The Diary

04 May 2004: Sneaky Shots Surprise - With A Little Help From The Ref!

It?s funny, you know; many has been the time when I?ve railed at the void in futile anger concerning some blatant inequity or another ? politicians and minor royalty getting the best ?justice? money can buy, judicial inquiries that turn out to be a whitewash, that sort of thing ? but with the advent of late middle age came a certain mellowing of my views. Nowadays, I can even watch the constant elasticity with the truth of Messrs Bush and Blair from the relative safety of my living-room, and snigger very loudly, safe in the knowledge that during the sixties, US leaders tub-thumped in similar fashion, but back then, their rants centred around an Asian country with a very strange name indeed - Vietnam. Different film, but same plot, similar actors. Remember, kids, as you express your massed disapproval of the Iraq situation from the streets, us oldies have seen it all before, and, if you?re very unlucky indeed, so will you ? from the wrong end of an army uniform.

These days, though, I tend to leave all that sort of activist stuff to those whose youthful legs can easily outrun the plods, and, after a hard day?s demo-ing, aren?t as likely as myself to be in need of a good stiff dose of Sanatogen. No, my latest gripe has nothing whatsoever to do with politics, but an awful lot to do with natural justice instead, and being football supporters to a person, I?m sure you?ll quickly see where I?m coming from once you?ve read more. My sorrowful tale concerns the Conference play-off semis, the second leg of which was played today, and being a closet Bull when he?s not rooting for the Baggies, my other half snapped up tickets for this one (versus Aldershot) as soon as they first went on sale, which was the Saturday morning of the Palace game. (It did involve an almighty early-morning dash from our place to Edgar Street then back again, nicely in time to set off for The Shrine, as well, but that?s another story entirely!)

Any road up, having watched the first leg?s 1-1 draw on the box (well, you try negotiating the M25 in the rush-hour, and you?ll very quickly see why we chose to view the game from our own sofa!) we were both fairly confident Hereford would book their place at the Britannia Stadium in high style. After all, although they finished as runners-up to champions Chester by a one-point margin, they still trumped the next-comer by an astonishing 21-points, and, what?s more, over the course of the entire season, they managed over a hundred goals scored as well. That, my friends, averages out to 2.75 goals a game, a stonking achievment whichever way you care to look at it. It was just their rotten luck to come good at the same time as Chester, who achieved their ends in a quite different way; constantly packing ten men behind the ball, having a rearguard of gigantic proportions, and grabbing opportunist goals on the break. Sounds familiar, doesn?t it? That?s Injustice Numero Uno, then; any other season, The Bulls would have won that league in a walk, and had the Conference been operating on similar lines to the Nationwide, or actually incorporated into their structure, a move many have advocated, then they would have been promoted as of right, and I wouldn?t have been sitting here having this discussion, would I?

Now for Injustice Numero Duo. As every football supporter knows, it takes genius of a special kind to completely wreck someone?s dream over the course of a mere ninety minutes, but today, I saw it not merely achieved, but with a certain panache and finesse, as well; even the ghost of the late Don Revie, spoiler-supreme, must have witnessed what I saw today and applauded greatly from above. It all started to go wrong for The Bulls around 20 minutes into the game when one of their players, Andy Tretton, pulled down his Aldershot opposite number about halfway between the centre-circle and the edge of the box. Sure, it was deliberate, even Noddy would have blown up for the foul, but the offender most certainly wasn?t the ?last man?; an infringement worth a yellow card at most, but nothing more. Wrong. Much to my astonishment, and that of the rest of the crowd, Shots followers included, our friend the whistler waved a red instead. Doo wot?

This, of course, put an entirely different complexion on the game, and from then on in, any hope of entertainment and fast-flowing football went completely out of the window. Hereford, now down to ten, had to run around like maniacs to stop their opponents from drawing first blood; what with that, and sheer nerves, they just couldn?t find the sort of rhythm and form that saw them score seven on at least two occasions this season, and nine on another. As for Aldershot, they weren?t that unhappy at not scoring themselves, banking on wearing The Bulls down over the long haul. Both sides did have their chances, though, but Hereford in particular must have really rued a couple of efforts that would have been ruthlessly consigned to the back of the net had different circumstances prevailed.

We now turn to Injustices Numeros Tre and Quattor, and once more, the man in black had a lot to answer for. Twice I saw the ball handled in the box by an Aldershot defender ? the first blatantly so, as the guy was a good 15-20 yards away from the attacking Hereford player when he slung in the low cross; no question of it being accidental ? but despite having a good view of the incidents, both of ?em, neither the ref or his assistant wanted to know. From my elevated vantage-point, it seemed no contest; even David Blunkett (and guide-dog) would have pointed to the spot, no messing. Well, I ask you; a textbook example of a penalty, one you could easily use for instructional purposes when tutoring aspiring refs, and it goes unpunished. I really do despair sometimes.

The game finished its allotted span bloodless, so it then went to extra time, but tired legs and cramp meant neither set of combatants could lift themselves sufficiently to apply the killer blow. That meant Ordeal By Penalty, of course, and from what I?d seen of Hereford United this season (they have a young side, one schooled in the finer arts of the beautiful game, and not at all well-versed in the muckier ways of Conference football) I was certain it could only end in tears for them. And so it proved; The Shots missed their first, giving Edgar Street a fleeting flicker of false hope, but The Bulls then went on to miss both their first and their second; subsequent ?takers? tried their best of course, as did their keeper, but when you?re that many in arrears, it?s a non-starter, pretty much. All that graft, all that entertaining football over the course of a whole season, all those goals scored, delightfully so, sometimes, points accrued ? all blown to the four winds, and largely because of a whistler who was clearly incapable of finding his own anal sphincter even with the aid of a handily-pocketed satellite-navigation device.

An injustice? Yep, and one so screamingly obvious, it would have evoked cries of revulsion from the late unlamented Joseph Stalin, even. Oh ? another thought. Should Aldershot go ?all the way? then they might well live in interesting times; they?re currently part-time, the whole lot of ?em, and next season, League survival might prove to be somewhat problematical. Unless they buy, of course. Sorry to digress somewhat from what?s primarily meant to be an Albion-related piece, but, neutral or not, I really did feel strongly about what happened at Edgar Street this afternoon, not to mention desperately sorry for United and their fervent following. And, in any case, after the distinctly one-sided treatment we received from the whistling fraternity during the course of our previous Premiership incarnation, I?m sure many reading this will empathise greatly with The Bulls, as they experience their darkest hour.

Tomorrow sees us taking to the motorway for the very last time this season, this one also being our last away trip as a Nationwide club. For one season, at least. Stoke?s the destination, of course, this being the game rearranged as a result of God getting a bad attack of dyspepsia some weeks previously. As I?ve already produced my usual potted history of the area, and its famous local people, I haven?t bothered doing that this time (search back on the site and you?ll find it should you be in need of enlightenment) so it?s full speed ahead, then, for a quick look at who?s hot and who?s not on the Baggies front. Because we don?t often have two bad displays on the bounce, I reckon we can take it as read we?re not going to emulate the mind-numbing sterility of last Saturday?s performance, then. As far as team news is concerned, it?s looking very much as though Big Dave?s hamstring is still giving him gyp, so he might well be out of the reckoning tomorrow night. There?s also a bit of a doubt about Paul Robinson?s fitness (the E and S rate his chances of playing as no more than 50-50), so Clem will probably return to the fold should the former Watford man not cut the mustard late doors. Will Jay Chambo still be in Meggo?s good books, I wonder?

There is one smidgen of good news, though; Scouse Jase will be back from suspension for this one, and boy, did we miss him at Reading. That?s tempered, of course, by AJ?s groin problem. We also have more than our fair share of walking wounded up front; as per today?s local press, both The Horse and Rob Hulse are billed as being unlikely to participate, which means we?ll have no alternative but to start with Hughsie and Scott Dobie if neither can be roused from their sickbeds. As Stoke have been such a thorough nuisance in the past ? remember Lou Macari?s ?robust? mob, and bloody Mark Stein? ? what I?d like to see tomorrow night is the Potters given the slip and thoroughly glazed, for once and for all. Having laid so many so-called ?bogey sides? to rest this term ? Ipswich is a prime example ? nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see us finally stick one over the Stokies. Any chance of letting your lads off the leash for this one, Gary? Mind you, even if we do grab all three points, it?s not realistic expecting us to pull off miracles by nicking that League title from Norwich as well. Sure, our players are making all the right noises, but realistically, being 5 points behind and just two games remaining, even if The Canaries do manage to contract psittacosis at The Stadium Of Light tomorrow, I can?t see them slipping up versus Crewe come the last day.

And finally?.. Here?s one to get you thinking, then. Did you know that the last time Hereford United engaged in a ?must win? type of game, not only did it end in disappointment (they were relegated from The Football League following a 1-1 draw with fellow-strugglers Brighton), but we also had a game of our own the next day. The opponents? Then, as now, bloody Stoke, away!

 - Glynis Wright

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