Bristol City 3-2 BFC, Saturday 22nd April 2017

‘WE WANT JOHNSON OUT, WE WANT JOHNSON OUT!!!’

Welcome to...the away end.

What a strange world. A year and a half ago, I nearly landed myself in a fight with other Reds fans for chanting ‘Johnson Out’ at a game.  Now, everyone’s at it, as I’m joined by the entire away end, notwithstanding the barrage of expletives casually drizzled on top.  Who knew that Reds fans’ favourite words began with ‘f’ ‘s’ or ‘c’?  Certainly the locals of Ashton Gate, who, bar scoring, were silent to a man.  

City Ultras?  Bless.

Shame then that we gave them something to cheer about, despite bossing the 1^st half. I hate it when the ball’s at the other end, cos seeing our goals are that much more difficult!  Either way I could see a shot take a deflection (Mowatt off Moncur) but, even sweeter, their mob were still whistling about a foul which might have been given against Marley.  Their bloke stayed down, we played on, we scored.  Like the stadium needed anymore vitriol added to the mix after Little Lee’s defection.  We’d even hit a post earlier (Kent?).  It was all too easy and they looked frightened to death.

Good job that new stand's got an upper tier.

The warning sign was there though.  It was emblazoned in large letters ‘ROBERTS’ as he himself got injured before HT.  F*** f*** f***ity f***.  We scrabbled to see who was on the bench.  (Where’s Jackson?)  We figure ‘Evans’ must be a defender.  Cos it’s either him or Ryan Williams to play centre half.  Christ.  Baton down the hatches, anyone?

Well, said baton didn’t last 10 minutes, as a cross was headed down and the loose ball fell to their only player, Abrahams.  (Actually, he’s not their player, he’s Chelsea’s, but he looked a class above anything else on the pitch.)  Their crowd wake up.  They camp in our half…which is the perfect opportunity for us to break upfield.  Armstrong (Armstrong!) races at their defence, lays it off to Moncur (Moncur!) who rifles it in from 20 yards.  I can’t believe what I am seeing. The away end goes potty.  Cue more obscene chants aimed at the Poisoned Dwarf.  This is fun.

Zoom in.  #33...Will Smith???

At 2-1, I felt a hell of a lot better than 1-0. We knew we could CONCEDE, but now we showed we could do something offensively.  A minute or 2 later, we’re breaking again, past the halfway line, and our player (Scowen?) is either tripped or pulled and goes down. He’s clear of their bloke, we’re 4 on 3, he’s comfortable in possession.  Not even a free kick, nevermind a yellow.  In a season of poor decisions, this is one of the worst I’ve seen yet. 

The view from behind the goal.

How long does our lead last? 5 minutes.  A hopeful ball is chipped up and Paterson does well, cutting inside and lifting it over the hapless Jones (another loanee who’s simply not good enough) before dinking it over Davies into an empty net.  Simples.  But don’t worry, we won’t have to wait long for the winner; a few mins more and Flint bangs in a header from a corner.  Who says we don’t miss Roberts?  A few City to our left (there were only a few City to our left!) return our earlier request:’Johnson, what’s the score?’   However, their hearts are more in celebrating their team winning than giving their chief midget any dues. 

Woo hoo!  We are a winner!

The game peters out, seemingly with them keeping the ball for ages down by their own corner flag.  Ho hum.  As Dave said ‘at least that means they’ll have to keep him for another season.’  Silver linings and all that.  Well done Bristol City; you’ve spent millions and avoided relegation.  Little Lee even has time to come on and shake his fists in celebration at the Reds fans.  I missed it, but I say good luck to him.  If we dish it out, he’s entitled to give it back, a la Winnall and THAT celebration.  Let’s not pretend like we’re precious or anything.  

Ashton Gate panorama

*** Roberts.  F*** it. 1-0 up, he gets injured.  We lose 3-1.
** Moncur.  ‘Scored’ two. Ish.  Cannot track back to save his life tho.
* Scowen.  Ran about.  I like a man who runs about.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Moncur 2= Roberts/Scowen

Despatches:
Kent had his moments.  Even looked dangerous once.  Armstrong never had a kick – till his role in the 2^nd goal.  A waste of a space.  Can’t we give Ryan Williams a run out in the #10 role?  At least he’s our player.  Lee came on.  He was funny.  Or s***.  One of the two.  (Do players get picked based on who their dad is?  Cos mine is Pele!)  Janko looked decent…till the fans chanted his name, whereupon he turned into someone else.  Davies had little to do (apart from the small matter of 3 conceded)  MacDonald was alright while Marley was physical without being overly involved.  Overall, I can’t question the commitment, but what a hole Roberts’ absence left.

Oh, and going back to the abuse, there's nothing like seeing a 7 year old start a 'Lee Johnson's a wan*er, he wears a wan*er's hat' chant.  'Does he even know what a wan*er is?' asks Dave.  Probably not, but he knows who is one.

Onwards and upwards! 

Happier days...the Super Reds come over pre-match.

Drink du jour: With Katrin in tow, we had a Selwood-inspired pub crawl down King Street.  A craft ale in a vegan pub (thankfully, my hot dog wasn’t…and it was the best one I’ve ever had…the sauce…the lashings of pulled pork over it…..hmmmmmm).  Oh yeah, then another beer emporium, possibly called ‘The Beer Emporium’ (Erdinger) and the Tobacco Factory after the match.  Sadly all nearly ruined by the choice of Fosters or Stella for the return journey. We need to source a decent offy if we’re gonna go there again!  

Away: 600 and odd rude, obnoxious, bitter ba5tards.  Fabulous!!!!!!

The Damage:
20 train.  Bargain.
25 ent.  Not a bargain.

The Tunes:
Careless Love (Madeleine Peyroux)
Mixmag Aug 11 (Above and Beyond)
Mixmag Dec 06 (Steve Angello)
Spirit of Eden (Talk Talk)

The future's bright

Is that roof a bit...odd?

Big teams and their big name sponsors

BFC 1-1 Brentford, Monday 17th April 2017

‘For a virgin, it’s a big ‘un’

Welcome to ....

This’ll be brief, cos I haven’t time to write much.  Another week, another failure to win a home game, another lead chucked away.  We can’t even beat (other) midtable mediocrity these days.  Marley put us ahead and I was lucky to see it – having nearly fallen asleep I went to the loo and came back in time to see him bury a close range effort.  No idea how it was set up.  Brentford equalise before the break.  If I could remember it, I’d tell you how.

The road to nowhere.

2^nd half, they coulda scored 3 in the first 5 mins….including a missed pen (Davies saving).  Did I read we’d given away more pens than anyone else in this division?  Very probably.  Looked a pen to me, as MacDonald mistimed a tackle.  Later, we had the chances to score 3 (Moncur having one saved and hitting the bar with another).  Marley and Bradshaw also missed one-on-ones.  A draw was problies fair, tho’ disappointing, considering a decent turnout, with match tickets a tenner.

Oakwell, from Grove Street Primary (R.I.P.)

*** Kent.  I know.  I can’t believe it either.  Looked lively, without scoring or setting up any goals. 
** Davies..  Quality finish totally out of keeping with this match.
* Moncur.  An improved performance. Perhaps there’s hope yet.  Twitter MOTM.  

Londontykes’ MOTM:  1. Moncur  2. Kent  3. Davies

Onwards and upwards! 

Drink du jour: PA (as opposed to ‘IPA’) and port on the journey back (needed to stay vaguely sober – work next day)  

Away: 664

The Damage:
30 train

The Tunes:
Black Holes and Revelations (Muse)
Protection (Massive Attack)
Aman Iman (Tinariwen)

'Come on you Reds' - the teams come out.

Super Reds v Brentford panorama

Injury in front of the old Main Stand.

A swarm of Bees.

Toby wins the mascot race.

The Ponty v Brentford.

A packed East Lower.

A nice day for it...

SSC Napoli 3-0 Udinese, Saturday 15th April 2017

SSC Napoli 3-0 Udinese (att. 38,764)

Welcome to .....

Easter, and what better thing to do than visit Naples? Pompeii, Herculaneum, Vesuvius….and the San Paulo, Maradona’s spiritual home in Italy, a stadium which once held 87,500 and must have been bouncing back in the day. What a place it must have been with Maradona and Careca pulling the strings nearly 30 years ago. As it is, the San Paulo now holds 60,000, despite the front few rows and back few rows being taken out of service.  (I suspect the former for advertising hoardings and the the latter through reasons of safety. Like many Italian stadia, it’s starting to show it’s age). And despite the athletics track, it’s probably a decent view for most, as the majority of seats are in the upper tier, unlike, say, the ‘London Stadium’ (I hate that name) which is all one tier. So obviously I sat downstairs…

The Napoli ultras.

Buying a match ticket was easy enough. The ticket office at Galleria Umberto I in the city centre sells tickets (take your passport!). €15 or €27? I looked at a stadium plan and thought, yeah, those cheap tickets look alright. I thought I was by the side of the pitch, but it turned out I was in the corner. Not a great view, but as there were several empty seats around, it meant I could have the pick. To my right, in the upper tier, was Napoli’s main ultra support (and they never stopped), but the rest of the stadium looked busy too, by Italian standards.

The ubiquitous perspex screens.

Being Easter, the game was on the Saturday, and, just for telly, it was a 8:30pm kick off. No problem - I caught a Line 2 train from Museo straight to Campi Flegrei and headed towards the beam of the floodlights. Little did I know, there would be no trains back; the service had stopped for the evening. I should have known…

Graffiti under the stands.  But why Vicenza?

Napoli, comfortable in 3rd, were facing midtable Udinese and the match itself showed all the hallmarks of this. Napoli cantered to victory with three second half goals and, even better, they were all at my end. So my penny-pinching ways hadn’t all gone to waste. A couple of minutes into the second half, a throughball was played through for Mertens to latch onto and finish superbly. Then a pass hit a defender, who, on failing to react, had the ball taken off him and hit home by Allan (I wondered why ther crowd were chanting my name!) before Callejon scored a late 3rd, hitting home a second rebound as Udinese were swamped. Job done, it was time to leave.

Fans salute the players on their lap of honour.

Outside the stadium, I perused the souvenir stands and couldn’t resist a Maradona t-shirt. It’s like they know they will never reach those heady heights again. Then a kebab and large beer, ready for my journey home. But no, the train station was shut and surrounded by police.  I  presumed they were preventing trouble, but no, the last train had gone. Bugger. Apparently, I could get a bus into town (it was a 7km walk) but after standing around for 20 minutes with a few hundred I thought ‘f*** it, I’ll walk’. There followed a one mile tunnel in jammed up traffic and by the time I reached the other end, only one bus had overtaken me. But having prepared myself for a dismal walk through the Naples suburbs, the tunnel brought me out near the promenade, so I could walk around the bay where there were still plenty of youth hanging out and couples having a romantic walk. So aside from the choking fumes in the tunnel, quite a pleasant traipse back (if that isn’t an oxymoron).

The Damage: 
€15 ent 
€10 t-shirt
= €25 (£21)

Sao Paulo panorama

The queue to get in.

The view from the corner.

The Main Stand (as much as there is one)

Scores on the doors.

The ghost of Diego lives on.

The neatest club shop display ever.

The clue is in the name.

The view from the far corner.

Anti-invasion tank trap.

Back of the bottom tier.

The cameramen line up.

Looking toward the ultras.

I'm not sure what this is trying to say.

Curva A.

Sao Paulo full time panorama.

The 'other' end at full time.

BFC 0-0 Cardiff City, Tuesday 4th April 2017

‘Dogs Welcome. Please tie all children to the post outside.’

Town centre improvements/destruction continue.

If I wanted to watch paint dry, I’d have stayed in London.  But, tiring of coating the walls of my flat, I had to make a beeline for Oakwell and the midtable clash between the Super Reds and the Bluebirds. With one win in 11, I’d hate to miss it when we do finally win a game. I shouldn’t have worried.  It really was like watching paint dry.  Cardiff came for the draw and we’ve proved all season we can’t break down these teams, even with 72% possession.  

Heading towards Oakwell.

Early doors sounded exciting – but I was outside.  Dragging one’s self away from the pub is proving harder and harder these days.  I also killed a few minutes climbing the stairs to go in the upper tier.  With my dad not coming, it was a chance to enjoy a room with a view.  And it was nice to watch the sun set over Barnsley.  I struggle to remember owt on the pitch, as we allegedly kicked towards the Ponty. 

The Ponty v Cardiff.

Second half, we went close early on, a give-and-go from Janko resulting in him being able to get a shot off from the angle (saved) and Hammill’s follow-up being blocked.  It was a false dawn.  Cardiff happily ceded possession, got men back, and showed zero ambition in coming forward.  (Why?) Marley had a shot saved from the right, and later missed the chance of the match.  The ball sat nice for him on the bounce, 12 yards out.  All he had to do was pull the trigger, but instead, he elected to cut inside, where he lost it (the ball that is; his confidence in his shooting looks lost already).

The old Main Stand.

So there it was.  The only other entertainment lay in the ref’s handling of Bamba, a lumbering wreck of a defender who had disaster written all over him. Already booked, he dragged Scowen back as we broke (the BBC website says Bradshaw…maybe it was…but then again the papers said that late shot against Washday was Armstrong, when it was Hamill).  Where was I?  Oh yeah, the ref played advantage, none accrued, so he gave the free kick and while everyone is waiting for the inevitable 2^nd yellow, Bamba rolls around on the floor.  The physio comes on…the crowd are now getting restless…a few ‘off off  off’ chants (about the only chants of the nite, I might add)…and the longer it takes, the more you KNOW the ref is gonna bottle it.  Unbelievable.  Does he not want a promotion to the Premier League?  We’d have half an hour against 10 men, surely enough time for Cardiff to nick one on the break?

A sparsely populated away end.

Reds fans afterwards were also on the back of their keeper, who’d ‘wasted time’ in feigning injury early on.  Could said Reds fans (Molly was one) please note, the keeper went off at half time, injured And given he’d ran into Marley, I’m not surprised.

*** Janko.  Go on then.  Twitter MOTM, and the bloke next to me named him before the announcement.  Defended well, got forward, looked keen.  Perhaps he’s one loanee we might keep next year?
** Jones.  Another curveball. The left back impressed tonite, in particular going forward and getting a couple of shots off.
* Davies.  Ok, nought to do bar smothering a throughball and catching a couple of crosses, but after Satdy, a faultless display.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Janko  2. Jones  3. James

The view from up back.

Despatches:
Bradshaw again looked like a decent player in need of a partner up front.  Marley was allowed that grace once he was pushed up with sub Armstrong who didn’t even flatter to deceive this week. My new favourite player Kent got 20 odd minutes with which to impress.  And he certainly did that, losing the ball on the halfway line for their best break.  Though my personal fave was when he cut inside and beat one player, two players…before the 3^rd took it off him.  As predictable as day following night. Mowatt was crap again while James played some nice balls, but none of which threatened.  Scowen was his usual hare ‘em scare ‘em and possibly a contender for Top 3.  

Later, at Chez Salisbury, we tried to remember who our only home victories have been against since August.  Dirty L**ds, Blackburn and ……..Norwich City.

Oh well – it was a night out.  Unbeaten in 4 home games!  (Without a home win in 7.)

Onwards and upwards! 

Drink du jour: A cheeky red win on the train up, Erdinger in the pub...and a Baileys on the rocks at Salisbury's later!

Away: 183, according to the PA.  Never in a million years.  120 max.  It’s like claiming the crowd was 10,800.  Oh.

The Damage:
36 train

The Tunes:
Vulnicura (Bjork)
Trans Europe Express (Kraftwerk)
Tongue ‘n’ Cheek (Dizzee Rascal)
The Digging Remedy (Plaid)
So Tonight That I Might See (Mazzy Star)
Reading, Writing and Arithmetic (The Sundays)
Forever Gold (Patsy Cline)

Panorama v Cardiff.

Sunset over t'well.

183 away fans.  Allegedly.  These 'big' teams, eh!?