So that's the first half of the play-off semi-final out of the way. I don't think a single Town fan would describe it as a great performance, but the important thing is that we're level going in to Wednesday's home leg. A 1-1 draw at Bournemouth isn't a bad result by any stretch.
After two 0-0 draws in the Championship, it was left to Town to score the first goal of this year's play-offs. It duly arrived courtesy of the head of Kevin Kilbane, who glanced home Gary Roberts' corner in the 22nd minute. In its way it was an undeserved goal. Bournemouth had made most of the early running, and it had been Town's first corner. But on the other hand, Bournemouth hadn't created a clear-cut opportunity as Town's defence shut them out, and Town had looked the more likely to create something that would lead to a goal.
Not that it stopped Town having a luck escape when Kilbane pushed a Bournemouth player in the back in the box. For me, it was a penalty, being a clear shove. But the referee didn't see it that way and Town escaped - until the ref decided to make a complete hash of another incident in the box, this time involving keeper Ian Bennett, and award a penalty.
There was definite contact, I'm not arguing about that. But what I have an issue with is the context in which it was given. The lad's got a shot away and Bennett's done what every keeper should do, and made himself big by rushing out. He's narrowed the angles and forced the forward's hand, and forward's fluffed his lines. Had the forward tried to take it past him and been brought down, that's a completely different story. As it happens, contact is incidental to the action, accidental in its nature, and doesn't represent any kind of impediment on the player in the context of the game. They had their chance and they blew it.
Not that it mattered. Bennett made a brilliant save (his third in three away games - all of which arose as a result of more than slightly dodgy penalties) and it stayed 1-0. Town should then have doubled the lead, with Kay missing a great chance at the back post from another set-piece.
Town probably shaded the first half, creating better chances and controlling the way Bournemouth played. And this continued for the first 15 minutes of the second half, in which Afobe missed a glorious chance to bury Bournemouth. One on one with the keeper, six yards out, he managed to lose his footing and blast right at the keeper.
But the rest of the second half saw Bournemouth dominate. They levelled on the hour mark through a brilliant effort from McDermott, and pushed Town all the way. But they didn't create any particularly clear-cut chances from open play, and were limited to long-range set-pieces. Ian Bennett was superb in goal for Town, relieving so much pressure. The midfield were naive and should have got a better hold of the game for large periods, but they weren't helped by a referee blowing up for every little contact on someone in a red shirt.
This was incredibly frustrating. Every decision went against Town in this period. At one point Scott Arfield went on a run to alleviate the pressure, and was brought down not once, but twice, both times clear free-kicks. Sportingly, Bournemouth knocked the ball out for him to receive treatment. On another attempt to break out Roberts was cut down by the no.15, who was already on a booking. Town free-kick, clear as day, but the ref managed to find some reason to give it to Bournemouth. On another day, the no.15 could have walked. Moments later Roberts was held back off the ball as he tried to get to a clearance, and when he was released he nudged the Bournemouth player. Fine, the second one's a free-kick, but what are you going to do about the first one, ref? Not notice is the answer.
But Town were naive. Too many silly free-kicks were given away, and for all I can complain about four or five incidents, there were another ten where players went in and conceded cheap free-kicks. The pressure was kept on by a side desperate to win and who will be disappointed not to have created more against a Town side who couldn't get the ball second half.
The back four and keeper were very solid, which was fortunate. The turning point probably came where Peltier went off and Afobe missed his chance. Hunt did OK, but his naivety defensively led to the goal. The two central defenders were excellent and didn't put a foot wrong, and for me Naysmith had his best game for a while. The midfield was good first half, but disappeared in the second. Roberts looked dangerous first half and had his moments second, but still doesn't look at the races for me, looking tired and short of confidence. Ward didn't get into the game, and neither did Afobe.
Obviously, the bonus from the game is that we didn't lose. Going back to the Galpharm level is not a bad position to be in, and being at the Galpharm means the second leg will be a different kettle of fish. It's now a 90-minute season, and Town need to play better than they did. But in front of a big crowd, Town should be able to flex muscles going forward and perform far better than they did today, especially in the second half.
Showing posts with label Huddersfield Town. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Huddersfield Town. Show all posts
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Sunday, 24 April 2011
Away at Milton Keynes
Let's be honest: it's been a little while since I wrote anything here. This is partly down to my dissertation. It's also partly down to the fact I've had nothing to write about of any interest.
So going to Milton Keynes on Friday to watch Town play in a crunch match against promotion rivals counts as interesting enough. This is not least down to the fact that in many ways it was one of the weirdest away days I've had in 17 years of watching Huddersfield Town.
First, there's Milton Keynes itself. Just how many roundabouts can they fit in a square mile? I've never been anywhere like it for roundabouts. Go a couple of hundred yards, roundabout. First exit. Another few hundred yards, roundabout. Second exit. Another couple of hundred yards, roundabout. Was it a deliberate attempt to get in the Guinness Book of Records or was it merely incidental?
Further on MK, it has this strange feel of a futuristic utopia. It's too green for a built-up area. It seems to be this collection of enclaves of civilisation connected by the many hundreds of roundabouts. I may be conditioned with a certain idea of what an English town is like, but it just felt weird. 'Pleasantville' was a word that popped into my thoughts.
We got to the ground with an hour to spare and managed to get in to the car park just outside the away end. The first thing that was noticed was that the ground wasn't finished yet. And when I say 'not finished' I mean 'where's the outside walls?'
Open plan much? Once we were in, it does have to be said the ground was very impressive. Odd as this seems, the open concourse in particular was very impressive. And when you go in it becomes apparent that the playing surface and lower tier are sunk into the ground. However, you can't escape that the upper tier seems to be some sort of homage to the famed concrete cows.
Eh? I'm all for having room for expansion, but that's taking the mick. Considering that MK currently (officially) get about 10,000 at home and on a good day that might go up to 12,000, the existing room for expansion is already enough. And I don't think anything like 10,000 turn up unless there's a good away following. That picture above was taken with about 5 minutes to go to kick-off, and it didn't get any fuller. Even allowing for 3,000 fans in the away end, there can't have been more than 9,000 there, and not the 11,800 they claimed.
Town started the game poorly and spent most of the first 20-odd minutes on the back foot. Although Dougie Thompson gave Gary Naysmith an 8 in his post-match ratings, I personally thought the Scotland international was our worst player on the day and that the winger gave him a torrid time. His error led to an MK chance inside the first 30 seconds and Bennett had to be sharp to save.
Gradually, Town came into it and scored with the first real attack mustered. Naysmith took a quick throw-in, Roberts ran at the defence and then squared it to Scott Arfield, who struck an absolute beauty from 22 yards. Cue pandemonium in the away end.
The pandemonium was stymied 4 minutes later when MK Dons won a penalty. The lad turned on the edge of the box and fell over. So the ref gave a penalty. Only the ref himself knows why. The lad just fell over. But the referee was poor all game - a couple of minutes before Town's goal he'd given MK a corner when McCombe clearly ducked out of the way of a dropping ball on the call of Ian Bennett and allowed the ball to go out - and so it wasn't too much of a surprise to see him make such an appalling decision.
Not that it mattered. Peter Leven stepped up for the MK Dons, but Ian Bennett went the right way and made a brilliant save.
Still the MK Dons came at the Town defence. Bennett made a sensational save from a deflected drive from outside the box by Balanta. What made it so remarkable was that he couldn't have seen it until it was right on top of him. Bodies had crowded the box, and it took a deflection perhaps six yards in front of him, while travelling at some speed. Quite how he made the save is beyond me.
Town successfully weathered the storm, and went 2-0 up with 10 minutes to go to half-time. The referee managed to make another cock-up by awarding Town a corner when it was clearly a Dons goal-kick. While the MK defence stood around arguing with the ref, they lost their focus. Roberts' corner found the head of an unmarked Lee Peltier who powered home his first League goal for the club on his 79th appearance.
Peltier was replaced at half-time, suffering from a knock sustained late in the first half. Danny Cadamarteri came on as his replacement, with Jack Hunt slotting in at right-back. Town were far better in the second half than they were in the first. Cadamarteri in particular took the game to MK Dons, who were pushed back far more than they had been in the first half.
After a rare MK Dons foray forward broke down, lone Town front man Benik Afobe was able to run at the Dons defence. Defender McKenzie dived in clumsily just inside the box and brought Afobe down. Penalty. Arfield had the chance to make the points safe, but fluffed his lines, proving himself to be more able from 22 yards than 12 - keeper Martin had little trouble saving the effort.
Inside moments, Town should have had another penalty. A half-cleared ball clearly struck an outstretched MK arm as the Dons desperately tried to clear their lines. The referee waved appeals away. However, the ref made up for it a little later, awarding a free-kick wide on the right for Roberts to deliver into the area. Roberts' delivery was a beauty. It had whip and pace and just the right trajectory. From the stand it looked to only take a deflection off an MK head into the top corner, but other reports have credited Danny Cadamarteri with getting a flick on the ball before the deflection. 3-0, points safe.
There was still time for the referee to make an even bigger fool of himself when booking Cadamarteri for getting hauled to the ground by Lewington just inside the area and for MK Dons to stage a late rally in which Doumbe headed home a consolation. But all in all, it was a professional display from Town at a very tough place to go. Before the second goal, MK Dons showed themselves to be a capable side who on a different day could have beaten us, had the breaks gone their way.
So going to Milton Keynes on Friday to watch Town play in a crunch match against promotion rivals counts as interesting enough. This is not least down to the fact that in many ways it was one of the weirdest away days I've had in 17 years of watching Huddersfield Town.
First, there's Milton Keynes itself. Just how many roundabouts can they fit in a square mile? I've never been anywhere like it for roundabouts. Go a couple of hundred yards, roundabout. First exit. Another few hundred yards, roundabout. Second exit. Another couple of hundred yards, roundabout. Was it a deliberate attempt to get in the Guinness Book of Records or was it merely incidental?
Further on MK, it has this strange feel of a futuristic utopia. It's too green for a built-up area. It seems to be this collection of enclaves of civilisation connected by the many hundreds of roundabouts. I may be conditioned with a certain idea of what an English town is like, but it just felt weird. 'Pleasantville' was a word that popped into my thoughts.
We got to the ground with an hour to spare and managed to get in to the car park just outside the away end. The first thing that was noticed was that the ground wasn't finished yet. And when I say 'not finished' I mean 'where's the outside walls?'
Open plan much? Once we were in, it does have to be said the ground was very impressive. Odd as this seems, the open concourse in particular was very impressive. And when you go in it becomes apparent that the playing surface and lower tier are sunk into the ground. However, you can't escape that the upper tier seems to be some sort of homage to the famed concrete cows.
Eh? I'm all for having room for expansion, but that's taking the mick. Considering that MK currently (officially) get about 10,000 at home and on a good day that might go up to 12,000, the existing room for expansion is already enough. And I don't think anything like 10,000 turn up unless there's a good away following. That picture above was taken with about 5 minutes to go to kick-off, and it didn't get any fuller. Even allowing for 3,000 fans in the away end, there can't have been more than 9,000 there, and not the 11,800 they claimed.
Town started the game poorly and spent most of the first 20-odd minutes on the back foot. Although Dougie Thompson gave Gary Naysmith an 8 in his post-match ratings, I personally thought the Scotland international was our worst player on the day and that the winger gave him a torrid time. His error led to an MK chance inside the first 30 seconds and Bennett had to be sharp to save.
Gradually, Town came into it and scored with the first real attack mustered. Naysmith took a quick throw-in, Roberts ran at the defence and then squared it to Scott Arfield, who struck an absolute beauty from 22 yards. Cue pandemonium in the away end.
The pandemonium was stymied 4 minutes later when MK Dons won a penalty. The lad turned on the edge of the box and fell over. So the ref gave a penalty. Only the ref himself knows why. The lad just fell over. But the referee was poor all game - a couple of minutes before Town's goal he'd given MK a corner when McCombe clearly ducked out of the way of a dropping ball on the call of Ian Bennett and allowed the ball to go out - and so it wasn't too much of a surprise to see him make such an appalling decision.
Not that it mattered. Peter Leven stepped up for the MK Dons, but Ian Bennett went the right way and made a brilliant save.
Still the MK Dons came at the Town defence. Bennett made a sensational save from a deflected drive from outside the box by Balanta. What made it so remarkable was that he couldn't have seen it until it was right on top of him. Bodies had crowded the box, and it took a deflection perhaps six yards in front of him, while travelling at some speed. Quite how he made the save is beyond me.
Town successfully weathered the storm, and went 2-0 up with 10 minutes to go to half-time. The referee managed to make another cock-up by awarding Town a corner when it was clearly a Dons goal-kick. While the MK defence stood around arguing with the ref, they lost their focus. Roberts' corner found the head of an unmarked Lee Peltier who powered home his first League goal for the club on his 79th appearance.
Peltier was replaced at half-time, suffering from a knock sustained late in the first half. Danny Cadamarteri came on as his replacement, with Jack Hunt slotting in at right-back. Town were far better in the second half than they were in the first. Cadamarteri in particular took the game to MK Dons, who were pushed back far more than they had been in the first half.
After a rare MK Dons foray forward broke down, lone Town front man Benik Afobe was able to run at the Dons defence. Defender McKenzie dived in clumsily just inside the box and brought Afobe down. Penalty. Arfield had the chance to make the points safe, but fluffed his lines, proving himself to be more able from 22 yards than 12 - keeper Martin had little trouble saving the effort.
Inside moments, Town should have had another penalty. A half-cleared ball clearly struck an outstretched MK arm as the Dons desperately tried to clear their lines. The referee waved appeals away. However, the ref made up for it a little later, awarding a free-kick wide on the right for Roberts to deliver into the area. Roberts' delivery was a beauty. It had whip and pace and just the right trajectory. From the stand it looked to only take a deflection off an MK head into the top corner, but other reports have credited Danny Cadamarteri with getting a flick on the ball before the deflection. 3-0, points safe.
There was still time for the referee to make an even bigger fool of himself when booking Cadamarteri for getting hauled to the ground by Lewington just inside the area and for MK Dons to stage a late rally in which Doumbe headed home a consolation. But all in all, it was a professional display from Town at a very tough place to go. Before the second goal, MK Dons showed themselves to be a capable side who on a different day could have beaten us, had the breaks gone their way.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Pride, passion and glory
Almost a week has passed since the midday showdown with Arsenal at the Emirates and I still haven't written a full account of the game. This may surprise a couple of people, but the almighty wrong created by this omission on my part is now being corrected.
The day started early and was long. Very long. A 4am start to get to the Galpharm and get on the coach with the HTSA at 5am was perhaps too early, especially on a Sunday. But I was there, yawning and wondering what on earth I was doing awake at that time on a weekend along with thousands of others travelling down by coach.
The early start was so the fleet of coaches could arrive at Finsbury Park by 10am. I'm not altogether sure why the coaches had to arrive with 2 hours to go to kick-off, but the point was that we had to. Our coach made it there by 9.50 and, after a walk of around half an hour - during which I saw what had become of Arsenal's old ground, Highbury - we were at the Emirates Stadium.
The Emirates is seriously impressive. People bandy around the phrase 'space age stadium' in relation to virtually all modern stadia - even when they're Riverside Stadium clones, soulless bowls with no distinguishing features save for the colour of the seats - but with regards to the Emirates they're bang on the money. From outside it dominates the surrounding area, being all steel and glass. It has the aura of a modern-day coliseum, especially with the way its external walls curve away, much like that of the Coliseum in Rome.
I'm one of the first into the ground and have a hasty (and expensive) lunch, before wandering into the arena itself.
Simply put: wow. Down in League One, with the exception of the Galpharm, you simply don't get 'wow' stadia. Instead, you get the likes of Rochdale's Spotland or Peterborough's London Road, which, with all due respect, just aren't grounds up to a higher standard of football. (And don't get me onto the roads around Spotland).
So thus far, all is good. The journey's been all right, the ground spectacular. What about the game?
For the first 20 minutes Town looked thoroughly over-awed. It wasn't quite the Arsenal first string, but the likes of Eboue, Gibbs, Diaby, Nasri, Arshavin, Bendtner and Chamakh were all playing, with Cesc Fabregas, Robin Van Persie, Theo Walcott et al on the bench. And for 20 minutes they dominated. Young Jack Hunt was making his full Town debut at right-back in a rejigged 4-5-1 system, and he struggled to get to grips with Russian international Arshavin.
Most Arsenal joy came down that right-hand side. Arshavin's miscued cross hit a post before he cut inside and struck a low effort from 10 yards that rattled the outside of the woodwork (although whether Ian Bennett was beaten or not is another matter). Arshavin then teed Nicklas Bendtner up for a horrible miss, torturing Hunt before dinking in a ball to the near post that Bendtner only needed to hit the target for. He missed from three yards, prompting jeers from the Town fans behind that goal.
Bendtner again made a horrible mess of a ball in from Nasri, managing an air shot when he again only needed to hit the target, but moments later he had Arsenal ahead in controversial fashion.
Town had pushed up and managed to clear the ball into Arsenal's half, relieving the pressure. The ball came back up to Chamakh, who appeared to control the ball with his arm before playing Bendtner in. Kevin Kilbane was caught out of position and skipper Peter Clarke could only put in a covering challenge that resulted in Bendtner's off-target shot deflecting off his upper body into the bottom corner of Bennett's net.
Being a classy individual, Bendtner decided to celebrate his goal by cupping his hand to his ear and running behind the goal, winding up the Town fans. How charming of him.
The goal seemed to act as a catalyst for Town to start playing. Where before the midfield had been standing off, admiring the Arsenal passing and movement, it suddenly started to get tight and be disciplined. And Town started to see more of the ball. After one Arsenal attack broke down, Jack Hunt was able to play Anthony Pilkington a delightful ball in behind the full-back. Pilks whipped the ball in beautifully right at the feet of Alan Lee, the lone striker, six yards out, who was only denied by a great challenge from Sebastien Squillaci. Not that the referee noticed: he signalled a dead ball when everyone in the ground could see it was a corner.
Kieran Gibbs went in the book soon after for kicking the ball away when Town were about to take a free kick. And seconds later should have been given his marching orders as he went through the back of Pilkington. It wasn't the only refereeing decision going in favour of Arsenal. In the very first minute of the game Lee Peltier - playing the holding role in midfield - had been tugged down, clear as day, by Diaby, but nothing had been given. Contrast that with the protection Arsenal's players got. Every time we got close to them, the ref blew up for an Arsenal free-kick.
Not that this stopped Town from getting a real foothold in the game. Joey Gudjonsson has been hit and miss since joining Town from Burnley, but this was a definite hit day. It was his wonderful ball into the box that Anthony Pilkington got on the end of to divert a header inches wide. And before too long he'd also cracked a 30-yard free-kick within an inch of the top corner.
Just before half-time, Town sensed blood. Jack Hunt robbed Arshavin of the ball in the right-back position and went on a storming run, beating Denilson and Koscielny before being
brutally body-checked by last man Squillaci 25 yards from goal. In a rare moment of getting the decision right, referee Clattenburg brandished red. Wenger argued after the game that it was harsh. I'm not sure how. By the letter of the law, it had to be red. Hunt was 25 yards out and storming through on goal. Squillaci took him down and paid the price, as he had to.
Arsenal managed to cling on to half-time despite Town dominating. At half-time, Wenger replaced Chamakh with Alex Song, who slotted in at centre back, switching to 4-4-1. I'm not sure whether it was the system or the fact they'd taken their eye off the ball or what it was, but Arsenal just didn't emerge in the second half.
Instead, Town came out and battered their more illustrious opponents. Alan Lee was outstanding up front with his hold-up play. Pilkington and Roberts made fools of their full-backs. Arsenal couldn't get the ball of midfielders Gudjonsson, Peltier and Tom Clarke.
Town piled on the pressure. Jamie McCombe, the big centre-half, was a threat on set-pieces, but chances were coming from open play. Joey Gudjonsson was denied by one particularly outstanding piece of defending from Andriy Arshavin. From the resulting corner, the ball was only half-cleared and Joey fired in a volley that whistled an inch past the post. Alan Lee then forced goalkeeper Manuel Almunia into an outstanding one-handed save at full stretch. The goal was coming.
And it came from Alan Lee. Anthony Pilkington pinged in a corner, and Lee attacked it to send a bullet header past the despairing Almunia. 5,188 away fans were sent into euphoria as Lee wheeled away to celebrate his first goal for the club at the twenty-sixth attempt.
Arsenal came back. Peter Clarke was at his best to block Bendtner. But despite more possession Arsenal simply couldn't break Town's stubborn rearguard down, despite the introduction of captain Cesc Fabregas.
That is until the 87th minute. Kevin Kilbane dilly-dallied in possession before playing Joey Gudjonsson a hospital pass. Joey's attempted clearance was charged down by Fabregas, who played the ball across the box... where Nicklas Bendtner fell over. Clattenburg pointed to the spot.
It was never a penalty. I thought at the time it looked soft and, having seen the replays, it as a definite dive by Bendtner. He ran into Jamie McCombe - who had an immaculate game - realised he wasn't reaching the ball, and then flung himself to the deck. Fabregas attempted to make the issue worse by throwing a temper tantrum when the ref didn't send Jamie McCombe off.
I hate to see players doing that. Fabregas is a wonderfully gifted player, yet he seems determined to blot his copybook by petty whinings and complaints at referees or to the media about the tactics of the opposition. Considering that McCombe is a player playing two divisions below he is, it's pretty low to try to get him sent off, especially after such a pathetic bit of cheating by Bendtner. But he still had the focus to send Ian Bennett the wrong way and make it 2-1 Arsenal.
It was particularly galling to lose like that. Had Fabregas picked up the ball, beaten two defenders and pinged a shot into the top corner from 30 yards you'd have just had to admire the quality that had beaten you. But we were beaten by cheating of the lowest order in football. We didn't deserve that.
Understandably, the coach back was subdued. After playing so well it didn't seem right to lose in such a way. But there was still a sense of pride in the performance and an optimism that if we play like that to the end of the season we'll be playing Championship football next campaign.
The day started early and was long. Very long. A 4am start to get to the Galpharm and get on the coach with the HTSA at 5am was perhaps too early, especially on a Sunday. But I was there, yawning and wondering what on earth I was doing awake at that time on a weekend along with thousands of others travelling down by coach.
The early start was so the fleet of coaches could arrive at Finsbury Park by 10am. I'm not altogether sure why the coaches had to arrive with 2 hours to go to kick-off, but the point was that we had to. Our coach made it there by 9.50 and, after a walk of around half an hour - during which I saw what had become of Arsenal's old ground, Highbury - we were at the Emirates Stadium.
The Emirates is seriously impressive. People bandy around the phrase 'space age stadium' in relation to virtually all modern stadia - even when they're Riverside Stadium clones, soulless bowls with no distinguishing features save for the colour of the seats - but with regards to the Emirates they're bang on the money. From outside it dominates the surrounding area, being all steel and glass. It has the aura of a modern-day coliseum, especially with the way its external walls curve away, much like that of the Coliseum in Rome.
I'm one of the first into the ground and have a hasty (and expensive) lunch, before wandering into the arena itself.
Simply put: wow. Down in League One, with the exception of the Galpharm, you simply don't get 'wow' stadia. Instead, you get the likes of Rochdale's Spotland or Peterborough's London Road, which, with all due respect, just aren't grounds up to a higher standard of football. (And don't get me onto the roads around Spotland).
So thus far, all is good. The journey's been all right, the ground spectacular. What about the game?
For the first 20 minutes Town looked thoroughly over-awed. It wasn't quite the Arsenal first string, but the likes of Eboue, Gibbs, Diaby, Nasri, Arshavin, Bendtner and Chamakh were all playing, with Cesc Fabregas, Robin Van Persie, Theo Walcott et al on the bench. And for 20 minutes they dominated. Young Jack Hunt was making his full Town debut at right-back in a rejigged 4-5-1 system, and he struggled to get to grips with Russian international Arshavin.
Most Arsenal joy came down that right-hand side. Arshavin's miscued cross hit a post before he cut inside and struck a low effort from 10 yards that rattled the outside of the woodwork (although whether Ian Bennett was beaten or not is another matter). Arshavin then teed Nicklas Bendtner up for a horrible miss, torturing Hunt before dinking in a ball to the near post that Bendtner only needed to hit the target for. He missed from three yards, prompting jeers from the Town fans behind that goal.
Bendtner again made a horrible mess of a ball in from Nasri, managing an air shot when he again only needed to hit the target, but moments later he had Arsenal ahead in controversial fashion.
Town had pushed up and managed to clear the ball into Arsenal's half, relieving the pressure. The ball came back up to Chamakh, who appeared to control the ball with his arm before playing Bendtner in. Kevin Kilbane was caught out of position and skipper Peter Clarke could only put in a covering challenge that resulted in Bendtner's off-target shot deflecting off his upper body into the bottom corner of Bennett's net.
Being a classy individual, Bendtner decided to celebrate his goal by cupping his hand to his ear and running behind the goal, winding up the Town fans. How charming of him.
The goal seemed to act as a catalyst for Town to start playing. Where before the midfield had been standing off, admiring the Arsenal passing and movement, it suddenly started to get tight and be disciplined. And Town started to see more of the ball. After one Arsenal attack broke down, Jack Hunt was able to play Anthony Pilkington a delightful ball in behind the full-back. Pilks whipped the ball in beautifully right at the feet of Alan Lee, the lone striker, six yards out, who was only denied by a great challenge from Sebastien Squillaci. Not that the referee noticed: he signalled a dead ball when everyone in the ground could see it was a corner.
Kieran Gibbs went in the book soon after for kicking the ball away when Town were about to take a free kick. And seconds later should have been given his marching orders as he went through the back of Pilkington. It wasn't the only refereeing decision going in favour of Arsenal. In the very first minute of the game Lee Peltier - playing the holding role in midfield - had been tugged down, clear as day, by Diaby, but nothing had been given. Contrast that with the protection Arsenal's players got. Every time we got close to them, the ref blew up for an Arsenal free-kick.
Not that this stopped Town from getting a real foothold in the game. Joey Gudjonsson has been hit and miss since joining Town from Burnley, but this was a definite hit day. It was his wonderful ball into the box that Anthony Pilkington got on the end of to divert a header inches wide. And before too long he'd also cracked a 30-yard free-kick within an inch of the top corner.
Just before half-time, Town sensed blood. Jack Hunt robbed Arshavin of the ball in the right-back position and went on a storming run, beating Denilson and Koscielny before being
brutally body-checked by last man Squillaci 25 yards from goal. In a rare moment of getting the decision right, referee Clattenburg brandished red. Wenger argued after the game that it was harsh. I'm not sure how. By the letter of the law, it had to be red. Hunt was 25 yards out and storming through on goal. Squillaci took him down and paid the price, as he had to.Arsenal managed to cling on to half-time despite Town dominating. At half-time, Wenger replaced Chamakh with Alex Song, who slotted in at centre back, switching to 4-4-1. I'm not sure whether it was the system or the fact they'd taken their eye off the ball or what it was, but Arsenal just didn't emerge in the second half.
Instead, Town came out and battered their more illustrious opponents. Alan Lee was outstanding up front with his hold-up play. Pilkington and Roberts made fools of their full-backs. Arsenal couldn't get the ball of midfielders Gudjonsson, Peltier and Tom Clarke.
Town piled on the pressure. Jamie McCombe, the big centre-half, was a threat on set-pieces, but chances were coming from open play. Joey Gudjonsson was denied by one particularly outstanding piece of defending from Andriy Arshavin. From the resulting corner, the ball was only half-cleared and Joey fired in a volley that whistled an inch past the post. Alan Lee then forced goalkeeper Manuel Almunia into an outstanding one-handed save at full stretch. The goal was coming.
And it came from Alan Lee. Anthony Pilkington pinged in a corner, and Lee attacked it to send a bullet header past the despairing Almunia. 5,188 away fans were sent into euphoria as Lee wheeled away to celebrate his first goal for the club at the twenty-sixth attempt.
Arsenal came back. Peter Clarke was at his best to block Bendtner. But despite more possession Arsenal simply couldn't break Town's stubborn rearguard down, despite the introduction of captain Cesc Fabregas.
That is until the 87th minute. Kevin Kilbane dilly-dallied in possession before playing Joey Gudjonsson a hospital pass. Joey's attempted clearance was charged down by Fabregas, who played the ball across the box... where Nicklas Bendtner fell over. Clattenburg pointed to the spot.
It was never a penalty. I thought at the time it looked soft and, having seen the replays, it as a definite dive by Bendtner. He ran into Jamie McCombe - who had an immaculate game - realised he wasn't reaching the ball, and then flung himself to the deck. Fabregas attempted to make the issue worse by throwing a temper tantrum when the ref didn't send Jamie McCombe off.
I hate to see players doing that. Fabregas is a wonderfully gifted player, yet he seems determined to blot his copybook by petty whinings and complaints at referees or to the media about the tactics of the opposition. Considering that McCombe is a player playing two divisions below he is, it's pretty low to try to get him sent off, especially after such a pathetic bit of cheating by Bendtner. But he still had the focus to send Ian Bennett the wrong way and make it 2-1 Arsenal.
It was particularly galling to lose like that. Had Fabregas picked up the ball, beaten two defenders and pinged a shot into the top corner from 30 yards you'd have just had to admire the quality that had beaten you. But we were beaten by cheating of the lowest order in football. We didn't deserve that.
Understandably, the coach back was subdued. After playing so well it didn't seem right to lose in such a way. But there was still a sense of pride in the performance and an optimism that if we play like that to the end of the season we'll be playing Championship football next campaign.
Monday, 31 January 2011
Eleven heroes in blue and white
I honestly wish I could say that the game ended as it should have done. To be beaten in such a horrible, horrible fashion was extremely gutting, leaving a hollow sensation in the stomach. But it was a wonderful day out.
Town went down 2-1 to Arsenal at the Emirates in front of 59,375. Alan Lee's goal was undoubtedly the high point of a fluent, attacking performance from Town. More to follow, when I've uploaded pictures.
Monday, 10 January 2011
Whatever Platini says...
I have nothing personal against Hull City. In fact, I'd go so far as to say most people have nothing against Hull City. Quite a few neutrals around the country will have cheered a little when they beat Arsenal at the Emirates a year or two back with that screamer from Geovanni. Part of this comes from the fact Hull don't really have any natural rivals. Scunthorpe and Grimsby are as big as Hull rivalries really get, and I can imagine that Hull fans are a bit miffed about that (especially when you consider even Torquay have cracking local derbies to get stuck into every now and then).
Anyway, I'm getting off my point already.
Hull have been in financial trouble for a while now, since Adam Pearson left them and Phil Duffen took over. Quite how they managed to get into financial trouble with 25,000 fans coming through the turnstiles every week and a further £30m incoming in TV money I really don't know. It isn't as if they spent masses of cash on players (unless it all went on Phil Brown's tan). Since their relegation back to the Football League, they've been taken over by Arabic businessmen who have, apparently, put the club back on a stable footing.
I don't know why people keep selling English clubs to foreign owners. Perhaps in the short term it reaps rewards (look at Notts County last season - from 19th in League Two in 2008/9 to champions in 2009/10, with a progressive side featuring the likes of Kasper Schmeichel), but in the longer term it's a recipe for disaster.
What emotions tie an Arabic businessman to an English football club? Precisely none. Some would suggest that this is an advantage; a business needs to be run in a certain way, and that way doesn't involve emotions ruling the roost. But unfortunately very few clubs will ever be run that way by a foreign businessman because the aim is simple: success at any cost.
Do Manchester City have a sustainable business model in their quest to win the Champions League? The answer is no. Spending £27m on Edin Dzeko this past week, plus goodness knows how many hundreds of thousands on weekly wages is just one example of the way foreign - and in particular Arabic - owners throw money at the problem in search of prestige. Foreign owners aren't interested in the team or the fans, per se, but instead are interested in their own bragging rights. Owning a successful club is a badge of honour, and that club being a sustainable business doesn't matter one jot.
Not all foreign owners are like this. Randy Lerner at Aston Villa has been a good chairman and owner. Villa haven't thrown money at players except in rare instances (wasting £8m on L**ds no-mark Fabian Delph springs to mind instantly), and have instead relied on talented youngsters. And some of these youngsters are superb. Marc Albrighton, Barry Bannan, Jonathan Hogg, Gabby Agbonlahor, Ciaran Clark and Eric Lichaj are all players with international futures ahead of them and, with the exception of Agbonlahor, all are players who have made their mark this season. The impression I get from Villa is of a side building for the future through steady, sensible progress rather than going for broke in a do-or-die scenario. In recent times, Roman Abramovich at Chelsea has become far more like this, although success is still the bottom line for him.
Going back to Hull, I fail to see how these new owners will benefit them one jot in the long term. Spending £40m on buying the stadium may endear them to the fans for the immediate future, but when they're bored and success hasn't materialised they'll leave the club to the vultures, with players on stupid wages and with a mounting debt. Sometimes this isn't the case, but because the emotional attachment isn't there why would they stay? It's not as if they were watching on from the terraces at Boothferry Park with a young Dean Windass playing for Hull, is it?
Oh, for the days of Jack Walker and Jack Hayward. Both Englishmen, both determined to see their clubs (Blackburn Rovers and Wolverhampton Wanderers respectively) advance, but never jeapordising the future of the clubs. Walker was accused of buying Blackburn the title, but if that's the worst you can say about him he did his job properly. His legacy was a club capable of sustaining itself at a high level, with the very sensible John Williams taking over. The same can be said for Hayward. Now compare Jack Walker's running of the football club with the new (foreign) owners, who are more interested in bringing in short-term prestige over long-term stability.
As a Huddersfield Town fan, I'm delighted Town aren't owned by a foreign owner with no real connections to the club. We're owned by a man with a nine-figure fortune, yes, but this is no oil tycoon from the United Arab Emirates. Dean Hoyle is a self-made millionaire, born in Heckmondwike, who has supported Town through thick and thin for 30 years. He went straight from the Kilner Bank not too far along from yours truly to the boardroom. His investment is heavy - but when we come out of this phase of investing the club will have been revolutionised and will, most importantly, be a sustainable business.
In many ways I'm an extremely lucky football fan. These days there seems to be a choice between a foreign owner with wads of cash but no emotional attachment who leaves the club in dire straits when he leaves or a succession of well-meaning but ultimately not-very-rich owners who try to keep the club on the straight and narrow. Having a fan with money and business sense in charge leaves me with the feeling that the club is in very safe hands.
Anyway, I'm getting off my point already.
Hull have been in financial trouble for a while now, since Adam Pearson left them and Phil Duffen took over. Quite how they managed to get into financial trouble with 25,000 fans coming through the turnstiles every week and a further £30m incoming in TV money I really don't know. It isn't as if they spent masses of cash on players (unless it all went on Phil Brown's tan). Since their relegation back to the Football League, they've been taken over by Arabic businessmen who have, apparently, put the club back on a stable footing.
I don't know why people keep selling English clubs to foreign owners. Perhaps in the short term it reaps rewards (look at Notts County last season - from 19th in League Two in 2008/9 to champions in 2009/10, with a progressive side featuring the likes of Kasper Schmeichel), but in the longer term it's a recipe for disaster.
What emotions tie an Arabic businessman to an English football club? Precisely none. Some would suggest that this is an advantage; a business needs to be run in a certain way, and that way doesn't involve emotions ruling the roost. But unfortunately very few clubs will ever be run that way by a foreign businessman because the aim is simple: success at any cost.
Do Manchester City have a sustainable business model in their quest to win the Champions League? The answer is no. Spending £27m on Edin Dzeko this past week, plus goodness knows how many hundreds of thousands on weekly wages is just one example of the way foreign - and in particular Arabic - owners throw money at the problem in search of prestige. Foreign owners aren't interested in the team or the fans, per se, but instead are interested in their own bragging rights. Owning a successful club is a badge of honour, and that club being a sustainable business doesn't matter one jot.
Not all foreign owners are like this. Randy Lerner at Aston Villa has been a good chairman and owner. Villa haven't thrown money at players except in rare instances (wasting £8m on L**ds no-mark Fabian Delph springs to mind instantly), and have instead relied on talented youngsters. And some of these youngsters are superb. Marc Albrighton, Barry Bannan, Jonathan Hogg, Gabby Agbonlahor, Ciaran Clark and Eric Lichaj are all players with international futures ahead of them and, with the exception of Agbonlahor, all are players who have made their mark this season. The impression I get from Villa is of a side building for the future through steady, sensible progress rather than going for broke in a do-or-die scenario. In recent times, Roman Abramovich at Chelsea has become far more like this, although success is still the bottom line for him.
Going back to Hull, I fail to see how these new owners will benefit them one jot in the long term. Spending £40m on buying the stadium may endear them to the fans for the immediate future, but when they're bored and success hasn't materialised they'll leave the club to the vultures, with players on stupid wages and with a mounting debt. Sometimes this isn't the case, but because the emotional attachment isn't there why would they stay? It's not as if they were watching on from the terraces at Boothferry Park with a young Dean Windass playing for Hull, is it?
Oh, for the days of Jack Walker and Jack Hayward. Both Englishmen, both determined to see their clubs (Blackburn Rovers and Wolverhampton Wanderers respectively) advance, but never jeapordising the future of the clubs. Walker was accused of buying Blackburn the title, but if that's the worst you can say about him he did his job properly. His legacy was a club capable of sustaining itself at a high level, with the very sensible John Williams taking over. The same can be said for Hayward. Now compare Jack Walker's running of the football club with the new (foreign) owners, who are more interested in bringing in short-term prestige over long-term stability.
As a Huddersfield Town fan, I'm delighted Town aren't owned by a foreign owner with no real connections to the club. We're owned by a man with a nine-figure fortune, yes, but this is no oil tycoon from the United Arab Emirates. Dean Hoyle is a self-made millionaire, born in Heckmondwike, who has supported Town through thick and thin for 30 years. He went straight from the Kilner Bank not too far along from yours truly to the boardroom. His investment is heavy - but when we come out of this phase of investing the club will have been revolutionised and will, most importantly, be a sustainable business.
In many ways I'm an extremely lucky football fan. These days there seems to be a choice between a foreign owner with wads of cash but no emotional attachment who leaves the club in dire straits when he leaves or a succession of well-meaning but ultimately not-very-rich owners who try to keep the club on the straight and narrow. Having a fan with money and business sense in charge leaves me with the feeling that the club is in very safe hands.
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Huddersfield Town: My Team
I don't care that this is the second blog of the day. What I do care about is that Huddersfield Town beat Sheffield Wednesday 2-0 and reignited my love of them to the point I'm seriously considering giving up entirely on women and just proposing to my club.
Do I care that Town are prone to doing daft things against poor teams? Does it matter that we never live up to expectations? Have I not learned from years of false dawns? The answer to all three questions is no. I don't care about any of those, because Huddersfield Town are my team, the club I love with all my heart, my first and greatest love.
Almost 17 years have passed since I first went though the turnstiles at Leeds Road. In that time I've seen promotions, relegations, administration, more dross than I could care to think about, moments to make me laugh, moments to make me cry, things I'll remember for the rest of my life for good or ill. I've seen the whole spectrum of football life, short of Premier League football in earnest. I've experienced victory the massive clubs home and away. I've also seen humiliations at sides so far below us even John Motson's never heart of them.
Yes, I do regret that I've never seen Town lift trophies and will probably never see us in European finals while romping to league titles. But does that affect my love of them one bit? No, it doesn't. Give me my club, a side with rich history and tradition but retaining its fundamental soul, over some franchise in all but name like Manchester United any day. Those at the very top don't get what fans of clubs like Town get. They don't get their unique club with its personality going through the full spectrum of emotion: pride, joy, relief, anger, frustration, misery, all accentuated by the fact that we know it might be years before our next success and the dark times might be just around the corner.
Winning all those soulless pots and pans for the trophy cabinet? Who cares? I don't. I'd rather spend my time with my club watching as we do something very silly at home to some side from the Conference North in the FA Cup a week before we go to top of the table Southampton and stick six past them, feeling my connection to them.
Tonight's win reminded me of the passion, the grit, the determination, the belief of the best Huddersfield Town sides I've seen and fallen in love with. The promotion side of 03/04 that never gave up. The other promotion team of 94/95 which battled to the last. The team under Jacko that escaped the drop in '98 through application of hard work and pure passion for the club.
That's why this is the club I love. Town 'til I die.
Do I care that Town are prone to doing daft things against poor teams? Does it matter that we never live up to expectations? Have I not learned from years of false dawns? The answer to all three questions is no. I don't care about any of those, because Huddersfield Town are my team, the club I love with all my heart, my first and greatest love.
Almost 17 years have passed since I first went though the turnstiles at Leeds Road. In that time I've seen promotions, relegations, administration, more dross than I could care to think about, moments to make me laugh, moments to make me cry, things I'll remember for the rest of my life for good or ill. I've seen the whole spectrum of football life, short of Premier League football in earnest. I've experienced victory the massive clubs home and away. I've also seen humiliations at sides so far below us even John Motson's never heart of them.
Yes, I do regret that I've never seen Town lift trophies and will probably never see us in European finals while romping to league titles. But does that affect my love of them one bit? No, it doesn't. Give me my club, a side with rich history and tradition but retaining its fundamental soul, over some franchise in all but name like Manchester United any day. Those at the very top don't get what fans of clubs like Town get. They don't get their unique club with its personality going through the full spectrum of emotion: pride, joy, relief, anger, frustration, misery, all accentuated by the fact that we know it might be years before our next success and the dark times might be just around the corner.
Winning all those soulless pots and pans for the trophy cabinet? Who cares? I don't. I'd rather spend my time with my club watching as we do something very silly at home to some side from the Conference North in the FA Cup a week before we go to top of the table Southampton and stick six past them, feeling my connection to them.
Tonight's win reminded me of the passion, the grit, the determination, the belief of the best Huddersfield Town sides I've seen and fallen in love with. The promotion side of 03/04 that never gave up. The other promotion team of 94/95 which battled to the last. The team under Jacko that escaped the drop in '98 through application of hard work and pure passion for the club.
That's why this is the club I love. Town 'til I die.
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
And in the 91st minute, they have a corner...
Something has come to bug me over the past few days. After seeing the high/lowlights of Town's 1-0 defeat down at Swindon, I rewatched the goal. It came from a Swindon corner put into the middle. Their lad outjumped Peter Clarke and powered his header down into the bottom corner. Danny Wilson will have been a happy manager with that goal.
Lee Clark, on the other hand, ought to have been very unhappy with his team's defending, not just because his captain was outjumped, but because one of the very basics of defending set-pieces was flouted to his side's cost: there was no man standing on the back post waiting to make a clearance if it came near him.
This is a problem at all levels of the game in varying forms. Bolton scored a goal on Sunday where Zat Knight flicked it on into the corner from a corner kick. Patrice Evra - the Manchester United left-back - had wandered two yards off the post he was meant to stick to like glue. The result was that he couldn't do his job properly. Lee Dixon picked up on this in his analysis of the game for Match of the Day 2, and I have to say I agree with every word he said.
When I was defending set-pieces as a kid, I generally got stuck on one post or another. In operating this system, our defence made the goals smaller by at least a yard on either post. They stuck me on a post because I was never going to outjump a centre-half attacking the ball in, but I could be of use in making the goals that bit smaller. Sometimes one would go over me because I wasn't tall enough to get to it, but that could be chalked down to just being one of those things as well as an outstanding finish.
So a man on either post makes the goals smaller. What other principles should teams observe when defending a corner kick? Well, I like to see teams leave at least one player forward. This makes sense from both attacking and defensive perspectives: it makes a break from the corner easier, especially if that lad breaking is a quick player, but it also means that the opposition will pull two players back to defend against the possibility of a counter-attack. Fewer attackers forward, a less congested penalty area, less chance of a striker giving their marker the slip in a crowd of bodies. Couple this with the men stood on the post, and you have a smaller goal, easier marking and a better chance of making a counter-attack.
I was very disappointed to read Lee Clark's comments about the Swindon goal this morning:
Lee Clark, on the other hand, ought to have been very unhappy with his team's defending, not just because his captain was outjumped, but because one of the very basics of defending set-pieces was flouted to his side's cost: there was no man standing on the back post waiting to make a clearance if it came near him.
This is a problem at all levels of the game in varying forms. Bolton scored a goal on Sunday where Zat Knight flicked it on into the corner from a corner kick. Patrice Evra - the Manchester United left-back - had wandered two yards off the post he was meant to stick to like glue. The result was that he couldn't do his job properly. Lee Dixon picked up on this in his analysis of the game for Match of the Day 2, and I have to say I agree with every word he said.
When I was defending set-pieces as a kid, I generally got stuck on one post or another. In operating this system, our defence made the goals smaller by at least a yard on either post. They stuck me on a post because I was never going to outjump a centre-half attacking the ball in, but I could be of use in making the goals that bit smaller. Sometimes one would go over me because I wasn't tall enough to get to it, but that could be chalked down to just being one of those things as well as an outstanding finish.
So a man on either post makes the goals smaller. What other principles should teams observe when defending a corner kick? Well, I like to see teams leave at least one player forward. This makes sense from both attacking and defensive perspectives: it makes a break from the corner easier, especially if that lad breaking is a quick player, but it also means that the opposition will pull two players back to defend against the possibility of a counter-attack. Fewer attackers forward, a less congested penalty area, less chance of a striker giving their marker the slip in a crowd of bodies. Couple this with the men stood on the post, and you have a smaller goal, easier marking and a better chance of making a counter-attack.
I was very disappointed to read Lee Clark's comments about the Swindon goal this morning:
"I felt that the defensive side of the game was very good on Saturday and we had to defend quite a lot as we didn't keep hold of the ball as well as we like, but unfortunately over the course of ninety minutes they will get an opportunity and their lad scored a terrific header - if any of my lads scored that goal, I would think it was tremendous. You have to hold your hands up sometimes and he beat one of our lads in the air before heading it in the only place he could to score"
Why can't he see the problem? The only reason he could score there was through a defence not taking proper responsibility. From a 91st minute corner, it's criminal.
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Theo Robinson
Dear Town fans,
What is it about Theo Robinson that means people instantly slag him off? Is it his lack of composure in front of goal (you know, that same lack of composure that saw him score 16 goals last season), the lack of a football brain (see previous comment) or the fact he isn't very good in the air?
Whatever it is, there's a great number of you who should be ashamed of yourselves. A player who scores 16 goals in 19 starts, is only 21 and will improve isn't a bad player. I accept he can be a bit of a headless chicken, but what has he really done to make him such a pariah? Is it the umpteen chances he missed against Wycombe? Or is it just that you need a scapegoat?
Many people seemed to blame Theo for the 5-1 defeat at Everton. Right, so the fact the defence conceded 5 and could have conceded more was Theo's fault? He lost possession for the first goal, fine, but the midfield should have closed players down quicker and not allowed the ball to be worked out wide. In fact, the goal we did score - a Lee Croft cross in to Gary Roberts, whose effort was blocked by the goalkeeper only for an under-pressure Johnny Heitinga to bundle over his own line - came about because Theo got in the box and put pressure on the defender, forcing him into the mistake. Good forward play, in other words.
Let's throw another consideration into the mix: playing with one up front. Theo is not a lone striker. He works best with a partner, and it's certainly a bad idea to lump the ball in to him for him to hold up because he can't do it, so why was the whole gameplan in the second half lump it up for Theo to hold up? Is it Theo's fault he isn't a big burly six-foot-three striker who can do the job? No. And why the criticism for him not closing down every defender and allowing them to bring it forward? The system we played - 4-5-1 - meant that if he did do it, there wasn't a second striker putting pressure on the other central defender so it was a straightforward pass for the centre-half to make, so his mate could saunter out of defence under no pressure instead.
A confident Theo is a goalscoring Theo, and we haven't seen that this season because he a) hasn't been given minutes and b) hasn't been confident. I hope we see him in a Town shirt again because he is unpredictable and because he hasn't been given a chance by the people who are supposed to get behind him. If he doesn't come back to Town after his loan spell at Millwall, I hope he has a great career scoring goals at clubs who appreciate him.
What is it about Theo Robinson that means people instantly slag him off? Is it his lack of composure in front of goal (you know, that same lack of composure that saw him score 16 goals last season), the lack of a football brain (see previous comment) or the fact he isn't very good in the air?
Whatever it is, there's a great number of you who should be ashamed of yourselves. A player who scores 16 goals in 19 starts, is only 21 and will improve isn't a bad player. I accept he can be a bit of a headless chicken, but what has he really done to make him such a pariah? Is it the umpteen chances he missed against Wycombe? Or is it just that you need a scapegoat?
Many people seemed to blame Theo for the 5-1 defeat at Everton. Right, so the fact the defence conceded 5 and could have conceded more was Theo's fault? He lost possession for the first goal, fine, but the midfield should have closed players down quicker and not allowed the ball to be worked out wide. In fact, the goal we did score - a Lee Croft cross in to Gary Roberts, whose effort was blocked by the goalkeeper only for an under-pressure Johnny Heitinga to bundle over his own line - came about because Theo got in the box and put pressure on the defender, forcing him into the mistake. Good forward play, in other words.
Let's throw another consideration into the mix: playing with one up front. Theo is not a lone striker. He works best with a partner, and it's certainly a bad idea to lump the ball in to him for him to hold up because he can't do it, so why was the whole gameplan in the second half lump it up for Theo to hold up? Is it Theo's fault he isn't a big burly six-foot-three striker who can do the job? No. And why the criticism for him not closing down every defender and allowing them to bring it forward? The system we played - 4-5-1 - meant that if he did do it, there wasn't a second striker putting pressure on the other central defender so it was a straightforward pass for the centre-half to make, so his mate could saunter out of defence under no pressure instead.
A confident Theo is a goalscoring Theo, and we haven't seen that this season because he a) hasn't been given minutes and b) hasn't been confident. I hope we see him in a Town shirt again because he is unpredictable and because he hasn't been given a chance by the people who are supposed to get behind him. If he doesn't come back to Town after his loan spell at Millwall, I hope he has a great career scoring goals at clubs who appreciate him.
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Insert Z-Cars theme here
Last football blog for a while, promise.
Town play in the second round of the League Cup tonight. After a 1-0 win at Carlisle a couple of weeks ago, thanks to Jordan Rhodes' 90th minute strike, we drew Premier League side Everton away. Initial feelings of 'great draw, we can win that' have drifted away over the past couple of weeks to being a feeling of 'we're going to get hammered'. Anything other than a 5-0 walloping will be celebrated like we won the World Cup. With Kevin Sharp in the team.
I'm looking forward to the trip over, if I'm honest. Goodison Park is a ground I haven't been to yet, and, by my reckoning, will be the 45th ground I'll have seen a match at. By all accounts, it's a proper old ground, creaking and full of character. It's no Saltergate, seeing as it hosts Premier League football week in week out, but it's probably the only ground around to have a church in one corner.
I like grounds with character, or at least with something different. St James' Park, Newcastle, is a brilliant ground for being something different, modern as it is. The Riverside Stadium, Middlesbrough, is on the opposite end of the scale, being an identikit stadium. You can change the colour of the seats and be in the Walkers, the Keepmoat, the Liberty Stadium, the Cardiff City Stadium... You get the point.
Our own ground, the Galpharm, is nothing like the above, thankfully. It's been imitated, but never bettered. The Galpharm can legitimately lay claim to be one of the most important grounds in football history, as it dragged ground architecture away from the post-Hillsborough depression and into the 21st century. At least, until whoever decided to build the Riverside made it a soulless bowl that everyone would copy. The arches on the roofs of the stands are iconic at the Mac (as I still call it), and the way the stands are shaped like segments of orange makes it instantly recognisable.
Going back a year or two (or 16 and a bit, seeing as that's when the last match was played there), Leeds Road was the first ground I ever took in a match. Town played Plymouth Argyle. We won 1-0, courtesy of a man I would see score a few times more: Andy Booth. The ground itself was, by that point, falling down. It had virtually none of the splendour that had seen it become one of the leading grounds in the country. It was still an awesome arena in its size; apart from a roof over the East Terrace, it was essentially still the same ground that 67,037 had crammed into in the early 30s to watch a Cup match between Town and Arsenal (Town suffered the usual big crowd nerves, and went down 1-0). But only 6,000 were in the ground on this day, making the terraces quiet. If I had one wish, it would be to see Leeds Road at its best, when 40,000 would regularly go through the turnstiles and when the East Terrace was somewhere the noise would be unreal (according to my dad, Simon Inglis, and the Old Grounds website). The first night of the Denis Law lights, v champions Wolves, would be a good one to pick.
Anyhow, moving back on to this evening's match. Everton are a good team. In fact, Everton are a very good team. They're the highest-ranked side in the competition at this point, and Town have our work cut out just to not get hammered. On the other hand, we have a strong spine and have enough in the tank to cause an upset. Gary Naysmith's return from a ban will balance the back four. Roberts will most likely return to the left wing. We can cause an upset if we believe it.
I'm setting off at 4.30 for the 8pm kick-off. With me will be food, an iPod, and Old Man's War. See, I linked it to writing (sort of).
Town play in the second round of the League Cup tonight. After a 1-0 win at Carlisle a couple of weeks ago, thanks to Jordan Rhodes' 90th minute strike, we drew Premier League side Everton away. Initial feelings of 'great draw, we can win that' have drifted away over the past couple of weeks to being a feeling of 'we're going to get hammered'. Anything other than a 5-0 walloping will be celebrated like we won the World Cup. With Kevin Sharp in the team.
I'm looking forward to the trip over, if I'm honest. Goodison Park is a ground I haven't been to yet, and, by my reckoning, will be the 45th ground I'll have seen a match at. By all accounts, it's a proper old ground, creaking and full of character. It's no Saltergate, seeing as it hosts Premier League football week in week out, but it's probably the only ground around to have a church in one corner.
I like grounds with character, or at least with something different. St James' Park, Newcastle, is a brilliant ground for being something different, modern as it is. The Riverside Stadium, Middlesbrough, is on the opposite end of the scale, being an identikit stadium. You can change the colour of the seats and be in the Walkers, the Keepmoat, the Liberty Stadium, the Cardiff City Stadium... You get the point.
Our own ground, the Galpharm, is nothing like the above, thankfully. It's been imitated, but never bettered. The Galpharm can legitimately lay claim to be one of the most important grounds in football history, as it dragged ground architecture away from the post-Hillsborough depression and into the 21st century. At least, until whoever decided to build the Riverside made it a soulless bowl that everyone would copy. The arches on the roofs of the stands are iconic at the Mac (as I still call it), and the way the stands are shaped like segments of orange makes it instantly recognisable.
Going back a year or two (or 16 and a bit, seeing as that's when the last match was played there), Leeds Road was the first ground I ever took in a match. Town played Plymouth Argyle. We won 1-0, courtesy of a man I would see score a few times more: Andy Booth. The ground itself was, by that point, falling down. It had virtually none of the splendour that had seen it become one of the leading grounds in the country. It was still an awesome arena in its size; apart from a roof over the East Terrace, it was essentially still the same ground that 67,037 had crammed into in the early 30s to watch a Cup match between Town and Arsenal (Town suffered the usual big crowd nerves, and went down 1-0). But only 6,000 were in the ground on this day, making the terraces quiet. If I had one wish, it would be to see Leeds Road at its best, when 40,000 would regularly go through the turnstiles and when the East Terrace was somewhere the noise would be unreal (according to my dad, Simon Inglis, and the Old Grounds website). The first night of the Denis Law lights, v champions Wolves, would be a good one to pick.
Anyhow, moving back on to this evening's match. Everton are a good team. In fact, Everton are a very good team. They're the highest-ranked side in the competition at this point, and Town have our work cut out just to not get hammered. On the other hand, we have a strong spine and have enough in the tank to cause an upset. Gary Naysmith's return from a ban will balance the back four. Roberts will most likely return to the left wing. We can cause an upset if we believe it.
I'm setting off at 4.30 for the 8pm kick-off. With me will be food, an iPod, and Old Man's War. See, I linked it to writing (sort of).
Saturday, 21 August 2010
Further to yesterday's blog...
We lost. We were 2-0 up, Smithies made a mistake and we ended up losing 4-2.
Oh well.
It does have to be said that Down At The Mac is practically in meltdown about it. Why is it so hard to get perspective into Town fans? Yes, we lost, but we did lose to a good team with three very talented players up front. We won't go up against a more talented front three all season. We still have some very good players even if they had an off-day. We are still only 3 games into the season, with 43 to play.
But no, according to DATM the manager has to go (even though the players were at fault for the goals), we need to be nastier, we have to sacrifice style, we have to bring in a target man, McCombe isn't good enough, we're exposed without Naysmith at left-back, Pilkington only gets in the team because he's a manager's favourite, Theo should have come on...
Watch us win in midweek against Premier League Everton and all the cracks be gone and for us to be marching to the title again.
Congrats to Peterborough, by the way. Sounds like the better team won over the course of 90 minutes.
Oh well.
It does have to be said that Down At The Mac is practically in meltdown about it. Why is it so hard to get perspective into Town fans? Yes, we lost, but we did lose to a good team with three very talented players up front. We won't go up against a more talented front three all season. We still have some very good players even if they had an off-day. We are still only 3 games into the season, with 43 to play.
But no, according to DATM the manager has to go (even though the players were at fault for the goals), we need to be nastier, we have to sacrifice style, we have to bring in a target man, McCombe isn't good enough, we're exposed without Naysmith at left-back, Pilkington only gets in the team because he's a manager's favourite, Theo should have come on...
Watch us win in midweek against Premier League Everton and all the cracks be gone and for us to be marching to the title again.
Congrats to Peterborough, by the way. Sounds like the better team won over the course of 90 minutes.
Friday, 20 August 2010
Oh when the Town...
A couple of years ago I went down the A1 to watch Huddersfield Town take on Peterborough. Town had suffered a shocking start to the season under Stan Ternent. We were battling at the bottom, despite a summer spending spree which had brought in 11 players and seen much of the previous season's deadwood shipped out. Posh, on the other hand, were going well with their talented side, and were on the fringes of the play-offs.
What unfolded that afternoon is something nightmares are made of. In almost 17 years of watching Town, I've yet to see a side with less passion, less fight, less ability. Peterborough were a decent side, granted, but Town were simply awful. Part of this is down to the team selection. We played 4-5-1, with Liam Dickinson as a lone striker, Jim Goodwin at right back, Andy Holdsworth on the right wing and Matt Glennon in goal. We were shapeless and disorganised, and we paid for it. We lost 4-0.
It's hard to think about days like that when you're a football fan. They inspire a dullness in the pit of your stomach. Saying it feels like a death is going too far, but certainly games like that have you on the edge of tears just thinking about the state of the team you love. Looking back, there are very few games where I've felt anything similar. Losing 4-1 at Oldham 6 months previous to the Peterborough game was one of those days. A few days later, manager Andy Ritchie had got the sack. Macclesfield away, another 4-0 gubbing, is another occasion, although Town reacted to this and went on a run of just 4 defeats in 26 matches, eventually winning promotion via the play-offs.
Peterborough away is one of the top 3 for awful afternoons watching Town. Misery was compounded in the dying seconds when Chris Lucketti was sent off for a professional foul, and manager Ternent came out at the end with his now-infamous Christmas dinner statement. A 0-0 draw on the Tuesday to Yeovil and a 3-2 win over basement side Crewe weren't enough to save the Turnip's job, and he goes down in Town folklore as probably the worst manager the club has ever had.
But my point is that since that day Town have progressed beyond recognition. Two weeks after Ternent left, caretaker manager Gerry Murphy guided Town to a magnificent 2-1 victory at local rivals Leeds, a result that set Town on the winning trail. Eventually, Lee Clark was appointed manager, and guided Town to 9th that season.
Several notable incomings and changes were made between Ternent's departure and the end of the campaign. Goalkeeper Matt Glennon was dropped in favour of hot prospect Alex Smithies - who hadn't even been on the bench under Ternent. Holdsworth reverted to right-back, Goodwin to central midfield. Michael Collins returned to the first team and hit 10 goals from midfield. Incoming was wingman Anthony Pilkington for £500,000 from Stockport. In my opinion, this boy is the best player in League One. He's two-footed, powerful, blessed with great vision and technique.
Last season, even more progress was made. Town finished 6th and lost in the play-offs. The squad was so different from the Ternent days that it's hardly believable that under 2 years were between the end of last season and Ternent's departure. Right-back Lee Peltier, central defender and captain Peter Clarke, strikers Jordan Rhodes and Lee Novak are just a handful of examples of where the club has progressed in its playing staff.
Tomorrow, Town go to Peterborough for the first time since that 4-0 thrashing. The side will have only one survivor: winger Gary Roberts. 1-11, Town are stronger, and Peterborough will be a real test for the new team. Luckily, even if we do get thrashed 4-0, we won't have the sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach reserved for hopeless situations. We've progressed to the point where we're unrecognisable from the perpetual underachievers of the last decade. This is a team ready to go back to the Championship.
Come on, Town!
Now, back to the writing.
What unfolded that afternoon is something nightmares are made of. In almost 17 years of watching Town, I've yet to see a side with less passion, less fight, less ability. Peterborough were a decent side, granted, but Town were simply awful. Part of this is down to the team selection. We played 4-5-1, with Liam Dickinson as a lone striker, Jim Goodwin at right back, Andy Holdsworth on the right wing and Matt Glennon in goal. We were shapeless and disorganised, and we paid for it. We lost 4-0.
It's hard to think about days like that when you're a football fan. They inspire a dullness in the pit of your stomach. Saying it feels like a death is going too far, but certainly games like that have you on the edge of tears just thinking about the state of the team you love. Looking back, there are very few games where I've felt anything similar. Losing 4-1 at Oldham 6 months previous to the Peterborough game was one of those days. A few days later, manager Andy Ritchie had got the sack. Macclesfield away, another 4-0 gubbing, is another occasion, although Town reacted to this and went on a run of just 4 defeats in 26 matches, eventually winning promotion via the play-offs.
Peterborough away is one of the top 3 for awful afternoons watching Town. Misery was compounded in the dying seconds when Chris Lucketti was sent off for a professional foul, and manager Ternent came out at the end with his now-infamous Christmas dinner statement. A 0-0 draw on the Tuesday to Yeovil and a 3-2 win over basement side Crewe weren't enough to save the Turnip's job, and he goes down in Town folklore as probably the worst manager the club has ever had.
But my point is that since that day Town have progressed beyond recognition. Two weeks after Ternent left, caretaker manager Gerry Murphy guided Town to a magnificent 2-1 victory at local rivals Leeds, a result that set Town on the winning trail. Eventually, Lee Clark was appointed manager, and guided Town to 9th that season.
Several notable incomings and changes were made between Ternent's departure and the end of the campaign. Goalkeeper Matt Glennon was dropped in favour of hot prospect Alex Smithies - who hadn't even been on the bench under Ternent. Holdsworth reverted to right-back, Goodwin to central midfield. Michael Collins returned to the first team and hit 10 goals from midfield. Incoming was wingman Anthony Pilkington for £500,000 from Stockport. In my opinion, this boy is the best player in League One. He's two-footed, powerful, blessed with great vision and technique.
Last season, even more progress was made. Town finished 6th and lost in the play-offs. The squad was so different from the Ternent days that it's hardly believable that under 2 years were between the end of last season and Ternent's departure. Right-back Lee Peltier, central defender and captain Peter Clarke, strikers Jordan Rhodes and Lee Novak are just a handful of examples of where the club has progressed in its playing staff.
Tomorrow, Town go to Peterborough for the first time since that 4-0 thrashing. The side will have only one survivor: winger Gary Roberts. 1-11, Town are stronger, and Peterborough will be a real test for the new team. Luckily, even if we do get thrashed 4-0, we won't have the sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach reserved for hopeless situations. We've progressed to the point where we're unrecognisable from the perpetual underachievers of the last decade. This is a team ready to go back to the Championship.
Come on, Town!
Now, back to the writing.
Monday, 16 August 2010
Previously on Battlestar Galactica...
It would be fair to say that it's a wee bit warm today. I've just been sat out in the garden reading the opening of The Bourne Identity and I've had to come in to cool down. Fortunately, we have a seat in the shade in the garden as well as a seat in the sun, so I'll be out there after I've finished writing this and done a bit more work on The Ambassador. However, as a Yorkshireman, I was designed to not get on with the sun, and my days would be better spent down a pit where it is at least cool. Ee by gum!
This weekend's been fun. Most notably for Town's miserable 0-0 draw with Tranmere, in which Gary Naysmith was sent off. First booking, on second viewing, is fair enough, but for the second he got the ball clear as day. Unfortunately the ref was of the usual League One standard and decided that, although two-footed lunges aren't worth a talking-to, perfectly timed challenges are bookable offences, so off went Naysmith. The ex-Hearts, Everton and Sheffield United left-back misses next Saturday's match at Peterborough - hopefully Celtic loanee Graham Carey will be able to step up as he deputises, although he has a tough task against George Boyd, who may have stupid hair but is just a bit good.
Yesterday was better. Despite having a knee that Ledley King would be ashamed of, I ended up playing football with Chris and realised that my old football needs replacing. Chris can hit a ball, and when I was in net the ball was moving wickedly thanks to two deep cuts in the plastic covering. More than once it dipped or swerved dramatically at the last minute, leaving me looking a grade A prat. In fairness, I saved a fair few of these (which is more than Scott Carson managed for West Brom at the weekend - Fabio, are you watching?).
I also got a reading list for Law and Literature next year. Anything that tells me to read Ursula Le Guin is always going to go down well, and it has me hoping that for once something literature-related in academia isn't going to be snobbish when it comes to SF. I could go off on one here about how academics seem to think literature can't be SF and SF can't be literature, but it really isn't worth the effort right now. All I will say is that The Road is SF whether they like it or not. It might also be worth pointing out it's actually pretty unoriginal SF into the bargain and not the wondrous thing they proclaim it to be, but that's just me being petty to a point.
Right, back outside it is. It's still sunny, and by fair northern skin might just go a delicate shade of lobster, but it's worth the risk. And then pub quizzage this evening. Huzzah! Wonder what insanely offensive name Chris'll come up with this week...
This weekend's been fun. Most notably for Town's miserable 0-0 draw with Tranmere, in which Gary Naysmith was sent off. First booking, on second viewing, is fair enough, but for the second he got the ball clear as day. Unfortunately the ref was of the usual League One standard and decided that, although two-footed lunges aren't worth a talking-to, perfectly timed challenges are bookable offences, so off went Naysmith. The ex-Hearts, Everton and Sheffield United left-back misses next Saturday's match at Peterborough - hopefully Celtic loanee Graham Carey will be able to step up as he deputises, although he has a tough task against George Boyd, who may have stupid hair but is just a bit good.
Yesterday was better. Despite having a knee that Ledley King would be ashamed of, I ended up playing football with Chris and realised that my old football needs replacing. Chris can hit a ball, and when I was in net the ball was moving wickedly thanks to two deep cuts in the plastic covering. More than once it dipped or swerved dramatically at the last minute, leaving me looking a grade A prat. In fairness, I saved a fair few of these (which is more than Scott Carson managed for West Brom at the weekend - Fabio, are you watching?).
I also got a reading list for Law and Literature next year. Anything that tells me to read Ursula Le Guin is always going to go down well, and it has me hoping that for once something literature-related in academia isn't going to be snobbish when it comes to SF. I could go off on one here about how academics seem to think literature can't be SF and SF can't be literature, but it really isn't worth the effort right now. All I will say is that The Road is SF whether they like it or not. It might also be worth pointing out it's actually pretty unoriginal SF into the bargain and not the wondrous thing they proclaim it to be, but that's just me being petty to a point.
Right, back outside it is. It's still sunny, and by fair northern skin might just go a delicate shade of lobster, but it's worth the risk. And then pub quizzage this evening. Huzzah! Wonder what insanely offensive name Chris'll come up with this week...
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