The Diary

14 December 2003: The Defence Rests, Your Honour!

Top of the league, having a laugh? Not on today?s showing, I bloody wasn?t. Sure, we?re still hanging on to that prized pole position, but only by the skin of our teeth, or two points, if you want to be pedantic about it. I have to say, on more then one occasion during that 90 minutes this afternoon, the teensiest thought did cross my mind that some of our finest might have reserved a small portion of their grey matter for what is due to come to The Shrine on Tuesday night, and not on the job in hand. Thank goodness Sheffield Utd only managed a home draw tonight, thereby maintaining an all-important four-point gap between us and third place.

See, I said it wouldn?t be easy; you lot should listen to your great Auntie Glynis, shouldn?t you? Dario Gradi is no fool, and neither are any team he puts together. They didn?t get to 11th in the heap for nothing, and watching them in action today, I can quite easily see how they managed to fluster and flummox Palace into defeat on their own heap the other evening. That ?three at the front? thing certainly had our lot running around like headless chickens for a while, and that keeper of theirs, despite having about as much grace and skill about him as a three-toed sloth on Mogadon, kept a-plucking ?em out of the air and a-gathering ?em up with all the aplomb of a newly-reinvented Gordon Banks. What with that, and everything else, those Crewe supporters in the Smethwick must have thought Santa had come early to the Cheshire town.

And what a strange atmosphere there was in the ground today. You could almost smell the tension before the game; not only that, the gate was considerably less (22,000 approx) than is considered normal for us these days, but no financial loss for the club as most would have been season-ticket holders anyway, and paid up front at the start of the season. Was this drop in numbers because of the close proximity of the festive season, I wonder; people?s partners insisting they joined them for that essential last-minute present-buying ?shop? in Brum, and sod the effin? football for once? Or could it be that the unexpected coda to our League Cup fortunes bled some family pockets well and truly dry, with little to spare for other footballing activities? Whatever the cause, it was most strange to amble into the Throstle Club this lunchtime and find the attendance well-down on what it normally is around half-twelve. Absolutely no problem either getting served at the bar, or finding a seat in the main room, for that matter; in fact, the place only began to look a little more crowded around the time we were due to pack up and leave, around half-one.

Once we?d left the building, a bit like Elvis if you like, if confirmation about the paucity of Baggies were needed, it was readily supplied by the appearance of Halfords Lane. Deserted. Nothing. Not a soul. Match? What bloody match? As I?d needed to ?powder my nose? before leaving, ?Im Indoors had gone ahead, but before joining him, there was one other call to make. Adrian Goldberg, one time fellow fanzine editor, who inexplicably turned his back on fame and fortune creating our mighty organ to join a fly-by-night organisation called the BBC. Look at him now ? reduced to begging for toys in Halfords Lane. I told him no good would come of it! Anyway, there he was, assisted by oodles of Santa?s little helpers, standing there by a Radio WM car slap-bang full of technical wizardry, plus a gurt-big mobile transmitter, and collecting toys donated by charitable Baggies by the score. As I approached, I espied the interesting-looking bulge in his coat pocket.

?Is that a microphone, or are you just pleased to see me?? I asked in the approved Mae West manner, and nodding towards the offending bulge.

At least Ade?s chubby little cheeks (or something!) lit up at the sight of my face. Seriously, though, I don?t see that much these days ? it?s all those political stuff he does - and it was good to hear he?s going to be a dad in the very near future. Blimey, I didn?t know he?d got it in him! Steve The Miser?s comment on Ade?s ?expectant? state was ?Everybody should go through it!? Not as far as I?m concerned, and being a bloody woman and having to put up with it all, you can sod that for a game of soldiers.

Pleasantries passed, I then joined ?Im Indoors in the task of flogging our latest issue. Nice to be selling in daylight for once; today?s game was about the only home one with a three o?clock kick-off for several weeks. All the rest were either midweek, or starting on Saturday evening, just to keep Rupert Murdoch and all his little sycophants happy. And, despite it being nearer two in the afternoon by then, there was still a distinct lack of humans, but a plethora of birds, twittering away in the trees by the primary school, and, because of the relative silence below, quite discernible. All that changed when I saw Tony Madigan, Cork Baggie, and the one who told me about the confused Dingle at the airport before the Palace game. I was delighted to hear Chris Adamson had been a guest at their branch meeting recently ? Chris plays for a club in the Irish League, as you will recall ? and was, by all accounts a splendid guest, although it might not be politic of me to relate what was actually said at the time!

Not long after that, I was also visited by Dick subber Gordon McConnell, who had a tale of woe to relate. Apparently, he and quite a few other were told by the club to collect their Arse tickets prior to today?s game; the trouble was, when they and other supporters went to the ticket office to lay claim to their spoils, they were told that the club had changed their mind about the arrangement, and they?d all have to come back another day! As you can well believe, there were many somewhat upset people in that office right then. That would have been that, except for the fact that the club, seeing annoyance and plain anger writ large on the faces of those thus denied, then decided to move the goalposts once more, by declaring they were going to hand out the tickets to their rightful owners, as previously agreed! Oh, whoops.

A few words of commiseration with a friend who?s currently doing jury service, a lot of words with minuscule mucker Dot Lepkowska, scourge of Education Secretaries everywhere, and it was time to enter the ?pleasure dome? once more. No sign of Alph, the sacred river, Xanadu, or that ?sunless sea? mentioned in Omar Khayam?s poetic blockbuster, just the smell of stale beer and fried onions as we walked with surprising ease through the turnstile and, in my case, straight to the ?ladies?! ?Im Indoors, for his part, visited the little boys? equivalent, only to have a fellow-supporter, spotting the enormous bag in which we keep fanzine stock, ask, ?Are you planning to stay the night, then??

Calls of nature sorted, it was then time to take our seats ? and, boy, was the lack of bodies apparent. Lots of gaps where there would normally be not a spare space anywhere, and the general apathy was reflected in the enthusiasm ? or, rather, the lack of it ? shown by the crowd as the two sets of teams took to the field preparatory to battling it out. For our part, we?d brought back Joost Volmer in from the cold in place of Gilly, and Greegs was also back following his suspension. The Railwaymen? Well, they were on winning lines after Palace, and newly-resurgent as well, nicely on track for mid-table or better, come the festive season.

And, once we?d started, kicking towards the Brummie for once, it did seem that we?d eventually overwhelm the visitors. At times, it seemed there was an endless queue of predatory striped shirts ready and patiently waiting in the box to apply the killer-blow. Time after time in those opening minutes we surged on their bastion, and with about 6 minutes on the clock, AJ should have put us in front; the Brummie groaned en-masse at the awful miss, but that was forgotten around a minute later when Hass managed to do what his colleague couldn?t. The goal came from a set-piece, the ball hit the post, rebounded and there was the destroyer of Man United to whack it in without further ado from about 5 yards out. One-nil to us, but it was a very subdued Hawthorns that acknowledged the strike.

And this is when it all starts to become rather strange, folks. Having gone ahead after what amounted to an almost incessant barrage on the Crewe goal in those opening minutes, you would have thought that we?d then take the opportunity to extend that lead, wouldn?t you? Trouble is, we are talking West Bromwich Albion, here ? and, as I said at the beginning, never, ever underestimate a Dario Gradi team. Sure, we could have killed Crewe off in no uncertain terms ? an O?Connor effort that hit a defender and went out for a corner was a prime example ? but come the 17th, come the equaliser from the visitors? Yahoo Serious look-alike (remember the film ?Young Einstein?? It?s all in that amazingly-scary blonde barnet, folks!), Steve Jones, who gratefully accepted the cross and nutted the ball home past Houlty. Totally against the run of play, and I strongly suspect the fact we?d let a little complacency creep in had a quite a lot to do with it.

Not to mention a distinct lack of discipline; a minute later, Rob Hulse, former Crewe man, of course, taken on by them at the age of nine, would you believe, ended up in the ref?s little black book for what seemed to be a somewhat robust two-footed tackle. He?d won the ball OK, but the man in black wasn?t happy with it at all, and Rob saw yellow as a result. And, around 7 minutes later, his colleague Mr. Hass also incurred the match official?s wrath, this time for a clumsy stop on a Crewe-ite. Not that the visitors were as white as the driven snow themselves; with a quarter of an hour of the half to go, one of theirs blatantly fouled Dobes as he neared the edge of the box. He looked mighty close to being the ?last man? to me, but the ref clearly saw different; again, yellow was the offender?s reward, and we made a pig?s ear of the resultant free-kick.

A minute further down the line, and I can only marvel at the fact Crewe didn?t take the lead again there and then; once more, the danger stemmed from a ?free? on the edge of the danger-area. God alone knows what prompted the ref to award it, as the reason why is still a complete mystery to me. The resultant shot buried itself in the Baggies ?wall? then pinged out to a Crewe lad, who fortunately nutted it wide of target. Again, on 26 minutes gone, the visitors spurned a golden chance; the ball crossed into the Baggies goalmouth, where Varney lurked ? and totally unmarked, as it happened. Just as well his header went right over the bar, then! Almost half-time, and, we hoped, time for a reassessment of our tactics ? but then, disaster struck. Mind you, Crewe had been threatening on and off since the equaliser, and we really should have heeded the warning signs. God knows there were enough of them. What happened? Good question. As I saw it, our defence failed to see the danger inherent in a Crewe cross, missed the thing completely, which gave Wright time and space enough to tap the bloody thing in from the near post, and right out of Houlty?s reach. Bugger.

Unfortunately, the second period didn?t begin that auspiciously for us. With only a couple of minutes gone, our rearguard was tested once more. Time to ring the changes, then, so on came Sakiri, for O?Connor, Greegs moving to midfield. With only 53 minutes on the clock, Dobes nearly restored parity once more; he did the difficult bit by rounding his marker through sheer pace, but had to run the ball wide of the target, so the shot, when it came, was easily dealt with by their keeper. At least Rob Hulse wasn?t giving up; he was like a live-wire today, and had he been more fortunate, he would have scored more than one today, but sadly, their keeper was also on form, as witnessed in the 57th minute, when Rob?s sheer persistence in the face of adversity won us the corner, but the set-piece was easily dealt with by resident-nuisance Ince.

Time for Plan B, then. Hughsie on, Dobie off, to an entirely-predictable chorus of boos from the visitors gathered in the Smethwick. And, what with Sakiri?s enterprise as well, this began to look far more promising for our prospects of coming home with the bacon. With 63 minutes gone, a cross-ball fell to Hulse, and he forced Ince to punch the ball out for yet another corner. God knows how he did it, because that ball looked absolutely goal-bound to me, and baggy no returns; not that long afterwards, the former Crewe-ite nearly did it again, from another corner, but again he was denied.

Time was creeping inexorably, on, and as it did so, it was looking more and more likely we would be on the receiving end of an embarrassing reverse. ?Sinking into our own morass!? was the way I described the situation to ?Im Indoors, as the visiting support regaled us once more with a lusty chorus of ?Taking the P***, having a larf!?. Nothing at all was going right for us ? then, enter Greegs, saviour of the Universe! From an innocuous-looking cross, it was ? not that I?m arguing, mind! ? and from that, the ball somehow plopped nicely to ?yer man? to volley it home, and in the 71st. minute as well. Phew! That strike saw a general relief of tension in the ground, and from then on, things perked up somewhat, but it didn?t stop me screaming, ?I?ll take the point, I?ll take the point!? at whoever cared to listen. Late doors, Hughsie could have wrapped a nice little Christmas present up for us; his little back-heel was well-executed, and deserved better, but that man Ince was there ? more by luck than judgment, I reckon! - to put a stop to all that nonsense by scooping the thing up into his loving arms! Similarly, just before the ref declared an end to hostilities, Greegs could have done it again, via a header, but the ball was lost in the general goalmouth scramble, and the next thing was ? yes, you?ve guessed it ? Ince had the thing in a vice-like grip once more.

Thoughts? By Christ, we?re really riding our luck at the moment. Of the top bunch, only Norwich managed to register a ?proper? win today, and even then, Huckerby goes back after today, so it remain to be seen whether they can sustain what they started without him. Additionally, West Ham managed to sort The Mackems, but that result doesn?t affect us that greatly ? at the moment. What it does do is leave us the meanest defence in the country, still, as both that pair managed to ?nullify? themselves with that result. Could it be that things have finally come round and we?re now getting all those hefty dollops of jam cruelly denied us when in the Prem last time round? All those awful refereeing decisions, denied blatant penalties, throw-ins not given, and so forth, put into cold storage by some controlling deity or another last May, then grudgingly doled out to us in dribs and drabs this season? At one point in the second half, I really believed there was no way back for us, and I felt that the likelihood was, overall, we?d concede even more. Who?d have thought Greegs would save the day, then?

On the balance of things, I thought Crewe were good for the point, and deserved more from that game than they actually got. Still, that?s the sort of luck that gets you promoted, but if we still wish to remain on target for that object of our desire, we?ll have to perform a lot better than that next time round. Defensively, we were a mess today, and went down to two sucker-punches. Theoretically, we should sort Coventry no bother, but in between times, there?s the small matter of that quarter-final tryst with The Gunners. Reaching the semis would be real whoop-di-doo stuff, but, as I?ve said before, I?d really hate to see us do a Sheffield United come the end of the season. Priorities, chaps, priorities?

And finally?? Whilst in the Throstle Club before the game, the big screen there had ITV on display, and more specifically, a trailer for the forthcoming Disney movie ?Brother Bear?. On the caption at the end, if you looked at the small print at the bottom, the legend ?Contains animated fight scenes and peril!? was clearly discernible to the viewer. Bearing that in mind, perhaps it might behove the club well to put out a similarly-phrased warning prior to our Bramall Lane meeting with Neil Warnock?s Sheffield United, on February 21st?

 - Glynis Wright

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