Reality Check: Gillingham at Home.

The question to ponder here is what exactly do referees say to players who have committed offences; especially the brutal and heinous ones? These are professional footballers remember? Football is their livelihood and their lives. They train, train, play and train: set pieces, tackling, heading, off-sides … the whole nine yards.

So … does the referee need to remind them that, barging somebody over, thuggishly from behind is against the rules? Does the referee need to remind said offender (for which read cheat or bully) that this behaviour is not allowed, will not be tolerated?

Or should the referee simply blow the whistle and dig out the red card?

We played Gillingham on Sunday evening (yes I know it’s weird, but we’ll get to that okay?) and Gillingham were out to intimidate, scare and rattle the Walsall team. At one point James Chambers was literally bounced over the goal line and onto the pitch side wall by a blatantly unfair push in the back when shielding the ball from a Gillingham player. The ref spent an inordinate amount of time “talking” to the man responsible and instead of, justifiably sending him off pulled the yellow card.

What?

A Chelsea player, stamping on the foot of an opponent got sent off this week because his actions were deliberate and could have seriously damaged a fellow player. This was exactly the same: Chambers could have been literally taken out of the game for a number of games after the crash into the wall: a sold object. Deliberate! Intentional!

Now I do blame the player to some extent. He did it after all. But a greater responsibility lies with the officials. Make an example of these thuggish tactics and they will not continue.

This ref made enemies of both sets of fans during the game with mind-boggling displays of ineptitude all over the pitch, favouring neither one side nor the other. I do not think I have ranted too mush about refereeing decisions in this blog, so trust me: this ref was a clown.

Gillingham sacked Peter Taylor their manager some weeks ago and are currently operating some kind of management by committee structure. We joked about each of the four choosing a different line a la Football Manager computer game (“You get to choose the goalkeeper this week, I’ll choose the defenders”). They were beaten in the other Area Final of the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy by Bristol City and were, understandably out to get some respect back. Gillingham is a fair journey on a fair day, but with a six p.m. kick off on a Sunday evening ? Their few travelling supporters have my deepest respect.

This was a rearranged fixture, arranged for Sunday by negotiation. We cannot play our Sunday games earlier, because the Bescot Sunday Market takes precedence: so I set out, picked up my brother and parked up, feeling rather surreal.

“It’s not cold,” my brother cheerfully remarked. It got cold during the game and was well towards freezing as we trudged back to the car.

Cully is still tremendously excited about getting to Wembley and we spent most of the first half going over getting-to-Wembley options. The tickets go on sale to season ticket holders on Friday. A lot of the game went by, all but un noticed. I wondered if our players might be a little awe-struck; concentrating on staying fit and uninjured so as to be available for the Wembley game. And, while I was wondering I was hoping not. We still have a chance of play off places and promotion and that won’t happen if players won’t go in where it’ll hurt.

The players might have been tired and emotionally drained but there was no chickening out of challenges and we were largely in control of the game, but – as has happened so many times this season we were in little danger of actually scoring: on top, a lot of shots, but nothing to show for it.

James Chambers, nursing that injury no doubt didn’t come out for the second half; replaced by O’Connor.

Tom Bradshaw had some very neat, edge of the penalty area footwork and a tidy shot, but immediately looked uncomfortable, quickly replaced by Ashley Grimes – who hasn’t scored for a couple of years. And, with the defence expecting an off-side flag Gillingham broke away and they are one nil up. Deep joy for the travelling supporters, probably imagining a happy journey home at that point.

But we went on the Bradshaw-less rampage. Cook playing well, Sawyers missing a shot, Forde showing good control (amazing how little space players like Cook need down the touchline to get by defenders) and, finally thanks to a scrappy challenge from O’Connor  who else but Ashley Grimes stuck the ball into the net! Easy to see how relieved he was. But Bradshaw’s injury looked serious , so – with Manset leaving us to go the Cheltenham Town – Grimes might be our main man for a few weeks.  Please note, however we did pounce (if that is the correct verb) to secure a month long loan of rising Manchester City teenage star, Jordy Hiwula apparently a striker too.

Final score one all, not a great deal of help in our crawl towards promotion, but being a Walsall supporter is never easy. If it was, surely we’d get more supporters at home games.

The Shirt and The Iron (Scunthorpe Away)

Last Wednesday of the month: poetry group at Great Wyrley Library. Last month we chose “sport” as the topic for this meeting. Do you know how difficult it is to find a reasonable poem about sport? (Seriously folks any suggestions welcome in the response box below. Would love to you’re your ideas.)

Someone else came up with “the Shirt” by Carole Ann Duffy  (current English poet laureate). I have heard this independent lady reading her poetry and, while it was being shared in the rather small confines of our library I could imagine bot her voice and face as she read it out. Bit of a cliché, but went to this Walsall supporter’s heart right away; the themes of high salary and some self-pitying celebrity player trying to make excuses for poor performances. The “anybody but me” syndrome” again.

We are playing Scunthorpe United today. Away. I’m going. Bright sunshine, high skies after some rainclouds earlier.

Cully’s driving. Navigating part-by-sat-nav part by experience. The sat nav (Tom-Tom I believe) sits in pride of place in the centre of the dashboard. The arrow stays still, the graphics move underneath it. “A bit like flying, instead of driving; don’t like it, “ he says.

Satisfyingly the machine gets it wrong from the off and I take out an unnecessary dog leg, smiling smugly (well inside anyway).

The journey is comfortable, enjoyable and full of conversation on initially  familiar roads and then motorways (with some almost inevitable summer roadworks limiting us to 50 m.p.h..

We see the high single legged floodlight pylons of Glanford Park while we are still on the approach. The ground is now at the back of an out-of-town shopping park with all the usual suspects including a McDonalds, a Ben and Jerry’s (playing music from the 1950s) and a franchise gastro-pub. It’s friendly in there. We order a meal and drinks, sit and continue the conversations. Then well fed, stroll to the ground.

Going through the turnstiles we are not given a ticket which I find interesting. It takes out the costs of printing and is eminently sensible in that respect of course … but is it legal?

 

The ground feels homely. It’s compact, built to the same spec all round and looks as if it was built to a plan that was stuck-to. No out-of-character additions. There’s a purpose built gallery in the roof of the left hand stand for cameras and media, there are flags flying from poles at the opposite end of the ground. That stand (we are behind a goal line) is standing-only. That’s also interesting, given the discussions going on to return parts of grounds to standing areas again (they were changed to all seater stadia by law following recommendations in the Taylor report after the Hillsborough disaster) .

We look dazed from the kick-off. The Iron playing fast, zippy football, passes accurate, either in front of the runner or into space which is soon taken up by an attacking player. We are not able to keep up, it seems. Our new look team. Without Kinsella who has been impressive, but fair enough, may need a break; without Grimes and Sawyers and James Chambers back into the middle of defence. Forde is on and Manset gets a debut. (seems he was playing the “long game” after his trial game against Leicester, going to some Turkish club and after a better deal (no blame attached there: football is a cruel kind of life and players need to make money as and when …). No deal was offered, so he came back to Walsall. James Chambers lasts all of ten minutes and Dean Holden comes on to replace him. It doesn’t get better. Scunthorpe (why are they nicknamed The Iron?) are like a tide washing towards our goal, wave after wave. Fortunately they don’t look like scoring. They too are on a winless run and may just be a little over anxious.

The half time entertainment is amusing: fans spin around to make themselves dizzy and are then to take a penalty against the home mascot (“Scunny Bunny”). Except they all fall over before they have finished spinning. The announcer on the pitch is enjoying himself anyway.

Of course I recognise some of the travelling fans now; we are some kind of pilgrims after all, trying to keep a kind of faith. Against all odds sometimes!

Second half is little different, except Scunthorpe are better motivated, more switched on. they haven’t won yet and sense things might be about to change. A first half dribble raid by Adelakum which ended in a scuffed shot is repeated. But this time the ball is in the net. A few moments later we concede a free kick. MacSheffrey’s long distance shot beats O’Donnell and they are two nil up.

Cue the charge. We establish some kind of order. Press forwards, more in hope at this stage but things begin to come together. Then, Tom Bradshaw, who must be difficult to play against, is through after willing running. It seems to be in stop-motion. I see him check the position of the keeper (Olejnic) and the ball dinks off his head and curls – towards – the net – over – the – line.

Goal! Well-deserved because the man has been chasing everything since kick off, big hearted and energetic. Good eye for the goal. Manset has shown touches of skill, but been a little off the pace. But he is big. He is strong and the defenders knew he was there. I would like to see him in the team again on Saturday (home against Colchester), just a little more bedded in.

It’s not enough. Baxendale making a big, bold challenge to keep the ball in provokes a bit of passion from Scunthorpe’s Bishop, who has niggled all game (but at least has some fire and passion about the game). The referee who has been poor all game, not stamping his authority, gives a goal kick when, in fact, the ball didn’t go out at all.

So, Scunthorpe’s winless run ends. Does ours continue or did it just get worse than that?