The Diary

02 October 2004: Trotters Trounced!

It?s always difficult to find the right words with which to kick off one of these pieces, and today?s been no exception. A great all-round team effort that saw us reap the fruits of victory for the very first time this term ? but I was still absolutely buggered trying to find a suitably different opener for this one. ?It was a dark and stormy matchday?? Naw. ?There are many kinds of football matches?? Nope. Despair? Not at all ? because whilst scratching my head furiously in bewilderment, I then remembered The Junior Bag-Carrier, aka Carly Lewis, and her homework. Puzzled? Simple, and this is how she did it.

On her way to The Shrine today, she?d been catching up on some school homework, she told me, so, in a frenzy of pre-match curiosity whilst in the Arab Tent, I asked to see some of her exercise books. On perusal, I discovered one of said books happened to be about Religious Education. Curious to know what they taught kids these days, and idly flicking through the pages, I suddenly came across one topic where the question posed by the teacher was, ?Who is God?? Carly, bless her cotton socks, had come up with all sorts of erudite answers to the question. Me? ?Whoever gets us our first three points!? said this (extremely secular) column, wearily and cynically, so assuming my answer is correct, according to my theory, very soon The Mighty Zoltan will have no option but to put on a big white robe, acquire a big bushy beard, and park his ample bum on that whacking great throne Up There. Assuming he can get Cloughie off it first, of course. And, if he needs a Jesus lookalike at his right hand to really give him some street-cred in Heaven, well, who better than our more-than-hirsute Baggie chum Jonathan Greening?

Today?s game really was the one I?d thought we?d lose. Mentally, I?d completely written it off well before the kick-off, so no-one was more surprised than me at the final whistle, and pleasantly so, may I add. Well, I ask you, who expects a side well in the doo-doo to triumph over one fourth in the table this morning? A marvellous result, a marvellous all-round TEAM performance, and, what?s more, thoroughly deserved, as well. There wasn?t a trace, a scintilla, even, of luck about this particular Baggie feat, of that you can be assured. For the most part we defended well and, what?s more, there were lengthy periods during that game when we really had Bolton rocking at the back. One teensy-weensy note of censure, though. A shame we didn?t go at them a little more once we?d doubled our lead; had we done so ? by giving Earnie his chance off the bench, maybe? ? I reckon the final score could have been bettered. But that?s just a bijou quibble on my part; to say more than that would border on the pedantic, and that?s not what I?m about today. Let?s just enjoy the moment while we may, and worry about the nitty-gritty later.

Once inside Alan Cleverley?s little harem, it was time to peruse the new Big Screen at leisure. One of the main posers for the Supporters? club at present is whether to invest their dosh in making the place a little bit more hospitable for the punters ? from what I?ve been told about the d?cor beneath, even Roddy Llwellyn-Bowen himself would have reached for the sick-bucket at the sight ? or whether to leave things as they are in the knowledge it?s supposed to be a temporary thing anyway. Difficult: even assuming best-case scenario, a move to more congenial surroundings is at least three seasons away, and looking at things in a more realistic manner, John Homer and his merry men (and women) could be nomadic a lot longer still.

At least we do have somewhere to go on matchdays, now. And it?s to the credit of the Supporters Club they?ve managed to negotiate a deal with the proprietors of the Hawthorns Hotel, so more power to their elbows, I say. Still, it was quite pleasant spending an hour or so just batting the breeze and perusing Carly?s curriculum. I must say, kids now seem to cover stuff I did at O Level, especially in the sciences. Already, Carly is doing calculations on forces applied to things like beams (definitely O Level physics in my time), and details about the respiratory system I only did in my fourth year. Cor, it isn?t half humbling seeing her churn out this stuff, and she?s only in her third year. What the hell do they do at GCSE, I wonder ? nuclear physics?

On the way out, quite a pleasant surprise; standing adjacent to the little table where the committee bods sit, the one hard by the entrance, was none other than Adrian Chiles, he of Match Of The Day 2. I hadn?t realised it before, but he does read this column; I only discovered this because he was quite impressed by a bit of trivia I?d included recently, something he genuinely didn?t know until I?d mentioned it. Blimey, whatever next? ?By Appointment To The BBC?? Surely not?

Off to flog some Dicks down Halfords Lane, then, and what a pleasant late afternoon to be doing it. In contrast to the earlier murk, the sun was shining fit to bust, the leaves on the trees opposite were just acquiring their first tinge of autumn gold, there was a slight breeze, but overall, it was warm, very warm. A lovely day for football ,you might say ? and a lovely day for meeting people, as well. Take Michelle and Jean, my cat-owning chums, for instance. Mind you, their tale was not one of joy; one of their four cats recently developed a tumour internally, and the poor mog had to undergo a serious operation to extricate the blasted thing. From all accounts, it was touch and go for a couple of days. Stull, puss is now back to his normal self, thank goodness, likewise our chums are now back to the Baggies.

My next caller, a lady I know by sight but not by name ? she?s a regular purchaser of Dicks ? told me that she knew a bloke whose father appeared in the 1931 Cup-winners group photo shown on the current cover. He?s W. Richardson?s son, apparently (no, not W.G. Richardson ? Albion had two Richardsons on their first team books at the time), and she?d seen both his Cup-winners medal plus a silver replica of the Cup that was specially struck to commemorate the occasion ? the latter?s now worth an absolute bomb, so she tells me.

It was the turn of academia to rear its erudite head next, in the form of Bryn Jones. Given the vast intellectual capacity of my visitor, you might have thought the conversation would have revolved around abstruse points concerning sociology, his discipline ? but you?d be dead wrong, chum. What we nattered about was ways of lessening the pain caused by bad backs! The thing is, Bryn also suffers, and we regularly swap relieving therapies whenever we meet. The latest on the ?must try? list is placing a hottie-bottie behind one?s back on retiring - and, just to clear up any misunderstandings, what I?m referring to here is a filled rubber receptacle, nothing more buttocky than that. Er ? on the other hand, looking at what I?ve just written, perhaps it?s better I change the subject quickly before I land myself even further in it?

I knew it had to happen, sooner or later. What am I on about? Easy ? there they were, framed in the light from the setting sun (should have been the other way round, really). Loads of them, and scrutinising match tickets as if they were made of some precious metal, or something. What am I on about? Japanese Baggies, that?s what ? about twenty of the blighters, and all with seats in the Halfords, from what I could see. Not that they were going to see their favourite; by all accounts, it?s going to take at least a month before Inamoto gets first team-fit, never mind Megson fit. Additionally, just before we packed up for the day, another visitor, someone employed by the club until comparatively recently. And, despite long service, made redundant, then promptly escorted off the premises within a short time of actually being told. As a result of the shock, this person is still receiving medical treatment. Charming, isn?t it? This depressing news put quite a damper on my day. Welcome to the world of West Bromwich Albion plc, my friends. ?Nuff said in case I say too much.

Inside, then, and relatively late for a change ? the game being live on the box, and the late kick-off had put quite a dampener on the gate. It?s not all that often we can stroll through the turnstiles with just five or so minutes to spare, these days. And, once inside, another shock. In the concourse beneath the Halfords, on the wall nearest the entrances to the pitch, some brand new illuminated poster-points. At the moment, they?re advertising some forthcoming movie or another ? something called ?Hell-Boy?, is it? That must be the reason for the crane I saw the other day, presumably. Or was it for one of the big screens? Aw, what the hell?.

As for team news, as you?d expect, there were changes aplenty, thanks to all those suspensions being thrown about like confetti by the FA in the week. Much to my surprise, Earnie was left on the bench, and The Horse plus Kanu given the nod up front instead. Jason Koumas left out completely? Big Dave in at the back? Eek! Having said all that, such was my depressed state by that time, as far as I was concerned, it didn?t matter who was there, they?d still be isolated as far as I was concerned. The full side? Hoult, Scimeca, Gaardsoe, Big Dave, ?Jesus? Greening, The Horse, AJ, The Mighty Zoltan, Albrechtson, Hass and Kanu. Subs? The Polish keeper whose name I keep misspelling, so I won?t even try this time, Contra, Dyer, O?Connor, and Earnshaw. The ref? Mark Clattenburg; with a monicker like that, you can only go one way, can?t you?

So, off we went for the benefit of the cameras, finally. During those opening minutes, much support from both ends of the ground for our beleaguered manager. And, predictably enough, from the Bolton bit, chants of ?You?re going to be sacked in the morning!? At first, Bolton came at us a little, which meant we were on the back pedal for a while, but come the seventh minute, they had a narrow let-off when The Mighty Zoltan well and truly told The Trotters their fortune with a shot that only narrowly missed the target. Mind you, it was a little tame, Gera didn?t get enough behind the thing ? but at least we?d had a go. Two minutes later, it was the turn of Kanu to bring forth cheers from Baggie throats; some trickery from him created space to send over a lovely cross, but the ball was struck too fiercely, and went out for a goal kick instead. And, not long after that The Horse was on the receiving end of a superbly-drilled through ball but the shot, again, was tame. Never mind, though, the idea was right.

Before the opening 15 minutes were through we?d also seen Gera have a go, then Greening, aka ?Jesus?, with what was seemingly half cross half shot; whatever its provenance, all I know is it damn near snuck in under the crossbar. Then, with about 12 minutes gone, the closest shave of all for the Trotters. In quick succession, Big Dave nearly made his mark on the game ? that one was kicked off the line ? then the ball dropped for Zoltan, who tried to overhead-kick the thing in, only for his effort to be sent sailing for a corner instead. I think my precise words at that moment were, ?You jammy b******s, Bolton!? No doubt those Baggies sitting nearest the incidents must have phrased their comments in far pithier terms than that.

Blimey, I?d never realised this could be in the script. Bolton were extremely fortunate not to be a goal down, and it wasn?t a fluke, either. We were genuinely putting together some lovely moves for once, Gera especially. With 17 minutes gone, Gera ? yes, that man again ? made a meal of a Bolton tackle, and we had a free-kick right in front of their goal. No Clem, no Koumas ? what would we do? The answer, sadly, was nothing. The bladder simply floated out of harm?s way, and nowhere near the intended target.

With 25 minutes gone, there came a worrying moment for us ? and me. A flash of brilliance from Bolton that ripped us apart, they fired their ammunition ? and Houlty tried to grab the ball, but spilled it instead. A hairy moment or two then ensued - I believe someone hit the post - before a Baggie could finally boot the thing out of the playing area. A bit worrying, that. It?s not the first time this term we?ve seen our normally-reliable custodian spill what look to be dead-cert balls ? and at Newcastle, it cost us. Whatever it is that?s ailing you, Russell, please get it out of your system, and soon ? because my nerves won?t stand it much longer!

Then, towards the end of the half, a surprise. Off came Bolton?s Jay-Jay Ococha, and on came El Hadj Diouf, on loan from the Scousers (red variety). It was only later I discovered he?s only just passed a late fitness test, which explains a lot, I suppose. Mind you, I didn?t argue at the time ? as far as I was concerned, we were well rid of one big menace. Not long after that, with just a minute left on the clock before the interval, we could have struck oil again. This time it was Zoltan?s turn to turn away in agonised fashion; the attempt, from about 20 yards, was only just wide.

If the encounter had been a boxing match, and not a game of football, I would have said we?d won that first half on points ? but sadly, it wasn?t, and we really needed to put away some chances in the second period. It could be argued convincingly that?s what cost us on several occasions this term ? so time to rectify the situation, then. Appropriately enough, it was the bloke Baggies nickname ?Jesus? who nearly provided us with a miracle ? certainly, it was miraculous the way the Bolton lad managed to get in the way of Greening?s effort, which looked for all the world bound for goal.

And, as our finest laboured, so did Megson, all fire and brimstone, both physically and verbally. Commented me to ?Im Indoors: ?Blimey, I?d hate to be driving and have a prang with his car!? Then, with only five minutes gone, I happened to witness a rare sight indeed. What was it? Simple ? Bolton were awarded a throw in their bit of the pitch, but when they came to take it, they tried to do so by pinching an awful lot of yards. Twice they tried, and twice they were warned ? then, the ref finally lost patience, and gave us the throw instead! Serve the buggers right. I honestly can?t remember the last time I saw that happen ? no doubt The Fart will fill me in when I ask him.

Then, with just 11 minutes on the clock, the breakthrough we truly deserved. The Mighty Zoltan was the architect of the goal, with a lovely cross from the right, and so accurate was the footwork, all it needed was the gentlest of taps in from Kanu, who?d managed to escape his minders for once. One-nil to us, and the place went absolutely barmy. For the first time ever, I believe, I actually heard a rendition of ?The Lord?s My Shepherd? with all four sides of the ground participating for once. And, while all the celebrations were still in the fullness of their throes, what about the guys on the bench. Clearly, our leader didn?t want to throw this one away, and neither did his sidekick, Frank Burrows. There he was, Castor to Megson?s Pollux, gesticulating wildly to his players about something, while his gaffer went off like Krakatoa erupting about some missed infringement or another. Well, at least you couldn?t say they weren?t passionate about what they did, could you?

Six minutes later, we were treated to a repeat performance. This time, The Mighty Zoltan, who?d been absolutely brilliant the whole length of the game, deservedly managed to get us a second. This time, the necessary ammo was supplied courtesy of a corner, which our lad duly nutted in. Loved the gymnastics afterwards ? with goal celebrations like that, who needs shirt removals? A two-nil lead for the first time in six whole months ? the Bradford home game? Quick ? I?m getting a nosebleed!

It was then that things began to get a little hairy. For whatever reason ? instructions from the bench, methinks ? we decided to sit back and defend the lead instead of pushing on for more. It really could have gone pear-shaped on us; eight minutes later, Bolton managed to get one back, from a free-kick taken on the left by Stelios. I?d thought another Trotter had nutted the thing in, but not so, apparently. Somehow, the ball simply whanged past everyone, friend and foe, and found the net of its own accord.

With just 14 minutes left to go, AJ went down. Cue for O?Connor to start warming up by running up and down the touchline, just in case. Said The Bloke In Front ? quite animated by now ? ?It?s all right, Megson?s told him to sit down again. He?s making the crowd nervous!? Another Albion subbing with but ten or so minutes left ? Albrechtson off, and Lloydie Dyer on. We continued to live dangerously, though ? one particularly hairy moment came when one of the visitors got the ball in the box unmarked ? but missed from a range of about five or six yards. Much fury in the ground as the ref decided to add on over four minutes of stoppage time, for what, I don?t know. Two would have been a fairer estimate, and much sterling work was done by Kanu and Bernt Hass to play the ball into the corners and deprive the visitors of possession ? and then it was all over. Three lovely points, our first Prem victory this season ? and, what made things better still, we heard the Dingles had lost to The Hammers. As Pop Larkin of ?Darling Buds Of May? fame would say: ?Perfick!?

We?re now above Blues, several rungs more up the greasy pole, and the first of the promoted clubs to collar a straight three-pointer. This game must have been one hell of a confidence-booster for our finest. Once the break for the international games is over ? I just hope that the enforced stoppage doesn?t disrupt things for us ? it?s Norwich at home, then Palace on the road. If we can recapture the scintillating form we showed today, then we could be looking at an additional six points in the bag, which would put us nicely above mid-table for a while. I?m sincerely hoping this game represents a turning-point in our fortunes. On paper, we have the makings of a pretty good side there, but thus far, underachievement and underperformance has been our lot.

There is an additional piece of fallout from today, and that?s the immediate outlook for Gary Megson. Having enthusiastically endorsed his removal over the past few days, now we?ve finally got that elusive win under our belt, and in such fine style, I?m not so sure of anything, anymore. This could be the turning-point for us; to swing the axe now might well negate all the good work we?ve seen earlier this evening. On the balance of things, and after great quantities of soul-searching, I?ve come to the conclusion it might be better for Jeremy Peace to stick with what he knows for the immediate future. Am I allowing my head (not to mention heart, which is putty-like when it comes to my favourite football team) to be completely turned by one single game, or is our leader truly worthy of the extra time he seems to have bought for himself? It sure is a tricky one, isn?t it?

One other thought. So taken were we two by those unexpected three points, we decided to splash out on one of those gargantuan Chinese banquets when we finally got home. My digestive system is still struggling even now.

And finally??. One. More evidence that The Fart is rapidly acquiring a cult following! Apparently, while selling Dicks in front of the East Stand pre-match, our elderly hero was accosted by a camera crew, who wanted him to speak a few words into the omnipresent mike on the subject of Inamoto?s transfer to the Black Country. Our Crimean War veteran was tickled pink to oblige, of course, which he did in his usual style, spending a few minutes all told, with the crew. When he?d finished, a thought suddenly struck him. ?Er ? which TV company is going to be putting this lot out, then?? he asked, out of curiosity.

The reply? ?Japanese TV, mate!?

So, in future, if you happen to be near the East Stand on matchdays, and you see The Fart absolutely besieged with little Orientals all trying to get his autograph and clicking their little Nikons like crazy, you?ll know what it?s all about! Oh ? and if any Baggies reading this living in Japan ? yes, I do have quite a few readers in the Far East ? happen to see this footage on one of their domestic channels, do let me know. Or, even better, send me, a tape!

Two. A big ?well done? to West Ham United for making possible every Albion supporter?s wet dream. The Dingles are now below Crewe in the League, and I still can?t stop giggling about it! Bubble-stuff, anyone?

 - Glynis Wright

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