The Diary

18 January 2006: Albion, Reading, Leeds, Wigan, Stoke And Tamworth - Total Football!

It?s not been easy, tonight, trying to divide myself into several small pieces, one third of which was (in mind, if not body) at the Madjeski, once we?d heard we?d gone two goals up, that was, another third watching Leeds-Wigan live on the box, and yet another third trying to keep tabs on the Tamworth-Stoke game being broadcast on WM, with occasional returns to the Madjesky for an update. It?s not easy trying to simultaneously keep tabs on all three, especially as our game kicked off 15 minutes later than the rest, and when two of the three went to penalties, and at similar times, it just got plain silly.

What did surprise me, though, were Sky; throughout the Leeds-Wigan caper, they seemed somewhat tardy in getting updates on everyone else. The first I knew about our lot going two in front was when The Fart rang about halfway through the first half of the game on the box; at that time, we?d only just learned of the first goal via a quick bottom-of-screen newsflash. ?Yeah, I know, Tel,? said I, ?We?re one in front, aren?t we??

?Er no ? it?s TWO actually,? was the astonishing reply, ?and Ellington and Chaplow got them?..? Blimey. As things turned out, we didn?t get to see the correct score on our screens until half-time, and, as it quickly transpired, Chaplow was credited with both. It wasn?t just our game, either; via the miracle of steam radio, we learned of goals scored in other games much more quickly than Murdoch?s lot could ever hope to get them on screen, and that really surprised me; their big boast tonight was the fact they had cameras at every single ground where Cup issues were being decided. Why the hell they still couldn?t properly keep up with the flow is an eternal mystery to me, but there you go.

Another real unknown allied to tonight?s events is precisely how we managed to go two goals into the lead in the first place. Certainly, when I perused tonight?s line-up, there were an awful lot of youthful faces I?d never seen before gracing our first-team ranks. A case of having to, of course, following our Sunday win over the side playing at Elland Road tonight. Our Sabbath exertions at the JJB meant that in addition to those already ruled out of the running for tonight?s game, we?d had to find someone to deputise for the knackered Steve Watson, and quick. Take a bow, then, 19 year old defender Jared Hodgkiss, an Academy product: let?s hope that?s the lad?s first appearance of many in the sacred blue and white striped shirt.

Our mounting injury problems elsewhere also meant much hasty re-jigging of players with considerably more senior-level experience; as I?d guessed, Kirkland was drafted in to give The Pole In Goal a well-deserved night off, Albrechtsen filled in for the suspended Big Dave in central defence, Richard Chaplow ended up in midfield, and Darren Carter deputising for the similarly-knackered Paul Robinson. Earnie also got his chance to show what he could do, courtesy his first start at that level for a pretty long time. Well, tonight was his big chance to shine, prove to Robson he could do a job out there, either for us, or someone else ? and he blew it.

Youth was also given its head on the bench - a case of having to, I suppose - so a big Baggie hand to Rob Elvins, Stuart Nicholson, and Rob Davies, all of whom also found themselves getting an unexpected taste of first-team squad life tonight. Mind you, Steve Coppell was also experiencing similar problems, according to the club?s team news; they?d had to make no less than seven changes to their normal line-up tonight, a move which more or less guaranteed the Madjeski crowd not so much a sparkling example of the beautiful game at its very best, a Western Front ?war of attrition? job, more likely.

I?m not going to dwell too much on the game itself, largely because I can?t really say very much about a football fixture I didn?t directly see. As I?d intimated earlier, such had been the tremendous drain on our playing resources of late, I fully expected Reading to sort us out in no time flat, hence my considerable surprise when The Fart made that phone call telling us we were in front. At that time, I was dead relaxed over the entire thing; keep that score the same until the final whistle, I thought, and we?d progress to Round Four without too much in the way of hassle, and not too many tired legs out there afterwards.

The problem was slightly more complicated than had first been anticipated, sadly; this was West Bromwich Albion we were discussing, remember, a side, even at the best of times, with all the defensive stability of a New Orleans levee right after a severe tropical storm. Not long after the restart ? because of that 8.00 kick-off, events were filtering through very slowly indeed ? word finally reached us Reading had pulled one back. Not that I was too surprised, mind; their current league form, was gained courtesy a strike-force considered one of the most powerful in the First Division, was why they were currently running away with the title, with everyone else following miserably in their wake, and trying to salvage at least some half-decent crumbs from beneath the master?s table. The lad Lita ? who, presumably, is no half-pint ? netted that first, then much later went on to complete his hat-trick. His second, apparently, was an almighty screamer of a shot that would have given Gordon Banks more than a little trouble, never mind Kirkland.

So extra time it was, then. I?m willing to bet there wasn?t half a lot of cussing coming from our bench when that whistle blew for the end of the normal ration. It?s bad enough finding enough players considered capable of lasting out for the normal ninety, never mind finding those capable of going the whole distance, penalties included. And what other problems would this strength-sapping encounter throw up on our Baggie foreshore? There was still a Premiership programme to think about, and although The Mackems are generally considered the greed league?s equivalent of dead men walking those days, the need for us to successfully consign them to the dustbin of history next Saturday was paramount.

I?d taken the opportunity of grabbing a hasty visit to our smallest room while the Leeds-Wigan game paused for its very own extra-time 15 minute-interval, and it was while I was otherwise engaged upstairs Reading managed to grab their third, courtesy that man Lita once more. Story of my life, that. The opposition scoring while I?m ? erm ? ?powdering my nose?, I mean, not Lita. Oh, well ? at least we didn?t have to suffer penalties, which was just as well, perhaps. But should our injury-status not improve significantly over the next few days, God knows what sort of side we?ll be fielding versus Sunderland next Saturday.

Mind you, as far as the other games were concerned, tonight was certainly one of high drama. The televised one was Leeds-Wigan, which because of the radio being on, we followed with the sound off for the most part; not that it detracted significantly from our enjoyment of the game too much. Every time there were developments at the Madjeski, WM informed us in its own inimitable style, with that ancient car horn-thingy of theirs. Their broadcast commentary was nothing to do with any of the big boys playing tonight, they were committed to Tamworth-Stoke, at The Lamb.

That lot, they might be part-timers, but they still managed to take the lead early on, and what?s more, clung on to it grimly until there was but ten minutes more left on the clock. That was when our chums from the Potteries finally managed to save themselves from complete embarrassment with a superlative answering strike that took the whole affair to extra time and penalties Oh ? and another vagrant thought about Stoke and all their followers, it was only when they got the equaliser their followers started chatting in their normal whining fashion again.

And fair play to Tamworth. I thought they?d get steamrollered over the course of the penalty shoot-out, but they most certainly weren?t. in fact, it was the Potteries club that lost their nerve first, missing on around the third or fourth one. A shame Tamworth couldn?t have put paid to their has there and then, but when the time came for them to show coolness with their spot-kick, their nerves finally got the better of them; after that, Stoke found their final effort a formality.

As I said earlier, while all that was going on elsewhere, we had the Wigan replay going on the box. What a right ding-dong that one proved to be, the lead changing hands more times during the course of the entire 90 minutes plus extra time than a Soho dirty-movie patron operating under both cover of darkness and a dirty raincoat. I?ll bet Wigan really loved it when their game headed into that unexpectedly-irritating coda for them; in some ways; their injury problems seem much, more serious than any of ours in the long run.

Earlier today, though, on my usual ?shopping tour? of Bearwood High Street; I found myself meeting up with Albion supporters left, right and centre, and all wanting to know more about The Pole In Goal?s magnificent showing at Wigan. My first pit-stop was in our chemists; not wanting to strike up a clucky conversation with our tame pharmaceutical purveyor right there and then, I moved swiftly on to yet another destination, The Bluenose Butcher, but his style proved particularly difficult for me to shake off as well. Dearie me, everyone wanted to know about The Pole In Goal, and what he achieved just a couple of days ago.

The saddest tale of all proved to be nothing to do with football, more a case of the owner of our newspaper shop being the victim of what, for me, was an all-time criminological ?first?. The moment I realised something was not what it should be was when I entered his den of iniquity at around ten this morning. Normally, if you go around that time, just about every paper, periodical or magazine you could possibly want will be there awaiting your pleasure ? but not to day, it would seem. The shelves were remarkably bare, for once, totally-denuded of the wondrous verbal riches they normally carried. It could have been a simple case of ojnhe news item in particular having a large local interest and punters buying up copies like billy-ho. Just like the day after we secured our Premiership status at the end of last season, in fact.

Obviously, I had to ask the question: ?Has there been a run on the papers today, or something, mate??

The truth was somewhat more bizarre. It turned out that our friendly shop owner was in the habit of arriving on the premises after the wholesaler had made his normal delivery for the day, and very early in the morning, of course. Once those bundles were out of that van, there they stayed on the pavement by the shop door until our hero opened up. At that disgusting hour of day, there?s normally not a problem, but on this occasion, for reasons best known to themselves, someone, or several someones, had got there first. According to the owner, they?d made of with around ?1,000 worth of stock; even as I nattered to him, someone from (I think) the law turned up to take a statement or something.

Over the course of many years, I?ve heard of some pretty wacky crimes being committed, up to and including an attempt by some nuclear protesters to derail a train making its way from Oldbury On Severn nuclear power station, near Bristol, to the Sellafield waste facility, near Cumbria, and a somewhat mentally-disordered young lady offering to do a complete striptease on Weston Beach for a hot dog, but this one had to be a ?first? for me. But as I looked upon those bare shelves once more, something else rather odd struck me. Whoever had perpetrated the foul deed in the first place, they?d been pretty selective about it, because the only papers that hadn?t gone ?walkabouts? were Murdoch titles i.e. The Sun and The Times.

That would suggest one of two things. The first? Whoever had lifted the others, they didn?t think an awful lot of the sordid subject-matter carried within the confines of both publications, which was why they were left behind in the first place ? they were thieves with a bit of class about them. The second? Ooer. Conspiracy-theory alert warning, folks. All the others were half-inched solely to give both titles, currently showing signs of imminent circulatory collapse in the ratings, a clear run at all the shop?s custom that day!

And Finally?.. Not a terribly good night for us, I?m afraid, but at least one Ceefax headline put the smile back on my delicate little phizzog afterwards: ?Charlton Complete Bent Transfer? Blimey, I knew there were rumours aplenty about the brown-envelope culture gradually infesting our game once more, but it was a bit brazen of the Londoners to be so frank about it, methinks!

 - Glynis Wright

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