The Diary

17 April 2006: An Easter Monday Drink In The Last Chance Saloon?

Somehow, I?m gradually getting the gut feeling this week isn?t exactly going to be one of the best I?ve ever had in over fifty years (almost!) blameless existence on this planet. For starters, one of my mogs is rather poorly, and I?m genuinely anticipating the worst. Albion?s current plight is also a concern, of course; despite what our manager is saying in public about needing to win our last two homes to stand even a microscopic chance of catching Pompey, what does get my goat about this are his po-faced continual assertions we can actually stem the flow and succeed at the very last gasp. And an unshakeable conviction, almost, that to not show belief in our ability to get out of it would be an admission of terminally stupid proportions these days.

If that really is Bryan?s genuine belief, all I can do tomorrow is shake my head despairingly, then repeat my late mother?s favourite Black Country riposte to similarly-deluded fantasy-merchants patronising her pub, and trying to talk her into joining various get-rich-quick schemes: ?Yow must be cowin? yampy, yow ? yow ay all theer, ma mon. Goo wum afower thay lock yer up in St. Margarets? (local long-term mental institution, much feared in less-enlightened times, now permanently closed, thankfully)?.? Don?t understand? Talk to me nicely, and I might even be able to fix you up with the services of an interpreter for the duration of the game. No small wonder, then, the mental image of Der Fuhrer, trapped in his Berlin bunker circa April 1945, and still trying to move around army divisions either long since comprehensively trashed, or safely locked up behind barbed wire, springs so readily to mind, every single time Bryan chooses to poke his head above the parapet in this ridiculous way.

Before yesterday, I might have grudgingly conceded there was a viable exit strategy in place, but not any more ? and certainly not once Pompey sorted Boro. Poor consolation, I know, but am I right in thinking the Teesside club travelled to Pompey on Saturday several Smog Monsters short of a pollution problem? A weakened side, in effect, which shouldn?t come as too great a surprise, considering their continual involvement in Europe. No good crying over spilt toxic organic chemicals, though; if you can?t grab the points, you won?t stay up, end of story.

With every passing day, it?s looking more and more likely we?ll be joined on the downwards plunge by our Small Heath neighbours, who managed to lose to the Witton Road persuasion by quite a hefty margin (3-1) earlier today. Bucked the trend significantly, that; as I recall past encounters with their inner-city chums, ever since Blues first came up, in fact, they?ve generally emerged on the winning side, and in embarrassing fashion every single time, too, the claret-and-spew weak link tending to be found in the goalkeeping department, more often than not.

As I said the other night, I genuinely feel that once we're down there again, it's going to take something pretty cataclysmic to propel us back to the top once more. Probably need football?s equivalent of the Space Shuttle to do it properly, I reckon. Getting kicked out of the Prem is a bit like being on a spacecraft that's somehow blundered into the massive gravitational well created by a black hole. Once you're in there and stuck fast, it's the Devil's own job to get yourself out of it again. Mind you, looking at the godawful way top-level football's going these days, that might not necessarily be such a bad thing, really.

Another small consolation for having to leave The Land Of Milk And Honey might well lie in the fact that come next term, The Championship will harbour in its ranks more than a goodly share of Midlands-based (ish!) performers. Let?s see, now: assuming we do drop, and Blues, too, we?ll then have fixtures versus The Dingles; Stoke; Coventry and Leicester to drool over. Derby, too, assuming they can not only stay up, but also fend off what appears to be a pretty serious financial crisis out there. A real long shot, assuming they qualify for, and get past the play-offs, might be our old chums Forest, now a GM-free zone, and currently cookin? on gas, too. Tucked nicely into 7th place, they are, with that late, late surge of theirs; previous form would suggest that the side that gets into the competition on the back of a bloody good last-few-weeks winning streak ? West Ham, Palace, both upwardly-mobile just a couple of seasons ago, are a couple who readily spring to mind ? goes on to get to the final, at the very least.

In my opening paragraph yesterday, I intimated that I?d probably be getting some sort of communique from The Fart once he?d been disgorged from that newly-returned coach of his ? but I didn?t, which I?d thought odd at that time. Normally, when we get on the receiving end of a tanking on someone else?s piece of real-estate (yes, I know The Arse didn?t rack up a cricket score against us yesterday, but they could have quite easily done so, from what I?ve read in the scandal sheets) then The Fart dutifully rings me, and lets me know what?s gone wrong. It?s at times like these, the angst level gets to be quite overwhelming.

But not last night ? and now I?ve found out why. Apparently, our wrinkly chum tried getting me by phone several times yesterday evening, but could only get the ?engaged? tone every time he put receiver to lughole. Strange, that ? but, after testing the line by ringing our house on my mobile, and getting the blasted thing to ring, first time, every time, I?m still no further forward in solving the mystery! Could it be as simple as the fact that just about everything electronic The Fart possesses quietly slips into a timewarp all of its own, a bit like that World War 2 British submarine David Jason ended up commanding in that TV play last week? Long experience has since taught me that Tel exerts quite a spooky effect on electronic equipment, the like of which can only be surpassed by that caused through entry into The Bermuda Triangle, so why am I so surprised?

Anyway, when he did get in touch, a few things immediately became much clearer. Oh ? and as the coaches parked up outside the Gunners? new home this time round, more than a few of our travelling band took the opportunity of gawping mightily at the enormous construction set right in front of them. According to our chum, their new home is about as far ahead of our own as modern antiseptic procedures are to pre-19th century ?foul air? germ theory. Light years in front, and heading for Alpha Centauri at a rate of knots. Just thinking about trying to compete with that sort of thing is a complete non-starter for the likes of us, sadly. According to Tel, also jaw-dropping is the top price for a season ticket in the new place - ?19K. Yes, that?s right ? 19K. Grab a bit of the right sort of market, be prepared to put in a lot of hard graft getting the place right, and it?s still - just about - possible to find houses on the market cheaper than that. Their projected income from the new place will also rise exponentially, apparently, from the present ?33 million, to a completely mind-blowing ?70 million once The Emirates is ready to do business.

To be fair, Tel did take great care to emphasise the positives about our performance yesterday ? spirit, grit, dashed bad luck with that late penalty shout, tenacity, all of which are admirable, of course ? but, as he emphasised, the nub of the problem was that the likes of Arsenal have now evolved into something much mightier than we can ever be. A good analogy might be the September 1939 Polish Army trying to fight advancing Panzer divisions with naught save endless mounted cavalry charges. Much can be said about them that?s applicable to yesterday?s performance, of course, but the bottom line still remains. It clearly ain?t a fair contest, never was, never could be.

And tomorrow we?ve got to do it all over again, this time at home, and with Sam Allardyce?s Bolton the invited guests in attendance that same evening. This is going to be the second part of a ?double-header? for us, as we?re attending a game at Edgar Street first, Hereford United taking on Tamworth, who will almost certainly have a currently out-of-form Supes playing for them up front. Another ex-Albionite, Carl Heggs, should have been occupying the starring role for Tamworth instead, but he very recently broke a bone in his hand, so won?t be fit for this one. At first, I couldn?t understand this; it has been known for players with this sort of injury to turn out for a side, provided the break is well-protected by a lightweight cast, but then it occurred to me that the problem might well be that the fracture wasn?t such a simple one after all.

Still, it?ll be good to see Bob doing what he really loves once more; after the various problems he experienced earlier this season, I?d honestly thought that his playing days were well and truly numbered ? but not so, it would seem. There?s life in the old dog yet, thank goodness ? and with Hereford now more or less assured of a play-off place, largely thanks to their unexpected away win this weekend, the pressure to perform will be completely lifted from the home side. With any luck, Tamworth might just manage to sneak a result.

Once the final whistle goes, however, that?s when the fun really starts for us. Hereford United are about the only club at that level blessed with an enormous car park situated right next to their place. It belongs to the local council really, and it?s normally a ?pay and display? jobbie (but not on Bank Holidays, curiously enough), but the real beauty of the place is that it?s so easy to get out of once the game?s finished. Once on the main drag again, a straight run takes you right out of the town, and onto the main Hereford-Worcester road. Get onto the ring road surrounding that city, and it?s a piece of the proverbial to pick up the northbound M5 once more.

Provided we?re not held up unduly by locals deciding on the spur of the moment to take their spanking-new tractor for a quick Easter Monday test-drive, then we should be in the vicinity of Planet Albion within about an hour and a half of the Edgar Street final whistle. More than enough time to breeze into the place well before kick-off, I reckon. So rarely do the respective paths of both clubs cross, it?s been quite some time since we last tried to pull off this particular ?shuttlebus? stunt.

In fact, you have to go as far back as 1993, Ossie Ardiles, and the day we lost at home to Plymouth Argyle, and by a horrendous margin, too, if my memory serves me correctly. Sadly, the Hereford score completely eludes me, but suffice to say, we?re going to give this double-header malarkey our best shot. Or, all you intestinally-challenged folkies out there, should my last now read ?best shi????

For what it?s worth, Bolton are currently experiencing a terrible loss of form. Their last win was versus Sunderland in February ? yes, I know, everybody beats the Mackems, bar us ? but since then, their fortunes have truly crashed and burned. They did harbour very strong hopes of qualifying for Europe at one point, but they?d be pretty lucky to manage that right now, given the awful sort of run they?ve had of late. If it?s any sort of consolation, even hitting a barn door at twelve paces is proving problematical for them right now; incredibly, they?ve gone an astonishing 334 minutes since last scoring a goal at this level.

Team news? The Trotters won?t be enjoying the services of one Tal Ben Haim tomorrow. The Israeli was sent for an early bath after being shown two yellow cards at Stamford Bridge on Saturday, so will be playing ?wallflower? during the course of this ?relegation quickstep?. Either Nicky Hunt or Joey O?Brien will get the Allardyce Imperial Nod instead. It would also seem that our former player, being pragmatic as usual, fielded a weakened side on Saturday, so expect Stelios, El Hadji Diouf and Jay Jay Ococha to return to the land of the living once more.

As for our lot, Ronnie Wallwork will be sitting this one out, through suspension. Perhaps both he and Ben Haim might care to keep each other company in the stand, swop tales of bookings? The Duke is still a doubt with that gammy foot of his, so we might be deprived of his services as well. Talking of Wallwork, in today?s Sun, he says Albion need a ?bolt out of the blue? to beat the drop. Also, stating the bleeding obvious, he reckons our game is yet another ?must-win?. Oh dear ? I?m getting a terrible feeling of d?j? vu all of a sudden! Oh ? and remember what I was saying about the vultures circling the other day? Suddenly, a newly-resurgent Pompey are speculating as to whether or not to come in for Joe Kamara once we?ve gone down the gurgle. Cheeky gits: the trouble is, though, once the dust?s finally settled on season 05-06, you?ll most certainly be able to tack the word ?survived? onto that brusque yet brief pen-picture of mine!

Oh - and yet another vagrant thought to zap you all with. Now Warnock's finally got to see his very own wet dream come true, will he do a Megson - completely fail to adapt to the more demanding managerial qualities and techniques necessary for success at this level - or will he survive by the skin of his teeth that vitally-important first season, then go on to evolve as a Premiership manager, in much the same way as former Baggie Sam Allardyce did with Bolton? Not so easy a judgment call to make as you first thought, is it? Mind you, when interviewed in the Mirror the other day, cuddly Neil did list our former leader as one of the game's managerial characters he just couldn't abide for love nor money!

And finally?..One. Remember me telling you all about ?Im Indoors?s visit to Gornal FC yesterday? What my other half also told me ? and I?d completely forgotten to mention as part of last night?s account of the problem ? was a pretty rare astronomical phenomenon experienced at that level, which is West Midlands League, a player actually caught ?diving?, and being booked for his sins, too. About as rare an occurrence as a member of the Royal Family actually offering to pay their own way, for once, and equally as noteworthy!

Two. Back to The Fart once more, and that lengthy trip he took ?to The Smoke?. On the way back, as is normal with these things, a collection took place for the driver, to which just about everyone on the coach contributed. The money raised, quite a substantial sum was then handed over to their chauffeur, who promptly used the PA system to express his thanks. By way of passing, he happened to mention the fact he was due to take some Dingles to (I think) Preston come Easter Monday ? but the extent of their generosity would be nowhere near ours, so he said!

 - Glynis Wright

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