The Diary

28 October 2006: Last Sunday, The Dingles, Tomorrow The Bluenoses?

Greetings, once more, O ye Baggie people ? and, before I begin, an apology. As you will have noticed, I didn?t ?produce? the night after the Arsenal defeat. That was because I was still feeling pretty ropey from the previous day (had I not paid for that ticket up-front, I probably wouldn?t have gone at all), so, still feeling grotty after having had a decent night?s kip, made the executive decision not to bother. I?m now well and truly over it, though, save for a bit of a cough, so here I am again.

Tonight, we got back from my step-mothers? place just in time to see the second half of the Burnley-Preston game, fourth versus second in our league, of course. Nice to see four or so Albion ?exes? turn out for both sides ? Danny Dichio (Preston), and Brian Jensen, for Burnley, also Frank Sinclair and James O?Connor. Interesting to note that whenever our former custodian got the ball, there was an almighty cry of ?BEAAASSSTTTT!? from behind one or other of the goals. Clearly, our very own sobriquet for the lad has finally made it all the way up the M6, then. Mind you, as footballers go, The Beast is one of the few I have time for these days: when The Fart and I both interviewed him for the fanzine, a few seasons back, he presented as a very pleasant person indeed, and very little in the way of airs and graces, too. A refreshing chance from the current crop, some of whom still seem to labour under the mistaken belief they are God?s gift.

At the time we joined the game, not long after the start of the second half, Burnley were winning 1-0 ? but there was much more to come from that encounter, it would seem. Before too long, the visitors managed to get it back, then, within the space of about two or three minutes, took the lead themselves. So far so good for the side in runners-up spot ? but the came the ?unscripted? part of the night?s entertainment. From Preston?s point of view, that is. Burnley not only got it back again, they then had the colossal brass neck to take the lead again. Oh, whoops. It being less than five minutes to the end by then, that was a strike too far for Preston: try as they might, they simply couldn?t find enough jizz up front to level a second time. Not that we were moaning, mind; as far as these things go, that was about the best result we could have wished for. As things stand, we?re still third, and while the Turf Moor mob have crept up on us a tad with that win, the side immediately above us, Preston, now have to look anxiously over their shoulders tomorrow, when we play Blues. Draw or better at Small Heath, and we nick their second spot from them. Sounds simple, doesn?t it? I wish.

To be perfectly honest, though, I?d have much preferred going into tomorrow?s encounter happy in the knowledge that Steve Bruce?s lot had lost in the week against Warnock?s Sheffield United - it wouldn?t surprise me in the slightest to hear that our old adversary gets a bit busy around Halloween time, by the way: after witnessing some of the stunts he?s pulled on us, you can?t help but think of Gothic mansions, open graves, and things that go ?bump? in the night, can you? ? but they didn?t, did they? It?s small things like that ? unexpected Cup wins, whatever ? that can turn an ailing club?s season completely around, and tomorrow?s affair is no exception.

Had Blues not brought home the bacon from Bramall Lane, then I reckon Steve Bruce would have been really sweating on his job tomorrow, a state of affairs that would have assisted us greatly on the psychological front. As things stand, we?ve just got to find that extra bit of ?oomph?, to see us right in the end, then, haven?t we? Mind you, if Brucie does get his P45 as a result of what we do to him tomorrow, as for as The Noise?s missus, Jayne, is concerned, our lives won?t be worth living! The problem, dear reader, is that despite being respectably married and with two nearly-grown-up kids, the lady still has the ?hots? for him, even now!

Looking at their record to date, it?s not exactly something to write home about. They currently tenant eighth spot, and ended a miserable run of only one point from twelve with a win at Derby last weekend. Looking at who?s likely to play, and who?s not, though, I suspect that getting the three points ? or just the one, even ? might not be the simple affair we might have thought just a few days before. Brucie-babes knows his job?s on the line, effectively ? and wild animals fight all the dirtier when there?s something major at stake, don?t they?

?The game is about scoring goals and entertaining, as well as keeping the ball out of your net?.? That?s what Mowbray said about his footballing philosophy at a recent press conference ? and I don?t know about you lot, but that was sweet music to my delicate little ears, that was. Not since the days of Ardiles have I heard an Albion gaffer come out with similar. It?s true he was talking about Jason Koumas at the time, but he did say also that he?d effectively given our tame Scouser carte-blanche to create whatever havoc he fancied on the day. None of this ?you?ve got to be as good at tracking back in defence as you are going forwards? nonsense, or making snide remarks about workrate, or, more to the point, the lack of it from the lad, it would seem that as far as our new leader is concerned, the name of the game has to be ?goals?.

As long as Jason does the supply-line biz, or scores himself, then as far as our new gaffer is concerned, he can strip naked and do cartwheels out there if he wants, and Mowbray won?t bat an eyelid, even. That?s the way it came across to me, which is why, when I saw it, I had to do a quick double-take to ensure I wasn?t misreading the piece! Couldn?t agree more myself, actually: as I?ve said many times over in these pieces, attack really is the best form of defence ? and yes, as countless Championship (or whatever it?s been called in the past) sides have demonstrated over the course of recent years, it is perfectly possible for a side to entertain, score goals - and still get out of this blasted division in one piece. Just ask Ipswich and Man City, to name but a couple in recent times.

So what?s the scuttlebutt on who?s hot and who?s not tomorrow, then? By all accounts, Blues striker Cameron Jerome will be fit for tomorrow after suffering cramp at the House Of Bramall Pain in midweek, but both D.J. Campbell (ankle) and Mikael Forsell (knee) are looking doubtful. Blues do have a secret weapon up their sleeves, though: an Arsenal loanee called Nicklas Bendtner, who can be a thorough nuisance at times, apparently. His ?bag? is getting either goals or assists, and although only 18, he?s already a Danish international. As for our lot, I assume that both Jason Koumas and Zoltan Gera will be starting, after that little bit of a break they had on Tuesday night. Sure, Gera did come on, but it?s not the same as playing for the whole stretch, is it? The real wrench for our hopes of getting something out of this one, of course, has to be the news that neither Kev Phillips or Darren Carter will be participating in this close approximation to a Second City Tango tomorrow.

That?s the sort of pre-match intelligence we could really have done without, quite frankly: Our Kev is still suffering residual effects from the calf strain he sustained in training not long after that amazing game with Ipswich, while Darren Carter could well end up sitting out a few more. As soon as we saw him get injured on Tuesday night, we both knew it was a bad one: a hamstring, as it turned out, and you don?t usually get over that sort of thing over the course of just a few days, sadly, even though our leader steadfastly maintains it?s only a ?few fibres?. A pity, as Blues were Darren?s former club, and I?m sure he would have wanted to turn it on there, if only to prove a point or three.

Mind you, it being quite close to Halloween right now, trust Kev to get an injury well in keeping with the spirit(!) of the times. ?Kevin?s calf is just full of blood that needs releasing?.? said Mowbray to the journo trade this morning. I wonder just how strong their stomachs were on hearing the gory details; chances are not a few went pale and ?made their excuses?! Ooer. Mind you, talking of blood and unidentifiable body bits, stick around until Tuesday next, just as the clock strikes midnight, and there?ll be ghosties and ghoulies innumerable only too pleased to assist in that department, gaffer! Werewolves? No problem: after all, we did have Peter Withe?s son on our books for a time ? and believe you me, so strongly did his facial features resemble those of his ex-Villa dad, the rumour was you didn?t dare play him whenever the moon was full, for fear of what might happen to the opposition ? or, to be more accurate, their throats. As for the thought of letting him compete for silverware ? or send him to a club ?sit down eats do? where there was a silver-service, even - whenever our natural satellite was at its most photogenic phase, not at all wise, that.

What has to be the most ticklish decision for Mowbray to take, though, has to be the one regarding goalkeepers. Sure, Zoobie did keep a clean sheet against The Dingles, but so fine was the margin between him doing so, and cocking it up completely, I reckon I aged around thirty years in the course of the 90 minutes last Sunday. And, having caught a quick glimpse of Mowbray nearly tearing his thatch off just after Zoobie made one of his more memorable mullocks between the sticks, I reckon any half-decent bookie would have refused all bets on the subject today. Houlty did quite well last Tuesday night as far as I could see: if there?s any justice in this world at all, he?ll be pulling on his trusty gloves tomorrow lunchtime as well.

What he had to do versus The Arse, he did well, and those two goals weren?t really down to him ? in fact, he damn near got an heroic hand to the penalty - that?s all you need ask for right now. I don?t know what his colleagues thought, but just the sheer knowledge his mitts were ready-poised in ?grabbing? mode whenever the Gunners had a corner was enough for me. Far be it to criticise someone negatively, especially one of our players, but should Houlty get the nod and not Zoobie tomorrow, I?ll be a much-relieved Baggie. As would a lot of other people, I shouldn?t wonder. I don?t think my nerves can cope with much more of our answer to the Swiss cuckoo-clock lurking ominously between the sticks. It?s like running some old footage of Paul Crichton in ?action? ? or should that read ?inaction?? ? and mentally uncovering ghastly scenes you?d long thought memory to have well and truly scabbed over. Talk to any Baggie you like who watched during that era, and they?ll tell you they still get savage flashbacks, even now.

Clem and Gaardsoe are still long-term injured, so the back four picks itself. Now McShane?s back, he?ll be on the bench, with Steve Watson, presumably. In the middle, with Darren Carter being out, that?ll give Nigel Quashie another chance to impress, with Greening, Koumas and Gera making up the remainder of our ?engine room?. As for Messrs Chaplow and Wallwork, they?ll continue on the bench. Up front, we?ll miss Kev Phillips something awful, I?ll bet. That means any two from the remaining three to start the game. Personally, although the former?s ability to put away chances in the corresponding fixture last term was less-than impressive, I?d go for a Joe Kamara/Duke Ellington striking combo, with Hartson on the bench, possibly. At least we know for sure that the first two are fast!

So who?s going to emerge from tomorrow?s fun and games smiling, then? Of the two sides, current form would suggest that it?s us. Of their last six, Blues have won one, drawn two, lost three, while Tuesday night apart, we?ve not dipped at all, winning four and drawing two. What with Preston losing tonight, our chance to steal a march on the current leaders, Cardiff, is heartbreakingly-close. Win, and we?re on track to overtake ?em should they catch a crab ? and given they have the smallest squad in the division, just about, it?s there for the taking once injuries and suspensions start to kick in, I reckon. (Oh ? and I also laughed like a drain at the news that Leeds United former chairman Peter Ridsdale was taking over the Ninian Park reins, Sam The Man having recently called it a day for whatever reason. Dearie me; talk about King Herod taking over the nursery!)

But I get a tad in front of myself. We all know how it can go, sometimes: it?s the sort of nailbitingly-tense fixture that malevolent little gremlins take extreme delight in mucking up. All it needs is a freak goal, or a daft penalty, even, to completely ruin our day for us: believe you me, we didn?t make ?Semper Te Fallant? the motto for our fanzine for nothing. Verdict? On the balance, though, either a draw or a win for us: the latter, preferably, but the former just as acceptable.

And Finally?.. One. Some good tidings on the book front. Whoopee! Simon?s publisher contacted us today, with the cheering news that his book is now wending its way back from the printers, and as far as those who?ve already placed orders are concerned, it will be in their hot little hands within the space of but a few days. (Said she. Fingers crossed. Hopefully!) Our launch night proper is still set for November the 16th, at the ground, with Bob Taylor, Richard Sneekes and Ray Barlow definitely down to attend, and other names to be announced nearer the date ? and all are welcome, too. Just a reminder then ? and a shameless plug for the thing, of course, otherwise my life won?t be worth living, should I not include it in tonight?s piece ? ?West Brom?s Cult Heroes?, is the name of the game, and it?ll be available from the Club Shop ? although you?ll find it on Amazon, also ? from around the middle of November.

Two? Spoke to the Bluenose Butcher when I was out and about on the town this morning, trying to catch up with all the little jobs I had to postpone because of my ?attack of the nasties? the day of the Arsenal game ? and yes, he?s had a change of heart, he?s going tomorrow, but he?s also got that sinking feeling that whoever ends up as winners tomorrow, it won?t be his mob! Oh, dear ? I reckon I?ll just have to bite the bullet, and add the Samaritans? contact number to my mobile phone numbers list, I guess! For him, and not me, hopefully.

Three?. During the course of Tuesday night?s game, on one memorable occasion, the lobbing of the ball into the Arse?s danger area saw John Hartson, His Balding Majesty, rise regally to intercept the spinning orb, but only succeed in falling over in a somewhat inelegant fashion. His thespian skills being somewhat less-developed than those displayed by the youthful members of his former club, there wasn?t a cat in hell?s chance of the ref awarding a spot-kick: all that happened was the play rapidly shifting in the direction of our half instead. (Where they just as promptly got themselves a spot-kick, and in somewhat dubious circumstances, too ? but that?s the way the mop flops, sometimes, I guess, as do better acting-lessons!)

One thought did strike me, though: going by the dramatic way in which our lad dropped to the floor the minute the incident occurred, and given his build, bulky, even at the best of times (and this wasn?t a ?best time? believe you me!), I did briefly speculate as to whether the shock of that fall had set off any seismographs keeping a lonely vigil in Birmingham University?s geology faculty. You can just imagine it: all those eggheads going absolutely crazy the precise instant the pen begins its crazy dance up, down and around the graph-paper, followed by a sudden frenzy of sending out tsunami warnings left, right and centre to countries in mortal danger of being deluged by an almighty tidal wave. How many on the Richter scale? Four? Five? A stonking six or seven, maybe? Then a rapid coming down to earth when it?s finally discovered that the seismological event in question has more to do with the heavy impact of a sizeable body on contact with the Hawthorns swarth than the rapid movement of tectonic plates miles and miles below it!

 - Glynis Wright

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