Riding the Luck: Colchester at Home

20th March: at home.

This is the week of the Cheltenham Festival: horse racing extravaganza just down the M5. Literally thousands of pounds being spent on corporate hospitality, wagers and flights from and to Ireland. The week of St Patrick’s Day.

 

The weekend when both Formula One and Moto GP begin new seasons.

And the week that begins with Walsall still in third place in League One. A seeming impossibility at the end of last season.

To mark the first former Olympic cycling champion Victoria Pendleton finishes fifth in an amateur race at Cheltenham. To mark the second (and Channel Four’s debut as the channel showing F1 there is an interesting Guy Martin programme (on said Channel 4). Set up as a duel between a Red Bull F1 car (complete with semi-trailer and fourteen man pit crew) and Martin’s own superbike(arrives in the back of a white van with one mechanic) in a range of race-offs at Silverstone. The programme also, interestingly drags in science and personalities: David Coulthard piloting the car. Guy Martin in any guise is very telly-friendly: knowledgeable, charming and with an infectious humour. Non-stereotypical he “brews up tea” at the drop of a thing that is dropped easily and often and is an eccentric workaholic. Alf Tupper in leathers?

  

The factors that give the car three victories out of four are analysed, but key to the programme is the relationship that develops between the biker and the Scot.

 

Strangely – and for the first time, races in both classes will be taking part on the same weekends this season. Is this deliberate competition? Or accidental?

More seriously we have had the pronouncements of the Conservative government budget. Amongst the unexpected measures are the setting up of a tax on “Excessively sugary drinks”, allegedly to combat “child obesity” but perhaps to fund a pledge to make every school an academy rather than under local authority control: the long-threatened centralisation of control.

… and, driving home on Friday evening I hear that the alleged ring leader of the dreadful Paris attack has been captured in Brussels.

In the Saddlers news we will now not be playing our Good Friday game away at Gillingham or the home game against Shrewsbury on Easter Monday. To Bradshaw has, deservedly been called up for the Wales games – so an enforced “international break”.

This has both good and bad sides: we will gain games in hand … but these are no good if you can’t win ‘em.

Both games are being rearranged and I am seriously thinking of making the long trip to Gillingham. This has been a truly wonderful season to date (wonderful encompassing roller-coaster and frustrating but standards and spirit have been marvellous).

There are unexpectedly long queues at the ticket office when my brother and I get there; fans needing to get money back from the tickets they had perhaps bought for the postponed games, as well as some buying/collecting tickets for the game today.

There are just over a hundred fans that have made the trip from bottom-of-the-league Colchester. True fans indeed: my hat is off to them!

I decide to delay collecting my Savoy Lounge pass until after the game and head inside the Savoy Lounge. Nobody in there, so I politely nab a chair at a nearly full table and join in with chatter: the game at Burton Albion, a lady wanting to do her happy-dance goal celebrations who has just been given a job as staff nurse at Sutton Hospital and the sacking of Sean O’Driscoll.

Outside to join Cully, Jack and Mike at the pitch side. I hear about the successful trip to New York before we take our chairs.

Expectations are, of course, high; we are, after all playing the team that is bottom of our league Jon Whitney has done a fantastic job of getting the supporters behind the team (this man is a great motivator – we have yet to see if he is also a good manager). And the crowd is, quite literally, buzzing! Which is great to feel, to be part of.

 

But then reality sets in. Colchester are not going to roll over and give up. Far from it! They are keen, active, assertive and we struggle to get to grips with the speed at which they begin. Surely they cannot keep it up? Surely we will adjust ?

Then, with the ball in a totally different part of the pitch James O’Connor is down. Needing treatment. Looks serious: he is helped off the pitch, cannot put his weight on his one foot. Young Matt Preston; solid and physically awesome is shuttled on. He has already played a few games this season, but he is coming into a minefield this time. O’Connor has grown into the role of central defender over the course of this season – and has been another talisman.

Colchester’s much deserved goal comes from a corner. Lanky Owen Garvan leaping high to pop the ball past Etheridge into our net.

 

Maybe, we hope silently, the game will be called off because nine of the visiting fans run about a bit behind the goal.

Their team, cheekily and happily for them are one nil up – and looking good for it.

O.K. Fair enough we are without one of our “main men”, Adam Chambers. Young Liam Kinsella coming in for him is not having a bad game. And O’Connor is not out there, commanding the defence, but …

At some time we notice that both Jordy Hiwula and Tom Bradshaw are wearing black gloves. Tomorrow is the spring equinox, the day on which hours of sunlight and non-sunlight (technically sunlight is shaded from us by the earth itself) are equal: the first day of traditional spring, but this is the coldest day we can remember; low temperatures biting deep. Also the day, wouldn’t you know it when our gas boiler is being replaced at home (a combi boiler) so no central heating, some mess, lots of disturbance and clearing up to be looked forward to.

But, back to the gloves: I am minded of the Kirk Douglas gunfighter character in, I think, The War Wagon. But I am out-gunned by my peers who go for Robert Vaughn’s gambler-pistolero in The Magnificent Seven. Anything sometimes rather than watch poor football. Fashion and films can be a worthwhile distraction. And, is it true by the way that we can really only see 5% of everything that actually exists? That there is stuff in between the stuff that we can see?

At half time, gloves or no gloves, we are still we are one nil down. The crowd I still behind the team, but, as we kick off the second half, patience is wearing thin. We seem to be passing sideways – or worse, backwards, instead of going forwards. There is a tangible edge of frustration. How can we be so brilliant on the road and so poor at home. We haven’t won a home game in the last six. Are we jinxed?

The game continues; we are poor (and Colchester play a part, of course, dominating the game).

There are substitutions: Rico Henry off and Milan Lalkovic on (like for like or near as dammit) and Kieron Morris on for Kinsella. We stir a little after these moves. But Lalkovic cannot make an impression on the defence and is clearly annoyed with himself. Sawyers is booked (properly so for reacting angrily to a poor decision). The frustration is creeping onto the pitch.

Not sure where the plan came from but Matt Preston is now playing further forwards. Winning balls and knocking them down or on. The ball begins to go to our players, nit theirs. We are suddenly energised, realising maybe that we need to get a goal, get two: win the match … because time is running out.

Spectators all around me are adamant we will not get even a draw out of this. Me? I am not so sure.

And, faith pays off, as with a couple of minutes to go Preston finds Bradshaw who controls the ball inside the penalty area and drills a shot past the ‘keeper. We are level. Needless to say the atmosphere changes. The crowd is now baying: urging the team forwards, forwards, forwards.

Some more short, sideways passes. Long balls, crosses and we are in to time added on. Well into time added on. It seems impossible to score, but … we get a corner. Good cross from Lalkovic, the goalkeeper saves, the ball bobbles out to Bradshaw; fierce shot … comes off the bar.

To Preston, who is patience personified, waiting for the ball to drop, keeping his head.

Before he hammers it into the net … and the crowd goes crazy!

 

One we have literally pulled out of the fire.

For some reason the fourth official speaks with the referee and goalkeeper Etheridge is booked. Was he enjoying the goal/ Celebrating? He was too far away from the action. Cannot see this as anything other than an over-reaction. By the fourth official amazingly.

Happy with the three points. Still in third place: both Wigan and Burton above us winning their games (when less than secretly we were hoping they’d both slip up; give us a chance). But, honestly we had some real luck towards the end of this game and those few brave Colchester fans have every right to feel gutted on the way home to East Anglia.

Spirits High? You Betcha! Gillingham at Home

Hallowe’en evening: home.

Last week the clocks went back (Daylight Saving Time which was introduced in a time when it was necessary – not like now when electric light is so freely available it seems) and today is actually Hallowe’en.

I am sitting upstairs typing this having been preparing a bonfire tis morning (for next Saturday evening, though the actual bonfire night is 5^th November) …and fireworks are already lighting up the dark, clear skies outside.

Expectations of the game have been high all week: again it is a top versus second day. Gillingham being one of the league’s top scoring teams; Walsall having the best defence. Quite properly local papers have been full of this … how good it is to have lowly Walsall being accorded this praise and recognition. And so richly deserved!

And Gillingham, not surprisingly brought coachloads of noisy fans to cheer them on.

Queuing up, with my brother before the game to get a ticket for next week’s home F.A. Cup match against Fleetwood (at home next Saturday) we were told by one of the stewards that the office was now only selling tickets for this game :

“… to get every one into this game, next week’s match can wait …” he explained with a smile. Although it appears some grumpy fans were going to make some kind of a protest about this “treatment”: come on people, get a grip; if you were responsible for selling of tickets, what other sensible decision could there be? Really?

Of course, it might just be that it would mean less tickets being sold – say if the result – or the performance were poor.

A lot of fuss was also made before kick-off that the Royal British Legion would be using the game to “kick off” (pun intended) the local Poppy Appeal. Indeed there was an honour guard and a reading of the Kohima Declaration and a one minute silence (brilliantly observed by all fans  (but why were TV sets left on, with the commentary ruining the perfect, respectful silence (note to stewards!)) … but where, oh where were the poppies and collection boxes? Perfect opportunity blown: I had money and orders for two!

Walsall is properly recognised as a local community club and I feel proud when they take public part in such traditions. Clearly the fans around me felt the same.

Seems we were opting for the 4-4-2 system again; leaving Rico Henry (a tremendously energetic , intelligent and willing runner) a little further back and with greater defensive duties than usual, Jason Demetriou likewise in the right back slot opposite to him. Neil Etheridge back in goals and Paul Downing and James O’Connor in the middle of defence.

Gillingham were on the front foot straight away; pushing us back and opening up spaces and making chances. Good too. After eleven minutes a long ball put MacDonald in a one on one race with O’Connor and the ball was in the Walsall net. We were looking a little desperate at times, but, this season we have seen the team come back again and again, so the next action would be worth watching.

Except that Gillingham’s somewhat prima-donna-ish young “star” Dack was left unmarked in our box, slipped, regained his feet, slipped towards the gaol and fell over (maybe too easily) when Downing attempted to get the ball way. Penalty! No real arguments. Downing may have been suckered, but should have been sharper earlier.

Etheridge tried some professional time wasting kidology tricks but the ball was smashed professionally into the net.

So: not only one down, but now two – and maybe demoralised by events.

Absolutely not!

So proud of the team for getting heads-down and we’re in this together, rather than pointing accusing fingers at Downing.

And mounting pressure on the opposition. Passing got sharper, players running into spaces, making space and, with just a little necessary needle creeping into the play we set Gillingham back on their heels. Not easy, they were cool and professional at all times …

Until, almost out of nowhere (with our poorly hit shots (sound familiar?) whizzing over the bar time after time, Kieron Morris cut in from the right wing, dropped a shoulder and popped a vicious left footed shot into the side netting.

Gillingham were rocked at this point, struggling to contain our running and we took over the game.

Within seconds a busy Milan Lalkovic was there to bundle the ball over the line for the scrappy – but they all count! – equaliser. Breathless and stunning: the Gills supporters having been loudly proclaiming their status as “top of the league” fell silent – and no wonder.

Half time!

The second half saw us more in control, Gillingham stretched , though never in panic. Refereeing decisions upset both sets of fans as defenders – mostly visiting ones – became frustrated. One wonderful flare up between a typically emotional (bless him) Milan Lalkovic and the full back had Walsall players properly taking the Walsall winger away to calm down. He came back to the referee and took the yellow card; the defender also being cautioned for his over eagerness to make his point to the official. Fair enough!

Towards the end, we noticed Rico Henry seeming to struggle – I became worried – he turned his ankle and does not know how to slow down. Substitution please, I am thinking. But nobody is paying any attention to me – and in the dying minutes, after repelling Gillingham attack after attack the ball is played – a ball too many? A ball too far? – for Rico. Ever willing he makes it to the ball, takes on the defender, gets into the box and seems to push it too far ahead of himself …

…surely it’s going out for a goal kick ?

… but no; with a superhuman effort he reaches it, cuts it back, a shot goes in, is beaten out only for Demetriou, who has been in the papers talking about getting his first club goal, belting a stunning volley

… into the net.

The crowd went crazy! Real emotional outburst, partly from the justice-being-done feeling after the street-wise antics of the Gillingham players, partly just joy!

All around the home fans.

Justifiably – top of the league.

Then comes the substitution – Henry replaced by Taylor – and the game runs out.

Long way home for the Gillingham faithful, who deserve every credit: proper supporters every one of ‘em.

The crowd is still cheering as we exit the ground, walking briskly back to the car. Passing a guy who reckons he has two bets on the Saddlers: £100 to get promotion and £100 to win the league. His ‘phone rings and he thinks he is being called by radio WM to talk about the game. Good luck on all three counts my friend.

Thanks to my brother to and from the game. This is turning into a really fine season: delusions of mediocrity surely cannot be far away … and clearly the whole football club believes in itself.

I do not join the queue to get my Cup ticket – I’ll catch up with that in the week (hopefully a good crowd, but even so, don’t think it’ll be a sell-out!

Elsewhere the rugby union world cup final has New Zealand beating Australia: a southern hemisphere derby played in the “old country”. Hopefully lots of money was raised for the clubs and associations taking part – and for Blighty too (noble hosts – no choice actually). But, brilliantly, modestly and touchingly when a teenage fan is ungraciously tackled to the floor (trying to get an autograph perhaps?) by a security guard at the feet of the All Blacks doing their lap of honour, the players take over, look after the lad, escort him back to his folks and – Sonny Boy Williams actually gives the youngster his actual World Cup Winner’s medal. How brilliant is that! He has my respect (and is later given a second medal, so he has given away something and had it again – compassion and humility being rewarded!)

In MotoGp Valentino Rossi, topping the riders championship got out of line and out of sorts in the last race and, subject to an official enquiry has been docked important points and, far more grave will start the final race from the back of the grid. Rossi has always been a fierce competitor but seems to have been untypically rattled by Mark Marques in the race – and Lorenzo, second in the championship looks set to prevent “the Doctor” getting an amazing record setting title this year.