The Diary

31 August 2003: A Ram-Raid? Nope, More A Smash-And-Grab!

Top of the League, Ma? We sure are, which is, of course, an advantageous position to be in at this stage of the game ? the first time since the days of the late Ray Harford if my memory serves me correctly ? but today?s historic victory over poor Derby gave me no pleasure whatsoever. I prefer to think of it in terms of mugging my granny for a fiver; there?s fleeting pleasure to be had, to be sure, but for the home supporters it just might prove to be yet another nail in their coffin. The reason why we discovered shortly before the game, when we were handed a leaflet printed by an organisation calling itself the ?Rams Trust?, a Derby supporters? lobbying-group.

According to them, the club is 30 million quid in debt, and around 90% of it is owed to the Co-operative Bank. This deficit, of course, attracts a huge amount of interest, which is currently clocking up at a stonking ten grand a day ? and that?s before they even begin to think about clearing the debt proper. In essence, the problem is the chairman wants to sell the club, and there are, allegedly, investors waiting in the wings. The sticking-point? The bank. If the club goes into administration, they get a reduced return on their loan- about 10p in the pound, so they?re sitting tight on the say-so, and in the meantime, the club goes down the Swannee. That?s the essence of this supporters? group?s argument, and they?re now asking people to bombard the bank with letters of protest. Couldn?t happen to us? Well, just think back to three and a bit seasons ago; we were losing money hand over fist, the bank was threatening to call in our overdraft, boardroom turmoil threatened to rip the club apart, we?d just sold Kilbane to Sunderland primarily because of the aforementioned financial problems, the club was sliding down the table quicker than a drunkard caught up in a Cresta run ? and we headed up to Grimsby for a midweek match just before Christmas, only to see us scrape a 1-1 draw in freezing weather. Oh, and Brian Little was manager. We?ve come a long, long way since then ? but that only serves to illustrate just how rapidly fortunes can change in the game. Sure, enjoy the win, but while you do, think on for a minute about how a once-proud football club can so quickly be reduced to putting out the metaphorical begging-bowl.

So what else did the Dick Away Team get up to today? Well, not a lot, really, as the journey was, comparatively speaking, to somewhere in our own back-yard, almost. A rare chance for The Fart, ?Im Indoors, and myself to travel without aural assistance (hindrance?) from the in-car entertainment, commonly known as The Noise. Easy-peasy from Stoke, you see; much simpler to meet up with us at the ground, which is what we did. Prior to that, though, we thoroughly wetted our collective clacks in The Brunswick pub. No, not the one in Wednesbury; this one?s within whistling-distance of Derby Midland Station, and is that glory of glories, a ?proper? real-ale pub. Not surprisingly, beer-loving Baggies were drawn to the place like a moth to a flame. Al The Phantom Piddler was duly spotted there ? just before he toddled off to yet another hostelry. A strange place to be, really; the interior is a predominantly chocolate brown, frowsty-looking, with little nooks and crannies abutting a central thoroughfare ? think ?old fashioned corridor trains? and you?ve just about got it. The bar, however, was fairly large; a proper ?spit-and-sawdust? place, complete with threadbare bits of carpet, genuine wrought-iron circular pub tables, gorgeous leather upholstery, and atop the seats, a splendid display of beer-bottles both past and present. And, totally in keeping with its railway links, a somewhat ancient-looking collection of black and white prints depicting famous steam-locomotives in their prime. My late dad, an ex-driver of steam trains, would have loved it.

Nothing threadbare about the selection of real ales, though; ?Im Indoors told me around a dozen were on offer at the bar, and as the rear hosted a microbrewery, that was hardly surprising. Upstairs boasted a restaurant, but we weren?t bothering with that today. Our drinks selected and paid for, we then slumped into those enormous leather havens, and as we did so, The Fart surprised us with a confession! The mention of trains had started an ? erm ? train of thought all of its own inside our venerable editor?s head, and it concerned Midland Red buses. Apparently, when he was a wee small boy ? around the time of Dick Turpin and the Mail coaches, I would think ? a popular juvenile pastime was stealing differently-coloured plaques ? they signified the garage of origin, apparently - off the aforementioned vehicles, and our hero was immersed in this illegal pastime right up to his scrawny little neck. Blimey, Tel, you never told me before you were a career criminal, mate!

While we were there, a fellow Baggie had a vibration in his trousers?.. No, not some way-out sexual fetish derived from drinking little-known brands of beer in Derby public houses, just a text alert from our favourite football club to inform us we?d signed Senegal international Alassane N?dour. I don?t know what the position is regarding passports etc. but if it?s a sticking-point, presumably it?ll be a French one he?s after as Senegal?s a former colony of theirs. Oh, and we finally met up with John Motson?s lad, Fred, plus girlfriend, as arranged. He?s not, as I?d previously thought, a Baggie, but an avid Derby supporter. Oh, and he?s currently doing more ?A? Levels than I?d ever thought possible; psychology, English, History, General Studies, and Politics. Phew ? just hearing all that lot put me into a cold sweat. And yes ? that bet of his dad?s is on the level. I just hope we don?t disappoint him. Time to go, then, but not before hearing about the sad plight of Derby Country from one of their veteran followers. After we?d been told the sorry tale, from beginning to end, our chum then asked us where we were in the League. ?Er, second!? we chorused, at which point our little mate then exited the immediate area, simultaneously lamenting loudly, and beating his breast. I could only hope he wasn?t away to top himself?.

Out, then, into a brightly sunlit street, above which was a cerise sky dotted about with pledgets of cotton-wool clouds ? a perfect day for watching the beautiful game. A 15-minute walk under the railway bridge, along the riverbank, then past the fitness-centre brought us to the ground proper, not much changed since the last time we went there, to see The Rams play Liverpool in the Premiership, although the surrounding industrial estate had grown somewhat. Quickly circumnavigating Pride Park, we finally came across The Noise, believe it or not, nattering to the sister of the woman who manned a level-crossing not far from his place of work! Everyone else accosts workmates, friends, family ? but not our vociferous chum, oh no. And, as we made our number with our little mate, yet another tale of woe emerged. Apparently, just before kick-off on Monday, the electronic turnstiles on the corner of The Brummie decided to withdraw their labour, and with only a couple of minutes to go, the order was given to the stewards for them to be overridden. Even so, it was three minutes after the ?off? before Martin and his eldest managed to plonk down.

Off to our normal selling-positions, then ? and, a ?first?! No hassle whatsoever from the Derby stewards; on previous occasions, as I intimated yesterday, their normal attitude was to make life as difficult for us as possible. I can only assume that with relegation, they?ve had to ?wake up and smell the coffee?. In fact, their programme supervisor did come over to take a quick butchers? but after a short conversation, he actually ended up encouraging us! ?Is this a trap?? was my muttered comment. No pressure on selling, though, as the main bulk of our stock had already gone, but it was good to see those green-and-yellow clad throngs of Baggies taking a leisurely constitutional before going in. Lots of ?hello?s? of course, to various folkies, including Laraine and Dawn Astle ? it?s a mere trip up the road for them, of course ? and a chance for me to take a rear-view pic of Dawn wearing her shirt, designated, of course ?ASTLE?.

As there was very little selling to do, it was into the ground comparatively early, and upon taking our seats, it became immediately apparent there were going to be plenty of spaces in the ?home? sections. Lots of Baggies thought the home side were going to be a push-over, but I seriously had my doubts. And, the team news. Sakiri out, Siggy and Greegs in. Derby, of course, were a pale shadow of the side they used to be; gone were all their big wage-earners, and as they?d so far been unable to register a win on their own turf, the stage was set for some pretty desperate stuff. I suppose what happened in the 11th minute proved beyond reasonable doubt that when your luck?s out, nothing goes right for you; Siggy fouled Morris in what looked suspiciously like the penalty-area, but the ref adjudged the naughty act to be just outside, and we got away with the ensuing free-kick. Admittedly, all this happened at the far end of the pitch from me, but I have to say it did look ?iffy?. Had I been a home supporter, my blood-pressure would have gone though the roof. Another case of belated ?justice? after all last season?s appalling decisions? Let?s just say we had more jam than Hartleys on that one.

As the game progressed, of one thing I?m certain; for a team rooted to the bottom of the First, Derby certainly weren?t playing like they deserved to be there. Of the two sides, I would say not only did Derby play the better standard of football, also they had much more of the play. Time and time again they surged down the flanks, and their crossing was giving our rearguard a torrid time. And, in the 25th minute, what we thought was a body-blow at the time; the exit of Hughsie off the field of play, due, I?m told, to an upset stomach. I can almost hear the exchanges: ?Gaffer, I cor goo on, I ay well, it?s me bally?.? Scott Dobie stepped into the breach, and thanks to him, shortly afterwards, we did register one successful strike, but that was given offside. Was it? Hard to tell from that angle That was but a rare moment for us, because Derby were still really looking dangerous; I counted at least three occasions when, had the home side been more astute, they could have wiped the smiles right off our faces.

After the interval, it was more of the same; a slow relentless grind that must have bored the pants off any neutrals watching, with Derby grabbing the lions?s share of whatever scraps of flair and artistry were going; if anything, I would say they were gaining in strength and confidence as the half progressed. In the seats, however, a battle of a different sort was developing, between our songsters and theirs, and this did get rather lively at one point, with constant choral insults travelling the short distance from one camp to the other. Fine by me ? if they wanted to musically mix it with us, then I hoped they realised they were taking on acknowledged masters of the art! And then came the turning-point. A double-substitution, Koumas and O?Connor ? both strangely subdued today ? off, and AJ plus Sakiri on, and shortly afterwards, an Albion free-kick quite close to the danger-area. This proved to be Derby?s undoing; they failed to clear the menace properly, the ball fell to Dobes, he relayed it to Hulse, who then buried it in the back of the net. Were the frenzied celebrations in our end more down to sheer relief at having got away with murder - again? That strike extracted ? but not completely ? the venom from the home side, and a superb one-handed save from Houlty in time added on apart, unless we did something unbelievably stupid, we were home and dry. And, a couple of minute later we were; the news Palace had drawn spread around the away end with the speed of light, and suddenly, realisation dawned we?d not only buried the 1919 bogey, we were well and truly top of the First.

As I said in my opener, I came away from the game feeling as though I?d been party to some dastardly crime or another. We certainly didn?t deserve to win; in fact, once more we rode our luck to some degree, and as for the home supporters, they must have been left feeling totally suicidal. Our next test comes in two weeks time, when Ipswich ? they haven?t had the best of starts, either ? are the visitors to The Shrine. One way of looking at the enforced break for international football is that it gives all our new bugs a proper chance to ?bed in?. The ultimate challenge of our promotion credentials will come when we start to come up against sides with equally ambitious ideas for the end of the season; boring the pants off the opposition then applying the coup de grace courtesy of a solitary goal might work at one level, but it might well transpire that much more in the way of inventive and attractive football will be necessary to see off the likes of Wigan, Reading and Sheffield United. Check your diaries, because we visit the Lancashire club on the 16th of September, and on paper, with or without the assistance of Jason Roberts for The Latics, it?s already shaping up to be quite an encounter. Wigan bulldozed, or us finally found out? At least, come the end of that one, we?ll have a fairer idea of where we stand.

And finally?. Talking of Jason Roberts, we heard tonight that the Dingles have now thrown their hat into the ring concerning our disaffected striker. They, too, want him on loan, so we now have a three-cornered fight going between them, Leicester, and Wigan. Something?s got to give, because tomorrow?s the last day of the Prem?s transfer window. It?s quite a quandary; does Jase have another shot at the big-time so soon after failing so spectacularly with us, or does he stick with what he knows, and plump for Wigan? One thing in their favour is he knows the First, and he would be guaranteed first-team football, which he probably wouldn?t get were he to go to our local rivals or The Foxes; on the other hand, he was a Dingle in a former incarnation, and it?s within easy travelling distance, as is Leicester. Plus, of course, The Prem is the ultimate in shop-windows. Oh well ? we won?t have long to wait to find out who?s the winner of this particular tug-of-war.

One other final thought; anyone else notice who got two goals for Cheltenham today?

 - Glynis Wright

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