What’s In A Word: Drone?

 

Earlier this week high drama at an international Euro qualifier match being played in Belgrade, Serbia against Albania violence erupted; first on the field of play, then involving spectators. Because of tremendous political enmity between the two teams Albanian fans were banned from the game. However, a drone (pilotless remote controlled flying machine carrying an Albanian flag entered the airspace above the players. One of the Serbian defenders, Stefan Mitrovic, ripped the flag from the machine and the Albanian players – offended perhaps by this abuse of their national banner – attacked the defender. The situation worsened. The experienced English referee, Martin Atkinson, lead the teams off the pitch. On the way off players continued to scuffle and fans also joined in. Thirty minutes later, with Albanian players stating that they were in no emotional state to continue, the game was called off.

 

 

Even if it was misguided, this is passion eh?

It’s been a busy week with wet weather and a visit to the Black Country Living Museum – thankfully in fine autumn sunshine.

… and swapping short text messages with a Mark Savage, author of e-book 120 Grounds for Divorce. We were trying to make arrangements to hook up before the game. I offered canned soup, bread and cheese at our house, he responded with The Saddlers Club at 2.15. No competition there then?

So my brother drifted in with fully lubricated Alfa Romeo (plus two new tyres on the front) and off we spun. Sun happily shining down and filled with the wonderful enthusiasm that’ll get the best of supporters when you know you are playing against the bottom team who are conceding goals at the rate of about three a game. So far that is.

This being me, I waltzed straight past the paying desk in the club and was about to be dragged to the ground by a reluctant but-still-burly security guy … before his feet could leave the ground I had slowed and turned to see my brother (cheers mate) paying my dues. I think the security man was also relieved.

 

Over to the bar, chatter pouring between us. They now have Febian Brandy – a one time rescue project and agile hit man loanee for us – playing for them (on loan from Rotherham). Have no doubt that he should have stayed at Bescot, but equally have no issues with him gong for the money he was certainly promised at Championship Rotherham… but not looking forward to his raiding runs against our defence – even with iron man Andy Butler there (for perhaps his last game for us; he being on loan from Sheffield United (ironically our November opponents in the next round of the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy – to be televised apparently).

 I ordered a pint from a tap displaying a label saying “Golden Ale” but even as I watched it being poured I knew it was no such thing. The bar man didn’t seem to understand …

“What? You think the label on it tells you what it’s going to be?”

Then a quick dash across the car park, up the stairs, through the Bonser Suite to meet the others. Walsall sat back in the first half. Cook the lone man up front – I am disappointed by this especially when we have so many forwards. Sawyers playing a blinder, energetic, challenging and physical: really up for it. So good to see. Ben Purkiss in at right back, Taylor (out with a sickness bug last weekend) as left back and Benning on the left wing. Crewe playing a wide attack, using the wingers a lot and attempting to push up and catch our players off-side.

A comedy moment when Richard O’Donnell saved well and the ball bounced off different bits of his body, between his legs before he got it under control. Well, I say comedy … could have gone seriously wrong.

Flanagan had an exceptional game – guess he’ll be a star of the future – but ran himself into the ground and was duly substituted (Billy Clifford) in the second half which Saddlers started aggressively. Why oh why can’t we start games like that?

Manset came on, but this meant Cook was pushed out to the wing leaving us again with only one striker up front. Go figure, I have this fantasy about how well this pair – or Manset and Bradshaw – would play together in a 4 – 4 – 2. And Baxendale came on. But it was like some kind of shadow boxing, like watching one team play itself, with a lot of lateral passing and skill, but little attack and woefully few shots on goal. Either way.

In the stand we talked about preparations for the family bonfire, going to Crawley on Tuesday, why home fans boo-ed former players (in this case Brandy) and storylines in the classic Eagle comics. Of course there was also banter and work-talk.

But Walsall just couldn’t make the direct approach – perhaps because this is not possible with a target man alone. So there were passages of marvellous passing – from both teams actually, but little passion.

Until our defenders failed to clear a corner on eighty four minutes and Crewe centre half Dugdale stuck the ball in the net.

Crewe fans went wild – of course they did! – and they held out until the final whistle. Of course they did.

Now we are in the relegation zone and trouble is a wolf knocking on the door, while we listen to a different kind of drone in the media. About how the players and management are frustrated and upset and just cannot seem to score goals. Excuse me: whose job is it to sort that out?

Crewe (home)

11^th March, 2014

Morning TV reminds us all today is the first day of the Cheltenham Festival (that’s horse racing) and that, last year there was snow and the track was frozen hard. It is also singing the praises of our athlete’s at the Paralympic games in Sochi. Jade Etherington and Kelly Gallagher winning our first Paralympic “on-snow” medals for their courage in taking on ski-ing while being partially sighted. That’s courage! Our two curling teams are doing well too, it seems. The new one for me is called, I think sledge hockey, and looks like a violent version of the original rollerball film. Disabled players on sledges with ice-hockey style sticks and a puck. Have to try and watch one of the games.

No snow here, this time around. Blue skies, sunshine after early fog and, after a day up at the allotments – mostly it seems shifting slabs –  my body is aching and part of me just wants to curl up in the foetal position in a dark room. The M6 is closed somewhere nearby and that causes knock-on problems for local traffic. As well then that, a bit obsessive perhaps, I set off with plenty of time to spare. A more-than-usual amount of Walsall fans are on the radio and one of them, tempting fate, suggests that after all of the recent defeats Crewe might be in for “a tanking”. Strange how that sent a shiver up my spine. Easily finding a parking spot – my traditional one – I get just a little cold walking to the ground. I don’t rush, there is plenty of time. I’m not queuing to collect a ticket. This one was bought as part of a link-up deal with the Wolves game.

Towering above us, and more importantly the M6, is what was (maybe still is?) Europe’s largest road-side electronic advertising hoarding … and it is advertising forthcoming events at Bescot (but not the matches) and switches to an ad about gas boilers featuring  our captain Andy Butler who is training to be a plumber when his footballing days are over at Walsall college. Gas boilers advertised on an electronic sign: ironic perhaps?

Turnstile staff are, as usual cheerful. But the ground is markedly empty. Two coach loads of hardy Crewe (the Alex) fans stir about in the roof of the Family Stand, but Walsall supporters are like patches of colour and slow-motion movement scattered about elsewhere.

This journal was born as a result of Crewe Alexandra. Mark Savage, a relative of some remove (I never was much good at remembering family links) is a died-in-the –head Crewe supporter. Son of my great-auntie’s oldest daughter (you work it out). Last couple of seasons we’ve headed in to see them, eaten lunch and drunk tea together and taken in the game.

Mark sent me a text saying he couldn’t make this game. Then another saying he had had a book published on Amazon called A Hundred and Twenty Grounds for Divorce. It’s apparently about the break-up of his marriage, subsequent events and his ambition to visit every Football League ground. I mean to buy it (at 77p it’s got to be worth it eh?) But, I thought Hmmm, slightly different but give it a try.

Hence this journal. Thanks Mark. I think.

The two teams are warming up well before kick-off. Nobody could fault our levels of fitness this year anyway. The colours look clean and fresh and the playing surface has been well maintained, looking green and even. Our goalkeeping coach has a fierce shot on him as he’s trying to warm up keeper Richard O’Donnell. And there’s us in need of a striker!

The game starts slowly and never gets going in the first half. We’re trying to be patient, passing the ball across the back a lot, then up, then back again. It is painful to watch but at least we’re not losing as we go in. And they’ve had two players booked. There is the ridiculous pantomime of stewards asking to see season tickets as we drift into the lounge. Not sure what the point is when the ground is so damned empty and letting everyone in might mean we sell a few more beers.

Talk about the planned “stag night” trip. It was going to be Tallinn, now, it seems there is some doubt. Accompanying the father of the groom I am keen to know exactly what responsibilities I will have. Keeping the party out of fights with other groups?

Second half and suddenly we are losing. Crewe looked better than us in the first half, although we could have pretended we were playing a patient passing game waiting to play the killer ball and slam four or five goals in.

Really ?? Well we can dream can’t we?

We seem to liven up a bit then and there are chances at both ends. Substitutions. Lalkovic on, Ngoo on. On loan from Liverpool he is apparently an England under 21 striker … must wonder as he is warming up in front of such a small crowd what his future holds. He tries hard enough and has a fierce shot bent around the near post. But for all our pressure we are getting nowhere, rarely testing their keeper in fact.

Then there’s a searching Lalkovic cross, missed by all the Walsall players up there and planted perfectly into the net by a Crewe defender. Seems for moment that he’s the only one who believes it.

 

Then the ref’s whistle: the  cue  the manic, mighty – some might say edge-of-desperation roar from the now-enthusiastic Saddlers fan and the gallop to a 1-1 draw.

Incidentally the whole Ukraine/Russia situation is no longer big news. Doesn’t mean it has been resolved of course.

 

Photosource:Walsall Advertiser