The Diary

20 September 2005: Pre-Bantams Banter.

To be perfectly honest, I?ve absolutely no idea from where that motley collection of Liverpool-based poets and small-time folk musicians ? one of their members, Mike McGear, was a relative of Paul McCartney - got their inspiration for the above piece, but listening to the thing in its entirety, it sounds very much to me like a description of the routine in some sort of dreary institution back in the days when The Poor Law ruled the roost. In fact, the nursery rhyme ?Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush? derives from a Victorian workhouse?s praiseworthy attempts to teach what were then called ?mental defectives? what would now be called ?social skills? (this is the way we wash our face, wash our face, wash our face?.on a cold and frosty morning!? etc.). I can only assume of that Scaffold ditty that if it, too, was originally devised as a means of educating and entertaining the simple-minded, it certainly found its mark with me, and I was still humming the damn thing as I entered our local chemists this morning to pick up fresh supplies of all my pills and potions.

While I was sorting out the lengthy business of paying for all my prescription items, I?d genuinely thought I?d managed to successfully avoid the owner, a genial purveyor of pharmaceuticals known to all and sundry as ?Dev?. He?s also a Baggie, but unable to go all that often because of his pill-rolling commitments, and the reason I was anxious not to let his path cross mine was solely to avoid getting seriously entangled in the throes of debate about what had gone wrong at the club recently; at the time, I was running very late indeed, and still had the bank to sort out. The trouble was, unbeknown to me, he?d been hiding in his little eyrie at the rear of the premises all the while, and upon hearing my voice, immediately darted out, instantly putting into gear an interrogation technique that would have had the Gestapo going green with envy. No pulling-out-of-fingernails or live electrical wires to the gonads involved, ?tis true, but his act was certainly a thorough one.

Unfortunately, what he didn?t know was the fact that I couldn?t tell him all that much about last Saturday?s game, for the simple reason I?d missed most of it! Oh dear, and all that stuff, but I have promised to make up for it by shoving my nose through their door on Thursday morning (can?t make it sooner, as we?re attending Chris?s funeral the day after the Bradford caper) and giving him a Tuesday night update then. I wonder if my efforts will gain me some sort of discount there, eventually? Something on the lines of ?pile ointment ? buy one, get one free!? perhaps? And, should my best efforts to grab buckshee medication fail, perhaps I should then plonk myself right in front of his blasted counter, singing that Scaffold song, all seven verses, one for every day of the week, right up to the one that declares: ?Today?s Sunday, today?s Sunday/ Sunday?s ?Church?? then via each and every activity/meal listed for the previous six days, until he either pleads for mercy, or severe laryngitis supervenes?

Tomorrow evening, of course, sees the return of Robbo?s former club, Bradford City, to The Shrine ? and I?m now getting a funny feeling right in my water that this ain?t going to be no pushover. There?s a distance of two divisions that sunders ?them? from ?us?, of course, but as we all know, Albion?s Cup history, although illustrious in parts, is well littered with banana skins, both League Cup, and its FA equivalent. Theoretically, we should turn them over, no bother, but life on Planet Albion is never quite that straightforward, now, is it?

Of one thing I?m sure, though: we really must start passing the ball better than we did on Saturday. As I said then, from my admittedly limited viewpoint, my overall impression of our style was that of eleven individuals suddenly chucked together from off the street and told to get on with it. Very little in the way of cohesion to be seen, little in the way of flowing moves, and sod-all from an entertainment point of view. Time after time I saw one of our own win the ball either at the back or in the middle, take the sodding thing to the edge of the box, only for the move to break down because very few other players had the gumption to head that way as well, and give the guy some much-needed help and realistic passing options.

Again, it?s basic stuff, problems seasoned professionals should be able to sort out in their sleep ? so why didn?t it happen, then? What I did find breathtaking, though, was Robbo?s post-match comment about team performance, which I quote verbatim here: "That was probably the best we've passed the ball this season, so there were good signs.? My God ? if that?s a prime example of what our leader considered the ?best?, then I?d really hate to be around when the same guys put in what Robbo considers a ?below par? performance! Worrying, or what?

And our options for tomorrow? Bradford are now managed by Colin Todd, of course, but our leader still rates Dean Windass and David Wetherall, who were players there when ?yer man? was in charge. Of one thing we?re sure ? we won?t have the silky services of Zoltan Gera at our disposal. He?s having what?s described as ?minor surgery? to his left hand, so he?ll be sitting this one out, sadly. According to the club website, he managed to break a bone there during our final game versus Pompey last season; this then became infected while doing his thing for Hungary. Hopefully, all that?s involved is cleaning out what remains of the infected muck left inside the dodgy digit. All I can add by way of comment is this: what with that, and all the recent business about ?dehydration?, just what kind of an outfit are the Hungarian national set-up? At least we?re promised a return for the Saturday encounter with The Addicks, thank goodness. Additions to tomorrow?s ?sick list? will be a ?hamstrung? Kanu and the now securely-stabled Horse, still nursing a dodgy fetlock.

Robbo has also threatened to make changes other than those imposed by injury to the side for this one. Could this mean we?ll be seeing an engine-room and strikeforce totally revamped tomorrow, I wonder? Will we also be giving Kirkland a break, and sticking the Pole in goal once more? Will Chaplow and Inamoto get a look-in for once? In the case of the latter, we had one good performance from him at Man City ? then nothing. Dropped like a half-end brick, straight into the metaphorical canal.

As Bradford are one of his former clubs, I?m also wondering whether Big Dave will get the nod tomorrow night ? and if he plays Curtis Davis again, will we be hearing Brummie and Smethwick chants singing the praises of BOTH ?Daves?, ?big? and ?small?? The same principle applies to Ronnie Wallwork, who spent a deal of time on loan there also, I suppose, but from what others told me about his performance on Saturday, I somehow suspect his inclusion on this occasion will not be a popular move with our faithful. But whatever side he puts out tomorrow, the prime consideration has to be getting goals. At the moment, of all our strikeforce, only The Horse, with four to his credit to date, has managed to find the way to the back of the net thus far. Considering the theoretical quality of the ones we?ve signed, perhaps we should be seeing a better return on our investment by now? Following the Pompey success, it?s been two home defeats on the bounce, so if ever there was a good time to rack up a decent win and give casuals some incentive for turning up at the ground next Saturday, then tomorrow night has to be it.

Now here?s a funny thing?.. ?Admission fees are at present exorbitant, and should be reduced. Football has become outrageously costly because the wealthy clubs have set extremely bad examples. Clubs must stop squandering money on ridiculously high-priced transfer fees?..? Media comment apropos current popular perception that the Premiership is a product vastly overpriced, ridiculously over-hyped, and therefore the principal cause of falling gates at that level? Nope ? just a 1923 Sports Argus leader, thereby providing cast-iron proof, as per the old saying, that: ?Everything changes, but nothing changes?!

And finally??Another tale of Baggie woe, here. When you say your prayers before bed (or whatever manner of pre-beddy-byes activity you actively indulge in), spare a thought or two for a supporter called Gavin, known better to all and sundry as ?Jonah?. A highly-appropriate nickname, too, as you?ll discover in a minute.

What happened? Well, the lad?s troubles began very early indeed last Saturday morning. Normally, our chum travels to games courtesy of Black Country Albion, but for reasons I?m unaware of, this time, our hero was late and missed the coach. Sod it, and several other unpleasant thoughts. So, what to do then? Suddenly, a cunning plan swirled to the forefront of the lad?s brain: yes, he had missed Black Country Albion?s departure to Sunderland by a country mile, but being the beer-supping lot they are, they always departed much earlier than the more conventional operators. And that, mused our chum, meant Baggies Travel would still be on the starting-blocks, at the ground.

One quick journey to The Shrine later, and a few equally-quick words with Dave Holloway, the chap in charge, and that was him sorted. Fully paid up, the lad was then told to make his way to his designated coach outside the ground, just about to depart. Heaving a sigh of profound relief at his unexpected deliverance, Gavin quickly found a vacant seat, then settled down for the long journey northwards. Well, that was the theory. Yes, Dave had found a spare seat for the lad all right, but the bad news? You?ve probably guessed by now anyway, but I?ll still spell it out for you, just the same ? the coach was none other than the ill-fated Number Five!

 - Glynis Wright

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