The Diary

08 March 2005: Albion Might, Bluenose Blight.

Ooh, it was jolly good to journey into town today buoyed up by the knowledge we?d managed to grab three points at the expense of our wonderfully-underachieving neighbours. The only discernable fly in the ointment was the sad fact I couldn?t perform the one duty that was uppermost in my mind after yesterday?s win ? his place is closed on Mondays, sadly - and just to give you an opportunity to share in the fun, here it is. If there?s one thing I?m going to do once I?ve picked up those Villa tickets tomorrow, it?s to travel one further stop on the return bus than usual, and give the Bluenose Butcher the biggest seeing-to he?s had in a long time, and what?s more, I?ll take great delight in doing so. In terms of abuse laid on with a trowel, of course; whatever else did you think I meant? Ooh, some of you do have naughty minds, sometimes. So, Paul South (for it is he, big chopper and all!), if you?re reading this, just to let you know I?m a-comin? to get yer, and if I were you, mate, I?d lock yourself in your own meat-fridge until closing-time.

It?s going to be a slightly bigger ticket transaction than usual tomorrow because Steve The Miser, aka West Bromwich?s answer to Shylock, wants a ticket also, which will give the old credit card a bit more of a battering than usual ? but what the hell. Talking about Steve and his long-term policy of fiscal prudence taken to a terrifying degree, I?m now given to understand that recently, The Noise found himself owing Steve a tenner ? but not for long, I?m reliably informed! As we?ll all be sitting together for this one, I?m sure our financial guru will waste no time before passing on a few handy tips on income-maximisation ? like, er, ?don?t spend any?? ? to our Potteries co-editor, sagging horribly under the considerable monetary weight of a missus and two girls, one of them teenage, and the not-inconsiderable expenditure that goes with such a varied family profile.

But back to yesterday, and its most satisfactory conclusion. For us, that was, not ?them?. There was certainly a gigantic outpouring of anguished Bluenose rhetoric and bile on local radio afterwards ? made the tediously-slow journey to the bottom of Brasshouse Lane quite entertaining, it did ? and it?s still going on now. Oh dear, how sad, what a pity ? never mind. But surely, when they ponder upon events in the cold light of day, they can?t realistically harbour lingering gripes, can they? Forget relative League positions; the best side won in a canter, in what has to be the equivalent of an astronomical event over the course of our lamentable Premiership history, justice was actually done. Well done, chaps, I was bloody proud of you out there.

Outstanding performances? Well, The Horse is certainly a candidate. As I pointed out yesterday, Robbo?s (contentious: apparently, Earnie?s agent was making depreciatory noises via the Press this weekend) decision to give the Halifax bricklayer a start at the expense of the young upstart turned out to be spot-on. Up for it? Not half; the casual observer would have thought the club had locked our equine in a cellar somewhere and had fed him naught but raw meat and constant anti-Bluenose abuse over the course of the preceding seven days. Not the fastest pair of legs in town, you have to admit, and The Horse himself would be the first to agree, I reckon, but his display yesterday was an object-lesson in how strikers lacking pace can put old tricks to good use, and how a case for first-team billing can be made with pride and dignity. Easily one of the best performances he?s ever put in for us ? although had he been required to deputise for Houlty, as per the plan should the former?s back complaint deteriorate during the course of the game - er, I?m still not quite convinced about that one!

The Mighty Zoltan? He, too, more than earned his coin yesterday, and thanks to that tremendous ?never say die? attitude of his, paved the way for Campbell?s second. Most players would have let that ball run for a goal-kick and be done with it ? but not our lad. And he was unlucky not to get on the score-sheet himself. With someone with that sort of positive outlook on your side, you?ve got a tremendous bonus on your hands. His is truly a fairy-tale background; even the TV people couldn?t make it up. The problem is, though, once we?re relegated, there?ll be no ?happy-ever-after? of his considerable skills and talents then inspiring a truly amazing third promotion. With some of the Premiership?s lesser-lights already stropping their claws, I really can?t see us retaining him. Everyone?s got their price. Enjoy him while we may; he won?t be ours for long.

As far as Kevin Campbell goes, compared to the sheer intensity of the Merseyside annual-bloodletting, our local derbies must be something of a ?ho hum? thing for him. But that didn?t prevent him getting stuck in when it really mattered, and scoring that psychologically-vital second. I?m sure there?s been a fair bit of a mental barrier surrounding our continuing inability to widen a lead to the footballing equivalent of a mighty chasm, but now we?ve gone and done it, let?s hope we don?t irretrievably lose our latest newly-acquired skill once more. A bit disappointing, though, were those two missed copper-bottomed-cert, nailed-on headed goals; for someone of Our Kev?s extensive Premiership experience, that sort of chance he should have buried in his sleep.

And what about Richardson? With every first-team game he plays for us, he?s maturing, and in similar manner to vintage champagne ? gently, sumptuously. Yesterday?s showing was of stellar quality; you only have to watch those little flicks and lay-offs of his to realise we?re truly in the presence of future greatness. If only Fergie could succumb to a terminal dose of altruism, and turn the loan deal into a permanent one, us Baggies would be Manc followers for life. In our dreams, baby, in our dreams. And the bright red boots weren?t bad either! A basketful of additional luck, and Blues would have left The Hawthorns painfully ruing the moment they first clapped eyes on him.

Of one thing I?m sure, though; after chucking his shirt into the crowd as he was subbed, a few pointed post-match words from our bean-counter tendency, and that?s a mistake he won?t be making for a very long time! I?ve also remembered I should have mentioned it last night, and didn?t, so ?nul Brownie points? for me as well. Oh, and another thought apropos the shirt-slinging; it seemed to me the article in question landed right in the front row of The Halfords, and more or less directly in line with where I sit, about seven rows back. If so, the lucky lad landing it could well be none other than BBC Hereford And Worcester broadcaster Malcolm Boyden, who sits with his small son plumb-spang in the middle of the drop-zone!

Clem? He?s also starting to come into his own in a way I?d never expected to see under our former manager. The switch to what is essentially a centre-half spot seemed to have been most beneficial in his case, and the result has been a stratospheric improvement in form. Were his dad alive, still, he would have been proud to witness his outstanding performance yesterday. That headed goal of his was top-notch, and he should have done better with another one much earlier. Typical Bluenoses ? always where they?re not wanted, and forever getting in the way!

One swallow does not a summer make, though, and neither does a local derby win, even one so richly deserved as yesterday?s. The odds are massively against us avoiding the drop, still, and I really can?t see the bookies changing significantly the most recent odds I saw apropos of us plummeting, which stood at an astonishing 25-1 ON last Saturday. Our next game is at Chelski, the chilling prospect of which should bring everyone down to Earth with an almighty bump. If we get as little as a point from going there next week, it?s the perfect excuse for cracking open a bottle (or three!) of vintage champagne on the way back. And that, may I remind all those getting somewhat more carried away than they originally intended, is what constitutes that much-vaunted ?game in hand? of ours!

Realistically, with about ten left to play, and five points to make up, we?d need to win around half of those to send chins a-crashing throughout the length and breadth of this fabled isle ? and to be brutally honest, I just don?t see where the three-pointers are going to come from. And that?s assuming our other rivals throw in the towel. Not feasible, I?m afraid. But, having said that reminds me of a conversation I had with ?Im Indoors when scooting in the direction of West Bromwich earlier tonight, and on precisely the same lines. ?Think of the unlikely, the downright impossible, and our lot will do it every time!? I said, and how true that statement has proved in recent times.

I?m thinking right now of a similarly-Herculean task our favourite football club was set approximately three seasons ago. We were ten (and at one stage, no less than eleven) points behind those rampant Dingles, who occupied that coveted second promotion slot, and on the face of it, any prospect of us overtaking them read more like someone?s idea of a sick joke to our followers than an accurate forecast of our finish to the season. And around the same time of year, too, if I recall events correctly. After a particularly disappointing midweek reverse at Preston, we started winning games, lots of them, suddenly; an unexpected development that rapidly resulted in our local rivals looking somewhat anxiously over their calloused shoulders. Much to our amusement, they then completely bottled it. The rest we all know, so yes ? it can be done, but such a delightful combination of luck and favourable circumstances only comes around as often, say, as a transit of Venus ? and I don?t mean the ex-Dingle, either.

Get a point at Chelski, grab something at The Valley (unlikely, given our recent track record versus the London mob, and them needing the points to grab a European slot ), and totally ruin Doug Ellis?s day, then we might just have a completely new ball game going out there. As I said, realistically, it?s five three-pointers we need to put us back in business. But, don?t forget, we also have yet to engage in mortal combat with Everton, who have Champions League aspirations of their own, and Blackburn. Unlikely, I?ll admit, but it?s conceivable that there is a slight danger of the latter getting sucked into the relegation dogfight as well. Spurs and Boro aren?t going to make things easy for us, and as for the last two before we round off the current campaign with the visit of Pompey ? The Arse, at home, then Man Urinal, away ? I really can?t see either manager wanting to dole out largesse to Premiership lame-ducks, especially if there?s something on the game. Can you?

Tomorrow, it?s off to Hereford once more, and the day after, it?s a GD visit to Kidderminster WBASC branch, of which I now have more details. Kick-off?s at eight, as per usual, and the guests are, hopefully, Dan Ashworth, Michael Appleton, and Shakey, all members of the coaching team responsible for the kids. I?m also reliably informed that they?ll be bringing several of their young charges with them, a carefully-controlled exposure to supporters which will no doubt stand them in good stead should they go on to make the grade, whether at Albion, or elsewhere. The venue?s Kiddy Cricket Club, and there will be buffet-style eats laid on in quantity, no doubt. I?ll be reporting back once they?ve finished, so expect to see me back on these pages in two days time.

Oh ? and another thing. I?ve now received brief details of what was said at the recent Sutton Branch meeting, at which Tommy Gaardsoe was the guest. Aw, you know - the one we couldn?t attend because of my other half?s gammy finger? As soon as I?ve obtained the necessary permission from their committee, and assuming there?s no confidentiality issues involved, I?ll be putting the synopsis of that out, and very soon indeed.

And finally?? A survey? About the increasing use of bad language during football matches? In WOLVERHAMPTON town centre, of all places? You?re ?avin? a larf!

 - Glynis Wright

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