BFC 0-3 Aston Villa, Saturday 16th September 2017

‘If you lived in Brazil, you’d be dead by now’

Welcome to....

The more seasons change, the more things remain the same.  (Away) shirts in my size sold out?  Check.  Hand dryers in East Stand still p*** poor?  Check.  A gazillion new signings for me to make a snap judgement on?  Check. A Londontyke making ridiculous pre-match bets?  Check. (Slacki putting on a Palace/Reds double.  Neither came in.)  A dodgy pen given against us?  Check.  Welcome back!  After a summer of traipsing around Europe watching 23 matches of teams I couldn’t really give a s*** about, it was great to finally see the Super Reds.  And it wouldn’t be the same if we (I) didn’t start our season in imperiously losing form.  Christ, I wish I was still on holiday.

The Sky lorries come to t'well.

Course, it was destined to be.  We were playing the Villa, a side we’ve not beaten at home in a 130 years of trying.  130?  Yes, it’s that well known landmark anniversary wot everyone celebrates: 130 years since we were formed, or sumfing.  130?  My God.  We were promised a fleet of legends pre-match, and we got ‘em: Paul Cross and Colin Walker.  I just dreaded one of them being Brooce Dire (actually, later I was told he DID come out – with Sir Bobby, AKA ‘The God Squad’ but Salisbury must have been tipped off about an impending pitch invasion by Annoyed of Peckham, cos I missed it, as Salisbury came up to chat and drop off Wembley tickets.)

Former Reds' legends...and Paul Cross.

Oh, and while I’m at it, a 500 pence programme.  WTF?  I asked my dad if he ever thought he would live to see the day we’d be charging a fiver for a programme at Oakwell.  ‘No.’  130 pages we were promised too (see what they did there?) but was I the only one thinking that in a programme based on a multiple of 4 pages, this was impossible.  (OK, yes I was; I presume the programme must have been 128 pages or 132, unless it was stapled differently to norm.)  Still, I was amused to think that arch BFC programme collector P. Waddington, of Penistone, had turned down my offer of purchasing one for him, only for him to get to Oakwell and find them sold out.  (He nabbed one later for £7.68 on ebay.  Irritatingly, we actually had a spare ourselves as Phil got his beak involved and thus 2 were bought for a P. Ompey).  Oh well. 

The banner toured the ground pre-match.

Another annual event is also my missing out on the pub pre-match on my opening game.  As the years go by, I’ve noticed a trend: my dad always has his birthday on the last day of August, and as such, I feel duty-bound to treat him to a meal.  So it was that we found ourselves at Cannon Hall farm having dinner amongst dozens of little kids.  It seems Peppa Pig and George (whothef*** is ‘George’?) were visiting.  It was pram central.  The food was pretty s*** as well.  Though I had a wry smile that the toilets of ‘The White Bull’ (that’s the name of its ’restaurant’) were labelled ‘bulls’ (men) and ‘heifers’ (ladies).  I’ve seen a few heifers over the years in Barnsley, I thought.

The sides meet 'n' greet.

So, onto the match.  A traditional 5:30pm KO, to suit the global audience wot were surely tuning in.  Boy, I bet the X Factor’s viewing figures took a hammering tonite.  (If it wasn’t/isn’t on, forgive me, I haven’t seen Satdy evening telly in 20 years.  It’s still s***, right?)  So, yeah, there was this big team rocking into town to take on village misfits Aston Vanilla (what do you get if you cross a….oh, nevermind).  Hurrah!  We’d finally see a player of class and distinction – Conor Hourihane.  But, luckily, Villa haven’t yet found a way of utilising him efficiently, so he pretty much stood around in what I’d call the deep lying Jacob Mellis position, generally doing Sweet FA.  And after struggling to get out of our half for the first 10 mins, there was only one team in it: us.

Aston 'we always fill our end' Villa.

Barnes, Hamiill and McCarthy all whipped in great crosses.  One pullback resulted in an airshot (I’d love to blame Moncur, cos I think he’s s***, but truth is I’ve no idea who swung and missed).  A majestic chest control and volleyed cross by Hammill landed virtually under the bar.  Still not a Red in sight.  And did we really head wide from 4 yards off a corner?  Looked like one Barnsley player challenging another.  In the middle of all this, Bradshaw (our one centre forward) was strangely anonymous, never where the ball was landing.  Then the inevitable…Villa score from their only two visits into our half, both calamities of our own undoing.

The camera gantry on the old Main Stand.

McCarthy and Adomah chase down a Villa throughball; McCarthy is patently being stripped for pace, but fear not!  Davies comes hurtling out of his goal and for a split second appears favourite to gather – only he doesn’t and it somehow goes through him.  Adomah is left with a tap-in.  Whyohwhyohwhy do we have to work so hard for a snifter of an opportunity, while we just GIVE the opposition goals?  Then, a minute or two before half time, a ball over the top is stared at by one of our defenders, while Davis runs onto it for Villa.  Jackson makes a fabulous challenge, putting the ball out for a corner with his studs. The linesman starts flagging like mad.  He’s a bit excited for a corner, I reckon.  But no!  He’s given a penalty.  I guess he had to get spotted somehow, bless.  Adomah fires home, high into the net.  

Another dodgy pen against us despatched.

We are properly up against it now and Hecky goes all radical, bringing on not one, but two subs (I guess it would be harsh on Moncur to drag him off alone; it wasn’t ALL his fault).  Ugg-boots and Hedges on for Moncur and Barnes, we’re going 4-4-2 instead of Bradshaw on his own up front.  Result?  Well, to cut a boring story short, Villa score 9 mins in with  free header and coast to victory, with Uggy missing 2 glorious chances to score (but at least he moves to get into these positions; Bradshaw was virtually statuesque).

*** Hamill.  It’s difficult to put my finger on it, but he looked our biggest threat, till Uggy late on.  The chest and volleyed cross, 1^st half, was sublime.  Not his best game, but still the best we have. 

** Potts.  1^st half in particular, he won balls, was prepared to bring the ball forward and brought others into the game.

* McCarthy.  Defends well and gets up to help the attack.  Reminds me a little of Bree, ironically (considering we were playing Villa, though Bree was out).

Twitter MOTM: Williams

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Hamill 2. Williams 3. McCarthy

Sun setting over our chances.

Despatches:

What is it with Villa and Brum fans?  When they’re not dragging out ‘Villa…Villa…Villa….’ (‘F*** off, f*** off, f***’ retorted the Ponty and that was the end of that) or that End of the Road dirge (Brum), they only sing about each other.  Perhaps if they got behind their teams, their sides wouldn’t be so bad.  Though why Aston fans think I’ve only come to see the Villa, god knows.  Still, nice touch of them to get their cameraphones out along with the Reds support in homage to terminally-ill Reds owner Patrick Cryne.  Please BFC, don’t get relegated before he bites the big one.
Players?  I couldn’t quite see what the excitement was regarding Williams.  I thought the game passed him by, so Twitter MOTM, obvs.  Bradshaw looked lost on his own, and second fiddle to Uggy when he wasn’t.  Had the presence of Sam Winnall, without the goals.  Uggy looked lively – shame he’s not ours.  The centre halves looked alright (Jackson/Partick Thistle bloke) apart from going AWOL for #3.  Potts looked excellent too, certainly a presence at 6 foot odd, blond and centre mid.  Barnes had a couple of good runs, and more’s the point (compared to Ryan Kent) whipped a couple of good crosses in.  So he was subbed at half time.  Davies caught and saved perfectly, but continues to be capable of the crucial blunder.  A poor man’s Luke Steele.  And Thiam’s only input was to outrageously flick a ball to their player with his 1^st touch.  Learn to do the simple things, idiot, and the rest will follow.  Thereafter did a passable interpretation of Brendan O’Connell (without the skill).
Anyone for Wolverhampton next week?

Onwards and upwards!

Drink du jour: A couple of lagers pre-match, including some p*** poor Yorkshire watter (Saltire?) and Jack and coke on the homeward bound.  Well, at least the train journey is worth coming for.
Crowd: 14,643 (3,268 away - looked more)

The Damage:
£23.70 train
£5 prog
£2 zine
= £30.70

The Tunes:

Big Balloon (Dutch Uncles)
Biggest Bluest Hifi (Camera Obscura)

Villa H panorama

Little's changed since May in the town centre.