The Diary

24 January 2005: One Small Step For Robbo, One Giant Leap For Prem Survival!

?Dum spiro spero?. ?While I breathe, I hope? is the translation of that one, and how applicable that now seems to our current plight. What an almighty difference that inaugural Premiership win for Robbo and the lads has made to everyone connectd with the club. Sure, as far as visible change to our current Premiership position is concerned, we?re firmly stuck fast to the bottom, still, but we?re only one point behind second-bottom Norwich, and but five in arrears for safety, so despite my recent gloomy prognosis, the fat lady doesn?t necessarily have to commence warming up for that May booking, not just yet. A defeat yesterday would have left us eight behind, and sinking faster than one of Delia?s rare undercooked cheese souffl?s, so there yet remains hope, albeit faint, still, of us actually pulling it off. And that?s the thing, really; that win was so important, if only from the psychological viewpoint. As Robbo said yesterday at his post-match press thingy, we can now use that as a springboard to push on even further.

Individually, there was much we could take succour from in our hour of need. Our never-say-die spirit, for starters. That second one apart, Ronnie Wallwork?s contribution really was outstanding out there; a couple of the Sundays gave him ?man of the match? accolades, and deservedly so, in my opinion. Also impressive was man-mountain Kevin Campbell, who is melding with the rest of the side so quickly, a casual observer might have thought he?d been surgically joined at the hip by Nick Worth, or something. His vast experience at top-level really shows ? and how. It?s a tad disappointing that Earnie isn?t now living up to his previous promise, but as I pointed out yesterday, it might just be the sheer presence of Campbell tends to accentuate what deficiencies he has already.

The thing to remember about Earnie is that when he was with Cardiff, he was a big fish stuck in a pond full of tiddlers; now he?s playing at the highest level this country has to offer, whatever he achieved with the Welsh side does tend to pale into relative insignificance by comparison. In days of yore, SuperBob might well have quietly taken Earnie to one side, then proceeded to share a hefty chunk of his own considerable striking expertise with the heir-apparent to the throne. With that in mind, I?m buoyed up by the thought that Campbell?s considerable presence and experience up front might yet exert a monumental maturing influence on the lad.

As for the rest, Albrechtsen is now well and truly coming into his own, Robinson has of late demonstrated a quantum leap in terms of ability, Greening looks dangerous for most of the time he runs with the ball on the flank, and was dead unlucky not to get on the scoresheet himself yesterday, bloody David James, when denying him with that top-drawer fingertip save of his, actually proving for once he truly deserves to wear that England jersey. Gera? My goodness, what an absolute nuisance he?s proving to be to defenders at this level. And another thought ? fair play to both manager and deputy for managing to pick up group morale from right off the floor following the unfortunate events leading to last Saturday?s Fulham defeat. After that mind-numbing injury-time strike, a good many gaffers would have been sorting out a group booking with The Samaritans by now. It speaks volumes that not only were we able to sort out City yesterday, we actually accomplished what we?d set out to do with not a little skill and panache along the way.

Also pleasing was the sheer intensity and passion of our home support yesterday, the lack of which of late being something I alluded to in a previous instalment. Sustained commitment away from home I now take as read ? you really do need masochistic tendencies taken to a frightening degree to willingly cart yourself hundreds of miles down some godforsaken motorway somewhere, then pay big bucks just to freeze half to death through ninety minutes of complete and utter garbage ? but home expressions of passionate support have been lacklustre affairs of late, comparatively speaking. And, until recently, understandably so; there?s only so much dross the human mind can reasonably assimilate over the course of nine fraught months. That?s why my recent plea for someone out there to pick up where Daz Ward et. al. left off a couple of seasons back.

The point is, now we?ve finally rediscovered the passion, and things seem to be moving in the right direction on the pitch once more, what we have to do now is sustain that level of support off it. In days of yore, the Liverpool Kop more than adequately demonstrated how useful fanatical and intimidating home crowds could be to player-morale; what with that, and their pointed ?THIS IS ANFIELD? notice placed right above the players? tunnel, come five to three, many an opposing performer suddenly discovered their longstanding constipation problems miraculously cured. We?re very much a ?forgotten army? in these corporately-orientated times, but over the coming weeks, it could conceivably be that our Premiership survival might well hinge upon how much lung-power both Brummie and Smethwick can muster and sustain over ninety long minutes.

Following next week?s FA Cup diversion ? a side-show, some might opine, but a win would up the survival momentum no end, make no mistake - after that comes Palace, AJ?s overproductive alter ego and all, then it?s on the road to Carrow Road and Norwich, with Darren Huckerby playing in the starring role for them ? and we all know what defeat there could mean for us, don?t we, kiddiwinkles? The final instalment of what I like to term our ?survival trilogy? comes the Saturday after that, when Southampton, Harry, Jim, plus full supporting cast, come to completely ruin our day for us. They hope.

Not? The lads out there can only do so much; the rest?s up to us providing them with an adrenalin rush of sufficient intensity to make them willing enough to take on the entire US Army, never mind the St. Mary?s variety. Oh, and while I?m on the contentious subject of South Coast football, if you do get the chance, eyeball today?s utterly absorbing Sunday Times sports supplement article about the background story to their bitter rivalry with Pompey. I?ve heard at least one version of the tale already, as related by a local bobby the day we played at Fratton Park, but according to the piece I saw today, there?s lots more theories, some much more plausible than others, and all connected with the fundamental differences between the two great port cities. There?s even one (and rather rude it is, too, so whatever you do, don?t let your maiden aunt grab a glimpse of it!) explaining why those of Pompey affiliation are commonly called ?skates? by some Saints followers of less charitable demeanour, shall we say!

Whether or not we should read anything at all into the fact Chaplow didn?t play for Burnley yesterday, I?m not altogether sure. From what I?ve seen, he was on the bench yesterday, having picked up a knock versus Liverpool earlier in the week. To be honest, he didn?t look all that clobbered to me when I took in some highlights later on, but to be absolutely fair, it?s not unknown for players to run on pure adrenaline during that sort of game; only afterwards do they realise they?ve been playing for the greater part of it with a leg half hanging off, or something. I?m still fairly confident we?ll get him, but it?s going to be a close-run thing, I reckon. Again, it?s all down to ?brinkmanship? ? who?ll blink first, I wonder, Burnley, or us?

The other burning transfer question, of course, but in the opposite direction, surrounds that of Rob Hulse. Scuttlebutt has it the guy watched the Stokies in action yesterday. Could mean he?s on his way out, and as he?s from that area, a move there might well suit him just fine, but as my beloved pointed out over the roast beef and Yorkshire pud earlier today, Stoke aren?t exactly known as The Championship?s best payers, so one can only assume that by joining them, he?d end up taking a massive pay-cut. Not much chance of their going up, either, be it as of right, or via that league?s variation on the National Lottery theme, as they?ve just lost their sixth League game in a row, and all 1-0, apparently.

Sure, he does have one remaining bargaining-chip to lay at the stinky feet of those parsimonious Potters; titter ye not, but he is a Premiership player, if only by virtue of the fact he does now have a handful of first-team appearances for us at that level under his belt. And, taking on the role of defending counsel for once, one might well argue convincingly that since the arrival of Robbo and friend on the scene, on those rare occasions he has turned out for us, whether from the start, or as sub, he?s actually looked at his most dangerous for a very long time indeed, a factor which might well assist in the presentation of his case for suitable remuneration.

Will Stoke City?s great and good natter among themselves at great length, agree to break into that well-battered biscuit-tin of theirs to give the lad what he feels he should be paid, or will it be a simultaneous shake of their greying heads, and them sagely chorusing, ?Nay, lad ? thee ain?t worth spending allus that there good money on thou. We?ve saved all them pennies up in that there tin for years, tha? knowst, and we dustn?t part with t?brass that easily, Rob lad?.?? Or will their board risk inducing massed episodes of coronary heart disease among their keenest followers by chucking the habits of a lifetime, and actually agreeing to flash the cash on this one occasion? Don?t bother asking me; just watch out for newspaper reports of hospitals in the Potteries being absolutely inundated with cardiac casualties over the next week or so.

It was well-hidden among all the rest of the Sunday tabloid scandal-stuff, but today I spotted some very bad news indeed for Hughsie, currently doing a six-year stretch for causing death by dangerous driving, of course. According to the piece I saw, a judge has now ruled there are insufficient grounds for appeal. Because of the sheer brevity of the story, it doesn?t quite cover the full legal background, but, as I see it, the whole sorry saga could still run a while yet. Perhaps some legal eagle or other out there can comment more fully on what I?m about to say, but as I recall court procedure, when an appeal is made against a sentence imposed at Crown Court level, once they?re fully collated, all the papers then go before a single Judge at the Court of Criminal Appeal, which would appear to be the case in this instance.

He/she then looks at all the paperwork, including the trial transcript, and from that, then makes a ruling as to whether or not there?s actual merit to the legal arguments put forward by the appellant?s counsel. In Hughsie?s case, he/she was not looking at the finding of guilt, remember, that?s not the point at issue; everything rests upon whether or not it?s thought the actual sentence passed was excessively harsh. Bear with me further, now, because this is the bit that might have changed since I was last a prison legal aid officer, approximately 14 years ago. As I remember things then, even though someone might have received a knock-back at the ?single judge? stage, they still retained the right of recourse to the Court of Criminal Appeal proper. There was one slight snag, though; to discourage frivolous appeals of little or no legal merit ? and some cons do try to exercise that right simply to get themselves out of the jail for a day or two ? if the full appeal court then convenes a ?proper? hearing i.e. one in public, and with defendant, both barristers, public gallery, Press, the works, in attendance, and the appeal isn?t upheld there either, then there is the very real risk of the judge banging on an additional whack of time for wasting his/hers, not to mention that of the taxpayers.

I don?t rightly know why it was the nationals picked this one up before the local boys did; perhaps they have someone on tap hired specifically to check court lists for hints of forthcoming journalistically-juicy cases, the outcome then being closely monitored, but it will be interesting to see whether or not Hughsie does avail himself of the option I outlined above. I?m not legally qualified myself, but from what I?ve seen of recent case-law surrounding similar offences, and the sentences eventually imposed by trial judges, I?ve gained the overwhelming impression that the six-year one handed down to Lee was considerably longer than some imposed on less well-known people, including some with ?previous? for similar motoring-related crime. On examining more closely the circumstances surrounding each individual case over the last twelve months or so, it seemed to me, sometimes, that when actually committing the offence, some had done considerably more to raise the ire of the trial judge, in my opinion, and yet they?d been given less time than Lee when push finally came to shove. Sentencing consistency? Hardly any, really.

Let me reiterate here once more, this is in no way an apology for what Lee did; the life-shattering ripples surrounding that moment of madness continue to spread across the pond in ever-widening concentric circles, still; not so long ago, it came to my notice that Mrs. Graham, the wife of the person who lost his life that Saturday night, passed away herself last December. Not directly attributable to Lee, of course, but undoubtedly part of the flotsam and jetsam of human misery surrounding what happened; friends said she never quite got over the tragic loss of her husband that night, and how can you ever possibly quantify feelings like that?

And finally?. First of all it was Ronnie Wallwork getting a totally-unrequited (not to mention highly-inventive, and bloody hilarious, with it) choral accolade courtesy of our followers, and now it?s Kevin Campbell. You know you?ve really arrived when you get your own special Hawthorns chant, and Kev?s is the one formerly owned by Albion legend SuperBob, no less. It well and truly made its debut Hawthorns appearance yesterday; insofar as the question still remains as to whether or not it will still ?chart? come May, my personal jury?s still out on that one!

 - Glynis Wright

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