The Diary

28 April 2003: Beware! Seal-Cull In Progress!

I suppose you could say that tonight's reserve game versus Villa represented the end of an era for us regular supporters; no more will we see SuperBob take to the field of play in that famous blue and white striped shirt, competitively speaking, that is. Sure, there will be that testimonial once the dust has settled on the embers of the present season, but the difference between Bob appearing in what amounts to a friendly, and Bob strutting his stuff for real is, for true Baggies, one of several degrees of magnitude. And he wasn't the only one whose Hawthorns swan-song came tonight; of the side that did battle with our much-loved local rivals, The Beast, Jordao, Des Lyttle, Lee Marshall (I strongly suspect), and Ross Adams will all be headed for pastures new come the close season.

Never let it be said, though, that our manager failed to turn up tonight to see his second-string in action; in fact, so enamoured was our gaffer of his reserves, no less than SEVEN Gary Megsons took the trouble to attend! Just in case you all start wondering as to whether chairman Jeremy Peace is now in cahoots with a mad scientist who quietly performed some sneaky-beaky cloning experiments in the laundry-lady's little room once everyone had gone home for the night, let me explain: seven Meggos turned up, all right, but beneath all those ingeniously-made face-masks (fashioned from enlarged colour photographs of our leader), there lurked the unmistakable features of the Anc family and friend, all bawling stock Megson phrases like: "PASS THE BALL!", "DON'T FOUL!" and "KEEP YOUR SHAPE!" which must have had some of our finest really going at times! Once seen, never forgotten, believe you me, and duly recorded for posterity by The Fart's trusty camera!

Should the pic turn out OK, it'll be in the first Dick of next season, that 's for sure, but a little bird has told me all seven Meggo-clones may also be visiting Ewood Park next Saturday! Don't say you weren't warned! When I first clapped eyes on them, I completely dissolved into hysterical laughter and it took several minutes before I could regain my composure once more. As a matter of fact I had been tipped off in a roundabout sort of way that something would happen at tonight's game, but I took Anc's little whisper for the deed and assumed that the Megson attending would be none other than the genuine article! At least the 'mass-Meggo' display got a laugh from some of the players as they warmed up - well I think it was a laugh!

The game? Oh, yes - the game. Sorry. Well, let me put it this way; being of a conservation-minded sort of bent, I'm not familiar with the minutiae of when the seal-culling season commences in Canada, but after tonight I think I can safely say that as far as our favourite football club is concerned, it's well and truly started! The fun began after about eight minutes when Scott Dobie was sent arse over tip in the box by a marauding claret-and blue; cue for You Know Who to step up to the spot and (hopefully) bang it away, but first, a dismissal! Bye-bye time for their Number Four, Cahill, sent on his blubbery and bewhiskered way to the tune of "Cheerio, cheerio, cheerio!" from the chorus of blue-and-white-clad well-wishers stationed in the vicinity of the players' tunnel. Once that had been taken care of, it was show-time for our soon-to-be-departed striker. A quick run-up, and blam! Baggies one-nil up, and Bob on an Albion score-sheet for what was probably the last time in his career.

Three minutes later, it was the turn of Scott Dobie to add to our lead. The strike, this time, was a header, from a Chambo J. cross, as sweet as a nut; to be quite honest, those fishy-smelling phocines just didn't know what had hit them. With one man short, they were hard put to keep up with our onrushing strike-force, and after that, we should have increased our goal-tally quite considerably, had we been able to convert all those first-half chances into successful strikes. Bob, Dobes and the aforementioned Chambo all had their moments, and it was a pity we couldn't have made our superiority tell to a greater extent.

Come the second period, Villa managed to poke their moist little noses further into the game when Stefan Moore, unchallenged, threaded into the box to make it 2-1, an event which was most definitely not written in the script: cue for more Albion assaults on our neighbours' peace of mind, and, in return, several incursions by the visitors into our Holy Of Holies as well. Just as well, perhaps, that The Beast was alert to pretty much all of the danger. The only sad note of the evening came when Jordao fell to the ground as if pole-axed after what seemed to be an innocuous challenge from his marker; a stretcher was quickly called for, and the lad was carried off to much applause from the crowd. (Pause for thought, here: sustaining a mid-season accidental injury's one thing, but getting clobbered just before your summer holiday must really rankle with some players!) I suppose, from there on in, Villa tried their best to restore parity, but they simply couldn't cut the mustard, and a couple of 'em ended up in the ref's little black book for trying in too boisterous a manner.

Come the final whistle and the win, a standing ovation for Bob as he left the pitch - and rightly so, in my opinion - and a fond farewell, also, to those who were taking their leave of the club in the summer. Incidentally, while I'm on the subject of tonight's game, a big 'well done' to Dave Baxendale and son who drove down from the 'frozen North' to attend tonight's thrash, plus (I think) Earl Plass, all the way from the US of A, and last, but most certainly not least, to our chairman, who was seen in company with Deadly Doug in the 'posh bit' of the Halfords Lane Stand. Blimey, Jeremy, I know you can't always choose your friends in this game, but that's taking hospitality a bit too far for my liking!

Tonight's game was our final one at reserve-team level, and it's interesting to note that our second-string managed to finish the current campaign on 35 points and around halfway up the Prem Reserve League table. This was thanks to a few judicious wins at home, a couple of complete bladderings of sides lower down the pecking-order, plus several away draws; had our senior side managed to emulate their second-string brethren, we would not be facing relegation to The Nationwide come the end of hostilities. Oh - and before I forget, one other thing. I know I've mentioned this before, but after tonight's game I feel it's worth mentioning again. Why, oh why, are we not putting youngsters on the bench for first-team games to give them some experience of playing at that level? Let's face it, we're down, lots of players will be leaving the club this summer, and the couple of games that remain are meaningless, so what's wrong with giving the kids a chance to shine in those? People like Lloyd Dyer, Tam Makandwire, Simon Brown, for instance; not for a whole game, mind, just for the final ten or fifteen minutes. Anything's better than giving blokes like Des Lyttle a substitute's berth. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking Des as a player, but the problem is, in two weeks time, he and The Baggies will be permanently parted from each other. Much more sensible to acknowledge the future by giving youth its head, n'est ce pas? Or is that a team-selection too far for our leader?

And finally.One. I'm still indulging in a frenzied bout of head-scratching after seeing the back page of tonight's E and S, where the headline ran: "TAYLOR ENDS TALK OF MEGSON ROW." Ooh, good - they've finally kissed and made up, I thought, and I eagerly scanned the piece for confirmation, only to find there was not a single word stating they had actually done so! To be sure, there was mention of how Meggo had brought Bob to the club, and all our striker had achieved since his return, but as the piece said, as far as the current spat was concerned, Bob 'refused to be drawn on the issue'. We have sent journo Nick Elwell an email to the effect that the headline is not representative of the content of the piece; if we should get a reply, I'll let you all know in due course..

Two.. So you think we've got problems? As folk-musician Ralph McTell sang in "The Streets Of London", "I'd like to show you something to make you change your mind.." Tomorrow night, 'Im Indoors and myself are off to The Gay Meadow to see The Shrews do battle with Carlisle United; the stark, cold equations for that bargain basement Third Division clash are these: should Shrewsbury dip, they're Conference bound, and should they share the points, they're on a sticky wicket and will have to cross their fingers that other results go for them next Saturday. Should they win, however, it's Carlisle's turn to sweat. Talk about 'shit or bust'.. Personally, I'd like The Shrews to retain their League status, if only for the fact their ground's located in one of the more scenic parts of Britain, but I'm afraid I'm not that hopeful. 'Im Indoors happens to have a Shrews supporter as a workmate, and the news is they've lost six on the bounce now, and are rapidly becoming resigned to eventualities?

 - Glynis Wright

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