BFC 0-0 Wigan Athletic, Saturday 19th November 2016

‘This cat does not give a s*** about your birthday’

A local celeb admires the local signage.

This match will not live long in the memory. The game kicked off, Winnall missed an easy header, the ref blew for full time.  True, I am missing the time Yiadom dribbled past someone.  Or McDonald heading a ball clear from the edge of his box.  Or that time Davies took a goal kick.  Honestly, it really was like watching paint dry.  I thought we’d got Keith Hill back, to be honest, all the sideways-sideways-backwards-hoof we had.  I said at half time we should have had another pint in the pub but what I didn’t foresee was more of the same, second half.  It was a pitiful afternoon’s ‘entertainment’.

What a shower.

True, Wigan came for the draw and showed zero enterprise.  Well, why not?  They were (are) second off bottom and have a new manager and they’d been panned last week 0-3 by Reading.  What I DID hope and expect was that we’d show more than we did.  The longer the match went on, the longer I watched Kent and Winnall do not very much, the more I realised Heckingbottom was as happy with the draw as they were; after all, it meant we cemented the cushion between ourselves and the relegation places.  But, really, this was a chance missed (about the only chance that was, ho ho).

Impeccably observed minute's silence.  Note Toby Tyke in foreground.

Oh yeah, we did have a chance to score. Yiadom whipped a ball in and Winnall missed when it was easier to bag.  Phew, that fifty quid of mine was starting to panic.  He did though find the net in 1^st half injury time, but he was flagged for offside. Oh well.  Get him off.  Why did we buy Bradshaw?  Scored loads for Walsall last season (a side who, lest we forget, finished higher in the table than us) and we never play him.  He must be on a small fortune.  And even if he isn’t scoring, at least he can hold a ball up.

Looking towards the away end.

Then there’s Kent, who couldn’t take on a player or cross a ball all day, then when he finally did (a great ball in from the left) he was dragged off. It was like Hecky had told him he could stay on until he’d done something.  75 minutes it took him. Still, it meant Hammill could come on.  So he did, and promptly ran straight into a couple of defenders and that was it from him.  Really, it comes to something when the closest you come to scoring is a blazer from teenage full back Bree, which deflected wide.

I'll get the hang of this cameraphone one day.

Wigan even had their keeper carried off, Bogdan replaced by Bolton legend Jussi Jasskelainen on the hour mark.  Isn’t he like 92 or something?  (Factcheck: he’s a mere strippling of 41).  I don’t remember him making a save.  Mind, I barely remember not-Bolton legend Bogdan making any decent saves either.  Did he save from Marley early on?  The worry was, that with 5 mins injury time announced and the Londontykes all making an early exit for their train, that the match might liven up.  I presume it didn’t.  6 hours on trains of various lateness today, for the worst match of the season.  About the only controversy of note was the ref’s inability to red card one of theirs for going straight through our player, rather like Scowen t’other week (minus the 2 attempted fouls on Scowen before he lunged in).  I doubt it would have made a difference though.  We had little ambition and they had none.

Oakwell under lights.

*** Scowen.  Cracking game, winning balls, driving forward, passing it to teammates.  Possibly had more to prove than anyone, coming in for Wigan Loanee Morsy.  Proved it.   
** Yiadom.  Made one mistake the entire match and that’s why everyone remembered it, cos he was outstanding otherwise.
* Roberts.  Not that he had much to do at centre half, but he did it.
Despatches:Davies can count himself unlucky cos he never put a foot wrong, but nor did he have owt to do.  Jackson again looked comfortable with McDonald, so much so that the pre-match chat was whether he’d be the one to partner Roberts when he returns.  (Or if Roberts would even get a game.)  Hourihane had a decent 1^st half before slipping further and further back.  Curled a free kick over just after the show of support for Cryne (the Ponty chanting his name, while folk held up the lights of their camera phones)  Armstrong again looked our best attacker, though all he had to show for it was dispossessing the right back before cutting inside and curling it over from 25 yards.  Might I add, Hecky has been moaning about the travel some of our players have had on international duty, yet he still picks Armstrong, who played for England under 20s in South Korea or somewhere.  Marley again looked our best winger, one run in particular looking promising, as he skinned the defender for SKILL.  Twitter MOTM, but the problem is, the better he looks in this position, the more he’ll be played in this position.  Bree had his moments, but a few mistakes too. 

Oh, and following the errant Burton bugler t’other week, we had perfection personified. I wish I could namecheck the band he came from (Worsborough Band, I'm told).  Tho since when did EVERY club have a ‘Remembrance Day fixture’?  I’m sure it used to be only Remembrance Day weekend.  We seem to have a minute’s silence/applause every week as it is.

'There's only one Patrick Cryne.'  Get well soon, Patrick.

Drink du jour: Erdinger and on the train, vodka and orange or JD and coke.  Rhys made a rare foray up with us (and probably regretted it) but at least he turned up; The Captain missed his bus from Hicksville (again) while Jonesy ‘had the trots’.  Lads – you missed nowt.  Tho’ once back in London we went to Lynne’s wedding party (?), thereby giving us a chance to drink even more alcohol. Luckily, I caught a bus back with Reedy, which meant I didn’t fall asleep.  Sarah thinks Andy should do this every week.

Away: 962. Since when did Wigan have such large away support?  A generally decent atmosphere, especially 2^nd half as we kicked towards the Ponty.

The Damage:
21.50 travel

The Tunes:
Until the Hunter - Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions
Mixmag Oct15 ‘Past and Present’ - Loco Dice

The Wiganers.

The Ponty Enders.

Burton Albion 0-0 BFC, Saturday 5th November 2016

‘Shut up you Kentish Town wan*er’ 

Welcome to ....

One advantage of promotion to the Championship; we are not being defeated today in the first round of the FA Cup by a side who prove inadequate for the Conference.  A year on and only 4 Reds’ players start from that Alty defeat – Scowen, Watkins, Winnall and Davies (yes, I looked that up).  The other 7 are currently playing for sides in divisions…actually, I can’t complete that sentence cos I’ve no idea where 3 of them are.  Non-league or Lidl, I suspect.

Burton.  A treat of an away day. Great pubs, friendly town, no bother.  So obviously our pub of choice is closed till 2 (‘sorry for any inconvenience’).  Rumour has it that it’s cos Brumingham City were in town last.  Seriously?  Have we been lumped in with those knobheads?  Does last season count for nought?  Oh well, good job we have at least 2 Londontykes working in the brewery trade (and numerous others with indepth knowledge thereof) and we’re off to the Burton Bridge Inn.  The -------    ------ can do without the £300+ our contingent spent today.  I am less than impressed, especially as we were trying to show a German girl a good time (Katrin).  The Bridge showered us with fine bitter, a fabulous breakfast butty (inc. black pudding) and pretty much a room of our own.  Ok, so the lager was a bit average, but as long as most peeps were happy, so was I.  But we simply HAVE to book out the skittles alley next time.  (Note to ------- ------, you’ll have lost yourselves £600 now, cos you’ve problies lost us for next year too, promotions and relegations notwithstanding).

So, we drink and drink and then catch taxis to the stadium, passing the landlord en route, wearing a beautiful hi-viz vest as he cycled.  Good on him.  And we even see kick off, despite birthday boy Hicks ordering cabs for 2:40pm.  (Did he tell you it was his birthday?)  We also hear the world’s worst bugler f*** up his big moment…folk having to try not to laugh during the Remembrance minute’s silence, as he murders The Last Post.  Bless.

The Main Stand

We see Armstrong break early doors, bursting clean through only to curl it wide.  Christ, he’d done the hard work.  Then Marley hammers in a shot from the right and we fail to nail the rebound.  Tis Armstrong again – Winnall having laid the original ball out wide.   Even Super Sammy can’t be in two places at once.  And that’s it.  Our attacking capabilities finished after a quarter of an hour.  (Marley heads a weak one into the keeper’s arms off a corner, 2^nd half).

Otherwise, it’s a one team show.  Ok, the 1^st half was fairly even, but the second half was diabolical from us, unable to string 3 passes together, or keep it in their half for longer than a few seconds.  Meantime, Davies was enjoying a one-man show keeping them out.  He used to be a dee dah but he’s alright now.  Managerial genius Heckingbottom (he used to be a dee dah but he’s alright now) contributes by going all gung-ho (sarcasm!), dragging off Armstrong for Scowen and going 4-5-1.  Davies makes some more brilliant saves before fans’ favourite Hammill is forced on to win the game for us after 5 mins of fans chanting his name.  It must be these East Stand morons who worship his stepovers (views courtesy of P. Waddington, Oxspring) but they had the look of Ponty Enders to me, the kind of folk who would vote Brexit and whine that the EU is trampling over Parliamentary democracy while bemoaning that the latest court ruling upholds Parliamentary democracy and ignores the will of the people.  (Our political debates have changed somewhat since the vocal Tories amongst t’Londontykes upped sticks and moved to foreign climes).
We aren’t just lucky we don’t lose.  We’re lucky it’s not 6.  Some fantastic saves, coupled with some unbelievable misses, contribute to us sneaking another point closer to staying up.  And Burton still haven’t scored against us in 4 matches (and Loko and I still haven’t seen a goal between these 2 sides, nil-nil away for a 2^nd season running).

The Pirelli, not yesterday (my phone isn't actually working at mo)

All we are left with is a pint on the way to the town centre, a rousing Reds’ chorus at the station (oddly, no police, despite their pre-match worries) and the vagaries of the journey home.  This week, we shall be mainly telling parents to ‘Control your kid’ (Andy), telling their kids to turn down the bleepy s*** on their computer game (Katrin) or sitting elsewhere to avoid the inevitable conflict (Selwood).  Me?  I sat there grinning at the row, still gobsmacked at arch-non racist Gandhi telling someone to ‘SPEAK ENGLISH….SLOWLY’. But I knew what he meant.  It took dad 3 goes before I understood what he was saying; it brought back less successful forays into my GCSE French oral.  Andy failed to hear the wife referring to him as a cnut (thank goodness), but he did hear the dig about him not knowing what it was like to be a parent.  All it needed was a panto ‘oh yes I do’ and my evening would have been complete.  Nothing vexes a parent like being told you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent.

Only 3 players come out of today with any cred; 5 if you include the centre halves.
*** Davies.  Top notch.  Ok, got lucky once or twice, inc. one which hit him in the face, but he deserved it (the clean sheet that is).
** Yiadom.  Fast becoming a favourite amongst the Londontykes.  Athletic, calm, good tackle (!). He’ll do for me.  Worryingly called up by Ghana.  So that’s another one AWOL for international duty.
* Hourihane.  A welcome return, tho’ spent most of the match doing a passable impression of Darren Sheridan, breaking down opposition moves on the edge of the box, or nipping in to nick the 2^nd ball on the edge of our box.  Delivered little attack-wise.

Londontykes Top 3: 1. Davies 2. Yiadom 3. Hourihane
Despatches:Armstrong looked the most likely up front, so we took him off.  Winnall never had a look in but raised a smile when he fell over in comedy fashion in the box.  Only one person shouted ‘PENALTY!’ but it’s difficult to persuade the ref when you’re laughing.  Watkins was right midfield again, but played alright, 1^st half.  Where he needed to be played was UP FRONT cos everything came straight back at us without anyone to hold a ball up.  Bree had a mare 1^st half, or was Lloyd Dyer just too good?  At least Bree stopped being skinned 2^nd half.  Or did Burton stop giving Dyer the ball?

One bleat about my day…those Burton toilets.  Now, I appreciate it’s a small ground (perfectly formed) but, really, is it enough to have space for 8 males to p*** in the gentlemens?  Really?  I don’t condone men p***ing in sinks, but what choice do folk have if they’re desperate? 
Fashionwatch: today, Loko will mainly be wearing a Chicago Cubs’ rounders t-shirt.  He’d ditched the lady’s coat and his mum’s shoes for a more casual approach.  Keep trying.
Will Winnall get 10?  ‘Just’ (Ozzy)
Onwards and upwards! 
Drink du jour: Seems I’ve never understood how to pronounce ‘Erdinger’ or ‘Lidl’ until I met Katrin, and I still don’t.  So inbetween average lager, I had Erdinger, and a bottle of red on the train.  But the MVP of alcohol today must surely be the individual little bottles of cherry wine that Selwood treated us to on the train.  ‘Mint’ (in Hicksy parlance).
Away: 1300 odd (ausverkauft).  Another good atmosphere, tho it says something when the player with the most chants is sat on the bench.  Altogether now…’ADAM HAMMILL IS A RED….’
The Damage:
23 ent
3 prog
14 train (a rare bargain!)


The Tunes:
Four Calendar Café (Cocteau Twins)
Music in Exile (Songhoy Blues)