The Diary

23 February 2004: The Blades On A Knife-Edge?

It?s Sunday, it?s time to put together my little piece once more, and that means a rapid update on what my trusty calculator?s now telling me. Following the Cardiff game, the magic figure stood at 1.8; not quite what we needed to keep on Premiership track, but not bad for all that. Today (32 played, 60 points amassed), my little mathematical exercise now gives me 1.875. A modest increase, especially when considered in terms of the bloody hard graft performed by our players over the course of the entire 90 minutes, not to mention those great gouts of laryngitis-inducing raw emotion expended by our brilliant following at Bramall Lane yesterday, but if we can see off Rotherham in fine style next Saturday, then we won?t be too far short of the magical ?two? threshold that?s absolutely crucial to the whole exercise.

As things stand, we now have 14 games remaining; the current points total I?ve already given you. Our ultimate target has to be 80 points or better; achieve that, and we?re pretty-much up. In practical terms, if we can manage to send nine or more sides running away with their tails between their well-whopped legs between now and May 9th, then we?ll do it. In fact, if the First Division continues in its currently crazy tendency to throw up totally-unpredictable results at the sharp end, if we can keep our heads when all around are losing theirs ? Sorry, Rudyard, but those words do sum up the situation perfectly - we might just get by with a point or two less than that on the slate come the end of the season.

To be truthful, before yesterday?s game, if you?d offered me the solitary point, no questions asked, I would have bitten your arm off for it, and so would my fellow Dick ?Eds, if push came to shove. Because I didn?t seriously consider it to be a ?goer?, I hadn?t even bothered factoring the possibility of us scooping the pot at Bramall Lane into my calculations, therefore being able to chuck an additional two points into the bubbling stew was a happy bonus. As a result of our win, we?re now only a measly three points away from doing a spot of crafty Canary-catching, while below us, the gap between us and third-placed Wigan has now widened to a stonking six points. Just behind The Latics are The Tractor Boys, happily ploughing their fourth place furrow, but a comforting ten-point deficit now stands between them and the possibility of disturbing our newly-acquired and highly-prized runners-up spot peace of mind. Just as well, really, as following that awful Preston defeat, I was becoming seriously concerned as to whether we?d have the necessary mental and physical stamina to endure the resultant angst and trauma of promotion, knock-out style.

As for the possibility of us having to return to Bramall Lane once more come the end of the season, even the merest hint that might happen made my flesh creep something horrible. You thought the atmosphere yesterday was electric? Should it all go pear-shaped, as per The Dingles two seasons ago, and we had to meet The Blades in a play-off game, if I were the director of a national utility company, I?d swiftly arrange for a heavy generator or two to be shifted to Sheffield; ninety minutes of that little lot, and you?d be able to meet the energy requirements of a large part of Yorkshire, no sweat. Which brings me nicely to another niggling worry I?m having at the moment; having seen at close hand how our un-neighbourly neighbours came apart at the seams in such spectacular fashion, I really would hate to see us emulate the feat some two years down the line. Paranoia? Probably, but it?s something shared, I suspect, with loads of my fellow-sufferers ? erm, sorry ? supporters! Despite flying, emotionally speaking, at around 35,000 feet after Tommy G?s goal went in, not once did I hear the dreaded, ?We are going up, say, we are going up!? chant burst forth from the lips of our faithful. Hailing from a region where an attitude of distrust and scepticism is inculcated from birth, almost, I wouldn?t have expected less from ?em.

As far as Mr. Warnock?s Sheffield charm school is concerned, there?s now the not-so-remote possibility that they might even dip out on football?s answer to the National Lottery. Thanks to yesterday?s bit of derring-do on our part, they currently stand in sixth spot, on equal points with West Ham. One point below them are Sunderland, with a game in hand, and Reading. There?s even a possibility Millwall might make a late run on the blind side; Mr. Dichio?s goals have done wonders for their cause ? and I?m not looking forward one little bit to playing them at their place, come early April. Returning to the recent woes of The Blades once more, they?ve now lost four on the bounce, and once you get into that kind of rut, it?s bloody hard to extricate yourselves from it in successful fashion. Will they figure in the final shake-up? The next few weeks should prove pretty interesting.

I must say I found The Independent?s take on yesterday?s events somewhat patronising. Take this bit of their opener, for example: ?Two years on from the battle, and with both sides again pushing for promotion, this wasn't even a scrap: it was just plain scrappy. Indeed, a first half characterised by misplaced passes and wayward shooting, in which neither side looked like Premiership material, had some of us wishing this game would end prematurely too.?

And that wasn?t the end of it. ?The goals all came after the break and even they were unsatisfactory.? The writer then went on to discuss what happened after the home side scored the opener: ?The Blades should have increased their lead before three substitutions by Megson disrupted their rhythm and allowed West Brom back in the game. Moore made amends for his own-goal when Jason Koumas picked him out with a corner-kick, though inevitably his header took a deflection on its way in. The winner was no less untidy. A free-kick led to the goalkeeper Paddy Kenny making a reflex save from substitute Sean Gregan, but after a short game of ping-pong in the penalty area?..Thomas Gaardsoe slid it in from close range.?

Talk about being damned by faint praise! What the writer tends to forget is that it?s quite common for so-called ?six-pointers? in this division to be pulsating blood and thunder affairs; in a scrap like that, of necessity, the pretty-pretty stuff has to take second billing. ?Battle Of Bramall Lane? or no, there would still have been a certain amount of ?niggle? about the whole thing; the unfortunate events of two seasons ago merely served to add a certain frisson to the proceedings. That apart, I didn?t see the game in quite the same depreciatory light as he. I thought it to be an excellent example of the English game as it used to be played, raw, gritty, bruising, even, but as a spectacle, a thoroughly enjoyable one, even if it did leave me as wrung out as a dishcloth come the end. They don?t normally do ?robust? or ?gritty? in the Prem, unfortunately; presumably, our journo friend was more used to spending his working hours in the more rarefied atmosphere provided at the higher level, and unable to make the necessary mental adjustment when reporting on our game.

If it?s Saturday, it must be Rotherham. Those are our next Hawthorns opponents, chaps and chapesses, the mere mention of which evokes once more strong memories of our penultimate home game two seasons ago. Remember what happened, folkies? We took the lead, they equalised, then we finally managed to get the ball over the goal-line ? only for the referee to disallow the goal because the ball was adjudged to have not crossed the line at all. Watching events from my relatively-distant Halfords Lane Stand perch, I wasn?t privy to what had happened; no wonder I then heard a very angry bellow indeed emanating from the vicinity of The Brummie! Quite a sickener, therefore, to watch Sky footage of the incident later, and marvel that despite the fact the bloody bladder finally fetched up nearer the back of the net than the goal-line, neither the referee nor his optically-challenged sidekick realised the full import of what had happened.

No doubt, when they finally returned home, the Rotherham contingent poured copious quantities of wine onto the earth as a libation to the gods; had our strike stood, they would very likely have been relegated to The Outer Darkness once more. Let?s hope that come next Saturday, the officiating trio have been following a diet consisting mainly of carrots; well, if it worked for Battle Of Britain pilots (as per the propaganda of the time), then it ought to prove pretty efficacious for their sometimes-blinkered eyesight! Oh, and another good wheeze might be for the club to ostentatiously place loads of cameras on and around that slender whitewashed boundary ?twixt success and failure. If nothing else, it would serve as a bloody strong hint to the man with the whistle to get it right this time.

And finally?? Saturday March 6th will be quite an emotional moment for the Astle family, so Laraine tells me. The emergence of both the Albion and Coventry teams from the tunnel will see grandchildren Matthew and Taylor following in their grandfather?s kingly footsteps; both are pencilled in to be team mascots for the day. Laraine tells me that Matthew, six come the day, very much shares the same outgoing personality as the late King, and even bears a physical resemblance to our revered Number Nine at a similar age.

Matthew recently got two hat-tricks for his junior side in the same game, then followed that up with another five the following week! He totally lives, dreams and talks football, still idolises Jeff, constantly watches televised matches, and bombards his poor parents with constant questions about whether his granddad scored against the sides on view, or celebrated his strikes in the same manner, even. As a birthday present, the family are giving his bedroom a bit of a makeover ? every single item in that room will be Albion-related. Laraine?s even giving the boy a few of Jeff?s trophies to treasure there. Even before he gets up, it?s an odds-on cert you?ll hear the ?thump, thump? of a football going against his bedroom wall, therefore sanctions for naughty behaviour are easy ? just threaten to take his ball away!

Another nice touch; when he?s mascot with his sister, he?s promised faithfully to put one into the Brummie Road goal, then celebrate in true Astle style ? arms raised aloft. According to Laraine, already, there?s only one career for him ? and that?s following in his granddad?s footsteps, with Albion, of course.

It?s a lovely thought that come the time when I?m of pensionable age, there might be yet another Astle wearing the sacred navy blue and white stripes. Judging from what Laraine said to me earlier this evening, he certainly seems to have the necessary determination to make a career of the game, and judging from the frequency of those strikes, quite a bit of natural talent as well. Let?s hope that when he emerges from that tunnel in a few weeks time, the lad gets a Hawthorns reception he?ll never forget ? and gives him sufficient impetus to make him want to do it all for real next time.

 - Glynis Wright

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