Fire Regs at the Beech Hotel: Burton Albion Away.

“Fire Regs” at the Beeches: Burton Albion Away.

I read in the local paper that we have made another loan signing (though last midfield “box-to-box” loanee from Middlesbrough has yet to fire a shot in anger).

A striker! It has to be a striker doesn’t it? We need somebody to help take the pressure off hard-running Tom Bradshaw, win balls for him to run on to, so that he can use his devastating close ball control to engineer more goals and ease us into the final stretch of the season and a winning run …

So, surely be Gad (as my maternal grandfather would have said) I will read on to find we have snapped up a forward; for me, preferably a target man type, but any flavour will do. Surely … ?

No, reading on, and I guess it’s no real surprise that we’ve hooked up another “versatile” midfielder. Admittedly from Premier League Bournemouth (could never have imagined I’d be typing those words in the same sentence) … but, still …

On Thursday night we were at The Garrick Theatre, lovely little local theatre watching A Murder is Announced by Agatha Christie. A typical whodunit featuring the nimble-minded Miss Marple. It’s a story I don’t know but manage to predict the eventual ending( all the while sitting next to a tight-lipped saddlers Widow who remembers the plot from a TV adaptation).

Good to be at the theatre: live entertainment and nights getting both lighter and, dare I say it? Warmer?

But we need two cars to get to the game at Burton on Saturday. Having a good season means that there is now a regular brood of six from Rugeley: and that means an extra car.

Home to one of the biggest breweries in Europe (once upon a time it was Bass, founded in Victorian times, taken over by Banks’ now operated by U.S. giants Coors) Burton is about seventeen easy miles from my house. I worked there once upon a time and have some magical memories of people and events there. (Burton also houses other breweries and a fine micro-brewery at The Bridge.) No surprise that the team is nicknamed the Brewers, with Billy Brewer being the mascot.

 

I offer to do the driving and, after having a quick chat with visiting-home daughter Bec and Scott I top up with petrol and am just a few minutes late. I like to be organised: decide we will park at the official Burton Car park, but as we turn off the A38 get the message that there is a perfect parking spot opposite the Beeches pub and slide gently backwards into the said space.

The Beech Hotel (pub) is the “traditional away fans pub”. At 12.30 the car park is already full, the bar heaving, choruses of Goin’ Down the Wednesbury Road” floating up to blue skies and a ruck of police officers and security men around.

There is also “Little joe’s Burger Van”; with only on family queueing (it is quite early but I warn the woman who serves me that Saddlers’ fans love a burger). I am the only one eating: simple burger and chips and a pint of lager shandy.

Then, giving up one of the only three silver chairs at the only table I join the others to neck my shandy. And it is getting noticeably colder; or is that just the shandy? This provokes some discussion about the relative merits of leather gloves. I can only listen because I have left my own Thinsulate gloves in my other coat.

Jack and Chris decide there’s time for another round (there’s plenty of time as it turns out) but return, laughing about the fact that when Chris steps out of the bouncer- guarded door he is told he cannot go back in as there is a strict “one out-one –in” policy. He tries to tell the guy that he has just come out (the one out) but needs to go back in, to be told:

“Fire regs mate!”

There are times when it just isn’t worth the words …

Meanwhile, we wonder whether these two security guys actually realise that there is a whole separate entrance off the “beer garden” and that people are nipping both in and out of it willy-nilly.

Drinks duly drained we set off to walk the half mile or so to the Pirelli Stadium. This is a different approach: I know the one side of the ground reasonably well as a “conference venue” having attended umpteen meetings there back in the day. But never on a match day and never on a day when the Brewers are actually looking reasonably odds-on for a second consecutive promotion.

Today playing against another, very local and potential promotion candidate in the Saddlers.

And the ground is rammed.

I had been a little angry (unreasonably so) earlier in the run up because of wat I considered a grudgingly small allocation of tickets for away fans: there are reportedly one thousand eight hundred of us crammed into approximately a third of the ground. It is tine: neat, cantilevered stands, but still incredibly small. And we are sardined together: a throwback to the nineteen seventies games in a way: in the standing only section behind the goals. I have a reasonably good position in front of a crash barrier, but my legs are feeling the treadmill running I was doing last night at the gym. But, hey all those bodies crammed in make it warm.

And we are so noisy!

The P.A system is poor: indistinct and the mighty Queen song is reduced to mediocrity, sounding like a poorly practised cover band on a bad night.

Our manager Sean O’Driscoll has been trying, it seems, to play this game down in the media: but nobody here is taken in: we need to win and we want to win. I have my own, tribal instinct reasons to want to come out on top, but this is football.

Burton are managed by Nigel Clough: they are bound, because of this to be a physically tough team and also be fit. I fear it is a game we will do well to get out of with even a single point and everyone uninjured.

 

What would I know?

First off: the team news is good: we have reliable O’Connor back in the centre of the defence. He is combative but experienced and has a wonderful never-say-die attitude. Young Matt Preston has had a good couple of games while O’Connor was out injured, but this is a game that needs a level of maturity. Paul Downing will no doubt be calmer too. Andy Taylor is still at left back. Hmmm, what is going on with the super-talented Rico Henry (he is on the bench meanwhile)?

Before the kick off we actually see our new loanee, just dabbling at the side of the pitch; a few simple exercises. He is soon out of breath. Does he have the fitness we need? There is also Mick Kearns down there, talking with someone, perhaps for the on-line commentary?

By kick off the stand is so crammed I cannot raise my hands in front of me. It feels so confined: low roof, short distance to the pitch side wall. A real throwback to the earlier days of my football watching days. Except we are standing on well-made concrete steps not an ash bank or hard packed earth, and there are no holes in the stand walls for the wind to whistle through and there are no holes in the roofing for rain to find and drip drip drip down my neck. In fact at some grounds there just was no roof for away fans. The good old days?

And this is a sell-out crowd! A top-of-the-table clash local derby!

Walsall are up and at it straight away. Taylor and Lalkovic trying a few things down the left. That don’t somehow come off.

 

And we look good!

Indeed we look good for the whole game, but this left wing thing just is never going to work today. The team, however is up for it. Forde, in particular has been quite outstanding in recent games; more sensible, adopting a wider vision and making some killer runs. Bradshaw is having a busy time; nothing new there then. But he keeps on going. There seems to be something going on: Bradshaw knocking the ball back (under some hefty challenges ) to Sawyers. Sawyers making something happen, bringing in Forde or Demetriou, or Mantom. We also try some hopeful long balls, but these big defenders eat them up. But we are fast, winning some loose ball challenges and looking god. But we have to make this dominance pay. Get a goal! Get a second. We can pass, pass, pass, run, pass back all day but what we need is goals and, try as we might we cannot get a goal.

Half time and nobody is moving. We need to keep our spaces and wriggling out, getting coffee or having a pee, just looks like too much work. Then I get the nutter. He comes from somewhere, pushing and shoving his jelly-boned way through the masses. Ducks under the crash barrier and puts himself in the space. All of the second half he is gibbering, loudly on. And On. And on. What he is saying makes little or no sense; criticising players who are having a good game, moaning about O’Driscoll. Football grounds are not always places to have an in-depth discussion with strangers and there is just no arguing with some people. And arguing with an idiot just proves there are two idiots so … I keep my peace, smile grimly and watch the game.

Walsall kicking towards us in the second half. Still bossing the game. Still not scoring. Still getting knocked about. Little protection from the referee.

There is no scoreboard at the Pirelli Stadium to let me know how long is left to play and it is full time before I realise it.

I am not disappointed, strangely. Pleased that we didn’t lose in the last minute (like last week) but this was a game that, surprisingly would have been so easy to win. We still need that striker … if anybody is listening.

It is simple, simple to slide the car out of the parking space, across the traffic, onto the generous A 38 and I have delivered my passengers to Rugeley and am at home in little longer than it takes to get back from a home game. Wigan ,still heads-down and charging win, taking them beyond our reach (at the moment) to second, but in the way that will happen (us being Walsall) to keep us o tenterhooks, other results go in our favour. We could have done with the win, but we hang on to fourth place (and still have a game in hand on second and third placed teams.

“First, second or seventh!” was the cry in he car on the way to Burton. Me? I’m thinking that if we need to get into the Championship via the play-offs, I’ll take it!

Up The Saddlers!

Struggling With A Virus.

Christmas Eve: home.

Where oh where to begin?

With the weather: so unseasonably mild and parts of the country dogged with ruinous amounts of rain? Carlisle and vast areas of the ironically named Lake District flooded? People losing homes, power and valuables: one couple interviewed on BBC radio 4 about to be married and going on honeymoon – to Venice!

Grass hasn’t stopped growing and this is the shortest day of the year. It isn’t so much about a white Christmas: We apparently have our snowfall later in the season usually; but about the warmth and damage caused by the excessive water. Flood defences overwhelmed and questions being asked in the House!

Milady di Bescot’s evening birthday soiree, coincidentally on the same day as Saddler’s game at Fleetwood Town was called off – waterlogged pitch – went well; even if I was still feeling the effects of celebrating the repaired boiler by heating the house to rainforest temperatures – that or talking too much.

Meanwhile in life reflecting art – or vice versa: Tim Peake has taken off from Baikonur, Russia to become the U.K’s. first ever official public funded member of the International Space Station crew. A former military helicopter test pilot, he seems like a genuinely good guy – but, because Russian Soyuz rockets (some beautiful Flash Gordon meets Gerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds- looking creations) he had to learn Russian before he could fly. Wouldn’t it be cheaper to have bi-lingual labels, I wonder, in the rockets ship … but obviously someone more intelligent than me has thought that one through.

 

And the latest Star Wars film is out. I never really got the whole Star Wars scene; finding it all rather more pantomime than science fiction, but this is the latest block-buster and it is doing super business; from local headteachers attending midnight premieres to franchised merchandise hitting the Santa shelves at just the right time. Marketing eh?

Meanwhile, a few days after Dean Smith left us for what he imagines were pastures better, Burton Albion (top of League One after promotion from League Two last year) lose their manager: Jimmy Floyd Haisselbank. He goes to Q.P.R. Some of my friends were saying that Dean Smith went too soon, that if he had waited, bigger clubs would have been calling on him …

Haisselbank does have a better pedigree, however; being Dutch and having Premier League experience with Chelsea. And Nigel Clough is back at Burton.

“All change on the roundabout …”

Speaking of Chelsea … they sacked the “Special One”: Jose Mourinho too. With a wicked smile I suspect that his downfall began when Chelsea came to Walsall in the Cup; of course it didn’t but it is a pleasing thought. Really, however, I am hard put to know exactly went wrong: he has demonstrated a tactical brilliance and psychologically, a resilience and arrogance as well as having won trophies for each of the many teams he has managed. But, it seems he “lost the players”, had a rush of blood to the head publicly castigating Eve Caneira, respected member of the medical staff at Chelsea, who left shortly after his outburst – and the players just weren’t putting their all into their games.

But his presence in the manager market place will unsettle directors and head coaches whose teams are struggling at the moment.

Watch this space …

Meanwhile I struggled – I will pretend manfully, but my brother bless ‘im came and collected me – to the Walsall Chesterfield F.A. Cup replay. Not the most inspiring of games. Chesterfield clearly came to try and contain our wing to wing, short passing game. We were short of players who are becoming key men in our successes. Young Rico Henry out, injured and Andy Taylor, short of game practice, but ever willing, in his place. Doesn’t look even slightly like a professional sportsman Taylor, but he has good overall fitness and no shortage of skill. Bradshaw, still suffering from Antony Gerrard’s agricultural attentions out and Jordan Cook in. He must have something, this Cook chap, but we have yet to see it at Saddlers.

A hundred and twenty minutes played and I, suffering and slightly deranged and delirious, couldn’t remember a decent shot. Well an on target shot that is.

 

So to penalties:

… and we converted each and every one of them. While Spireites Sam Morsy missed one and we get through, skin of the teeth job to be in the Third Round. Away at Dean Smith’s Brentford. Could be a good ‘un.

Equally might not light any fires at all!

By Friday, I am struggling at work, but get through, buoyed by the news that there is a mid-day plus thirty news conference at Bescot to announce (presumably) the new management …

I am liking the sound of a guy named Sean O’Driscoll (former Doncaster, Bournemouth, England under-19s and – most recently – Liverpool assistant manager. Never heard of him actually before this, but the local media (not always best go-to place for opinion I admit) is bigging him up: good contacts, successful with tracking and retaining youth, attacking style, local lad etc.

But I also hope we can find a place for Witney, Ward and Cutler, who have done an outstanding job, not least since Dean Smith parachuted out on us, and must have good relationships with the current players.

The Sunday game is a mid-day kick off. Because Sky TV want a live game on that day. Local derby: Port Vale at home. Not one of my favourite teams, although an old colleague, Terry Mullen, was a keen Vale supporter; and we went to a Walsall game together a couple of seasons ago. He didn’t make the corresponding fixture. I found out later he had, sadly, passed away.

Sunday. Mid-day. Close to Christmas. Game on TV. Not much chance of a big crowd then? Port Vale; so very close geographically, bring a disappointing crowd. And a hard-nosed attitude. By now we know our new head coach (note, not manager) is Sean O’Driscoll. We also believe that the team has been picked by the “three wise men” (Cutler, Witney and Ward. And there is not a recognised striker in the first eleven. Bradshaw still injured and Cook on the bench. We wonder whether Lalkovic or, my favourite, Sawyers will take on the up-front responsibility.

I am wrong. It is Lalkovic who runs and giddily tries and does the crazy-terrier thing. Sawyers, apparently being watched by scouts from Glasgow Celtic, plays a ways back; good touches, but ineffective for long spells as Vale, knowing our patient side to side strategy play a high line.

Which muffles out our skill – and means a fairly dreary first half. Port Vale, to be fair, do get the ball into the net after a couple of minutes (was Etheridge concentrating?) but it is deemed off-side.

There is a young woman who regularly comes and takes a seat near our places. Clearly a relative (girl-friend?) of one of the players. She sits quietly, loyally and all alone. Sometimes using her mobile ‘phone, sometimes just looking around. We are puzzled: which of the players? None of her reactions give anything away. At half time she moves out of the seat, then return later. She seems to have nothing to do with any of the other family members; a lot of whom we now recognise, and this is unusual because the rest of them are fairly close and at least nod in recognition of each other. Christmas must be hard for professional footballers (no excesses and training going on unrelenting) and also on their nearest and dearest. Leaving parties early, not drinking … must put pressure on relationships.

Some minutes in to the second half: Jordan Cook comes on. His gestures seem to mean that both he and Lalkovic will be staying up front. Can this be right? Not something we have seen all season. But he is soon busy, grabbing the attention – one way or another – of the Port Vale defenders. And Milan makes good use of the spaces created. We are fitter, have the energy to press on as the opposition give ground.

Cook is involved in a physical discussion at the edge of the field, by the far post, tangling with a defender. Neither ref nor his assistant seem to notice. He spins away, eyes back to the game. The ball. We are on the attack. The ball bobbles, eventually to him, while the defenders hesitate. He puts it into the net. Celebration. This will put us into second place in the league: three points behind Burton Albion and with a game in hand.

…if we can hold on.

But this is not a team that holds on. We go on the offensive. Forde, Taylor pushing up. It is exciting to see. A rasping shot comes back off the bar, falls to Cook and he buries it!

Two nil! Playing with two men up front is paying off!

 

Dare to Dream? Chance’d Be A Fine Thing: (Colchester Away)

Colchester?

A simple, unGoogled guess is the way to Stansted airport and a few miles and roundabouts more. My car could find its own way to Stansted these days I believe, but money and time are short. Following Walsall is good, especially since we are doing so much better away from home – at the moment – but there are other things in my life. Work being one. The winter weather being another, and the associated lack of light that early sunset brings.  Something like six, seven hours drive there and back didn’t appeal.

But in a masochistic way going to the gym did. Not exactly a New Year’s resolution, but I do need to spend a little more time and thought on getting regular challenging exercise. So a walk to renew library books, get meat from the butchers, cream of chicken soup … then off to the local Fitness First gym. Wow! It is so completely different at two o’clockish, Saturday afternoon. Almost empty: park where you want, plenty of spaces. And the machines are deserted … a ghost-gym if you will. I can automatically sign myself in now by waving my card over the gizmo on the desk: good job because I cannot see any staff about. My plan was to settle on to some of the aerobic machines facing the strip of TVs over the – quite unnecessary in my opinion – mirror wall at the “front” of the floor. Put myself in for a long session, on bike or treadmill, and watch the football results, highlights/pundits and keep up with the scores. But I was there a little too early. So instead I am watching an animated film (what is the difference between a cartoon and an animated film? I wonder as I pedal at level 9 across the “random” programme) with pigeons and railway trains. That and a Michael J Fox U.S farce that I have seen – and enjoyed. He falls madly in bed with his aunt, and in love with a character played by Helen Slater and it all ends happily ever after, though once it is finished I can never remember how it was resolved.

There is football punditry on only one screen, which is showing a surreal loop (without sound) of manager’s heads (I recognise Mourinho, Alan Pardew, Harry Redknapp and Paul lambert); there should be a link, however tenuous and I am puzzled: what might it be?

I finish my exercises at around about half time, get into the car, turn on the radio. Walsall winning one – nil: an Antony Forde header after good work from Jordan Cook.

I decide to drop in on mom. My brother is there. We talk: trains, terrorism, rights of free speech, and by the end of the game we have won: two nil. Super work from a typically calm Bradshaw; putting the ball inside for Michael Cain to notch the second.

  

Colchester haven’t won at home since October.

In another game two Scunthorpe goalies were stretchered off; both had broken arms; both injured in collisions with Bristol City players. Football is a simple game really, but there are so many possibilities and permutations. Has this ever happened before?

Not so far away at Molineux, there is a sadness at the celebration of the life of Sir jack Hayward: the man who, essentially saved Wolverhampton Wanderers with his generosity and enabled the club not only to survive but re-invent itself. Massive building projects reshaped the ground and, though managers came and went the spirit of the club lives on. I am fiercely loyal to my team, but sometimes in this world of corporate investment and clubs being financed, funded and held together by foreign owners the genuine role of the local businessman supporting his local club and having such a genuine affinity with it deserves recognition. The day did Sir Jack proud by all accounts, so respect to the Wolves (if only for once and for a short time).

Incidentally Hayward was also generous in many other respects: funding the return of S.S. Great Britain from the Falkland’s, sponsoring a library in a local school and England Women’s Cricket team. Amongst so many other creditable deeds. Not everyone who has money uses it selfishly and, though I daresay there will be those who will unkindly suggest Sir Jack could have done more it is certainly true that he did more than many.

For Walsall fans there is now the dilemma:

Success in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy and a trip to Wembley … or the longer-term glory of a possible paly off place? We are continually consistently inconsistent as Darren Fellows wrote in Monday’s Express and Star:

“Away wins at Preston and Colchester, home defeats to Coventry and Scunthorpe.

Clean sheets on our travels, defensively abject at home …

Just about everything you already knew about this team in four results.”

Nigel Clough, studiedly stubborn and obtusely straight spoken has lead Sheffield United to the promotion zone in League One and a League Cup semi-final. Asked on TV whether he would go for the Wembley Final or a play off game he finally answered (like his father, Brian,  he rarely gives a simple answer) that he would have to pick the play off appearance.

Me, I’m crazy enough to dream and wonder why say either one or the other, let’s do both and a bit more besides.

The long wait and inevitable, slightly patronising hype will be about soon. The second leg game match is – apparently – sold out.

We did brilliantly to win at Deepdale; we have players beginning to get a second wind: let’s get our seats on the roller coaster – and hang on tight. It won’t be easy … but being a Saddler’s fan never has been.

Images: Walsall match: Walsall Advertiser

Molineux; itv.com

Bradshaw, Blades and Christmas Coming Up …

So … that convincing home win against Barnsley stretches an unbeaten run and puts us four points off the play off places. For those of you unsure about the system: top two teams in the league get automatic promotion to the Championship and those placed three to six enter a play-off with home and away games aggregated score deciding which two teams play in the final for the third promotion spot. To qualify we have to finish better than sixth. That is real progress after a very poor start to the season and, I will reluctantly admit goes some way to vindicating the outwardly calm, no-panic approach of the management team. 

Walsall Football Club always seems to be run on a shoestring budget: if we cannot afford it we ain’t gonna risk it kind of approach. I’m all in favour of that, especially since we have a fine system of scouting that turns up gems like Tom Bradshaw (below right) and get some superb loan players in – Michael Cain (below left)  from Leicester is a current example. It must also be about the relationship between players and staff of course – so I guess something is going well. It certainly felt like it watching the Barnsley game!

 

But our next three games pit us against quality teams who are above us in the league: Sheffield United away, Swindon at home on Boxing day  followed by MK Dons away.

Sheffield United, the Blades, fresh from knocking Premier League Southampton out of the Capital One Cup are managed by Nigel Clough. They play at Bramall Lane. Sheffield, once the knife and cutlery making capital of the world: once the home of the mighty British Steel and the sought-after “made in Sheffield” mark meant quality all across the world. Certainly my grandmother had some of it, set, she always said in whalebone handles.

 

Before the game we take a trip to Cannock Chase to buy a Christmas tree. Choosing a five footer that is now decorated and set up in the corner of the living room. Sentimental attachments to many of the decorations that are reminders of our daughters growing up and of places we have visited. And, so pleasing when the lights come on …

Dreadful news from Peshawar, Pakistan, where a hundred and forty one people, including a hundred and thirty two children have been killed during a so-called terrorist raid. It seems inconceivable that any religion can claim that educating children is wrong but this seems to be the twisted logic behind the raid. Outrageous! Cowardly! The future can only be poorer unless everyone gets and education – surely? Although many students in the developed world may not see it as such – learning – and learning how to learn – is a privilege. The fact that  there are regions of the world that do not have this yet makes us all poorer. That a culture would try to prevent it is feudal and ignorant. Thoughts with the families there – for the very, very little that it is worth.

As a result the Pakistani prime minister has reinstated the death penalty.

Back to sport, where there is some degree of sanity. Rugby Union team Wasps have played ther first game at their new home, the ricoh Arena in Coventry – a long-running saga this one. One-time F.A. Cup giant-killers Hereford United have been declared bankrupt – after ten  court winding up hearings.  While in this year’s F.A. Cup lowly local team Worcester City, having forced a gallant draw in their  first game at Scunthorpe went out in a dramatic replay with a new record number of shoot-out penalties before resolution: thirty in all. Hope it brings few new fans to the Aggborough club.

BBC has had its annual Sports Personality of the Year, reflecting the highs, lows and dramas of sport. Lewis Hamilton (Grand Prix driver) won the overall people’s vote: Cristiano Ronaldo the international player of the year and the first ever GB team from the Invictus Games getting a fine award, with a marvellous tribute from Prince Harry who when asked how he felt gave credit to the athletes but added “like a proud dad!” with a  big, genuine  smile. I am really proud of how far sport for the disabled has come and how that label “disabled” carries no stigma in my country.

We have had no really cold winter weather yet. It gets dark, it is wet, sometimes windy and grey, but cold? Not yet.

So Saturday dawns and I get to the afternoon radio. BBC WM as is traditional for me. Better than BBC Sports Live as it concentrates on local clubs. I am reading with an ear open for the “goal horn” but the  irregular “catch up reports” from Sheffield are not exciting for either side. The commentator makes it sound dull – perhaps it actually is, but that’s not what I want to hear.

Neither some minutes into the second half is that Sheffield have scored. Better news shortly afterwards that Tom Bradshaw has equalised: a splendid header I later see as I watch highlights. That’s eleven goals for him this season so far …

A draw at Sheffield? Tom Bradshaw getting another goal? A run of seven unbeaten games? and Michael Cain’s loan period extended? Keeps me happy.

Merry Christmas!

Blades Out! JPT:Sheff. Utd. (home)

A little digression before we begin. The weekend passed while I was in Tallinn. Walsall crept a replay against Shrewsbury and Walsall Football Club paid a fitting tribute to Stewart Staples, long-time fan of the club – and a good friend to my family and I.

It was also Remembrance Sunday weekend. A hundred years since the beginning of a war which surprised everyone by its duration and the damage, loss of life and injury caused. Alrewas, just up the A38 from me is the proud home of the Memorial Arboretum. Funded by voluntary contributions the site has risen from quarried land to become a fine establishment and, this year one of the key sites for remembrance. Ironically during the war years Alrewas had a fine women’s football team, but at the end of hostilities the F.A. banned women from playing in public apparently. Imagine how the world might have been different if this decision had not been made.

 

Sheffield United suddenly became newsworthy at the start of the week. A former player, Ched Evans (a Welsh international) has been released from prison following serving a sentence for rape. His contract with the Blades ran out while he was inside.

Upon leaving prison he wanted a chance to “go back to work” (play professional football and his case was, it seems taken up by the Professional Footballer’s Association. He has been allowed to train at Sheffield United (managed by Nigel Clough). There has been a tremendous uproar from all quarters. From those connected with the club, from the shirt sponsors, from Jessica Ennis-Hill (Olympic athlete) who has a stand at Bramall Lane named for her, from TV presenter “Charlie” Webster (A club patron apparently) to name but a few.

 

 

While I confess to being mildly surprised I can, of course, understand the furore. However, given that the courts found him guilty he has served his time and deserves a chance to return to life. He will never be able to do it without stigma – inevitably – and, should he ever play professionally again, he will find that football fans have a unique way of dragging players’ histories up, again and again. But courts do not dispense justice: they dispense decisions according to the law. Evans is still claiming that he did nothing wrong is upsetting his detractors who feel, rightly that as a potential “role model” he should take responsibility for his actions. So … Sheffield United were due to play is in the regional quarter final of the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy on Wednesday night. But it is entirely possible that their minds were on other matters, not least a realistic promotion challenge this season.

On my own at the kick off, part of a disappointing two thousand plus crowd I find that a TV camera station has been set up blocking the view from my season ticket seat. The match, evidenced by the plethora of grey-not-quite-silver vans on the car park is being broadcast on Sky TV. I move along a couple of seats, dodge about as genuine seat owners claim their rightful places – and settle up between a trio of professional scouts and another regular. We were soon talking and a man, sort of familiar, tried to walk the narrow space between the back of our chairs and the windows of the windows of the lounge. I helped him past as he stumbled and looked like falling. Kenny Jackett (Wolves manager).

Good support from a couple of coach loads from up north.

Kick off and a bright start. To and fro football; Saddlers probably just edging it. Bradshaw, brave as always up front. Sawyers, Cain and Forde in midfield attacking roles. Ben Purkiss having another excellent game. So are the Chambers twins. Some fairly innocuous challenges seeing players yellow carded and a severe one which took Bradshaw down not even getting a free kick. Consistency please?

Good saves by O’Donnell – left exposed a couple of times.

 

Second half started without Bradshaw, replaced by Manset. I find out later he has “stretched a hamstring”. Quick forward work and we win a corner. Purkiss would say later in a radio interview that the set piece was “one of ten or so we rotate …” but Sawyers ran to the ball, got a neat flicked header which the defender at the far post, under pressure from Jordan Cook helped into the net. I am not a statistician by any means but cannot remember the last time we scored from a corner.

  

 

We were then on top for a long spell. Nigel Clough had many a number of changes, while Dean Smith is keeping to his word and playing his “strongest team”. Whatever, despite a late flurry from Blades, and after five minutes added time we are into the regional semi-final.

A lot has been made by local media about the fact we have never played at Wembley in our entire history. This evening we are a step closer, in this competition than Sheffield United are going to be.

It was a good result. TV audiences would have switched sides long before the end I think: not enough action or drama! But sometimes a result is the only thing that counts. We are hearing the buzz word “momentum” around our club now. If that means the motivation/inspiration you get from putting a run together I’ll take it.

Driving home I notice how dark the skies are.

Somewhere out there, around three hundred million miles away the European Space Agency has landed an unmanned probe on a comet. How amazing is that? The rocket carrying it was launched ten years ago in a planned rendezvous. Called Rosetta the mission has the lander on the surface returning signals and data back to Darmstadt, Germany. It’s where science gets exciting.

 

In a script a little like The Martian, things are not quite as planned and the batteries of the lander may not be able to re-charge. But we’ll learn a little more from the information we get back.

A little closer to home David Moyes has taken up the manager’s job at Real Sociedad. Good luck to him.