The Diary

28 November 2006: Hillsborough - An 'Owl' Of Anguish Or Not? Discuss.

Greetings, again, upon what?s really shaping up to be a dank and dismal Tuesday night here in the West Midlands. Not terribly cold, though; I guess we have global warming to thank for that particular quirk of Nature, but the damp doesn?t half get into your bones, sometimes. Or am I just getting old?

Actually, we?re just back from seeing a couple of long-lost members of Norm The Plumber?s family, Norm being ?Im Indoors?s mum?s ?significant other?, in case you didn?t know; not married, but as near as makes no difference. He?s also the chap that?s doing our central heating boiler at the moment, so it was a bit of a moral obligation on our part to attend, really. Mind you, the two elderly ladies that turned up tonight seem to have got this ?visiting the rellies? - a common term of affection good enough Down Under is plenty good enough for me back in Blighty ? well sewn up. Both retired, now, one used to be a radiographer, and the other a missionary in Africa, which in effect means that between the pair of ?em, they?ve got body and soul pretty much taken care of, I guess.

The former Bible-basher had some pretty startling tales to tell about everyday life in Sudan and Somalia, not to mention various other nation states situated in that particular neck of the wood: kidnap, virtual house-arrest, confiscation of passport by the (then) ruling generals, being kicked out of one country ? you think of the crisis situation brought on primarily through trying to educate and improve the daily lives of ordinary working people in what amounted to a dictatorship, and it had happened to her in heaps. ?Sounds just like Wolverhampton!? was my laconic observation ? and no, I don?t think she quite saw the funny side of it either.

But perhaps I?m doing her a great injustice; first impressions were she certainly didn?t conform to the mental image I?d always had of those who so selflessly dedicated their entire lives to Doing Good Works in the innards of the Dark Continent. Quite a laugh, actually, in a ?Jolly Hockey Sticks, Golly Gosh? plummy sort of way, and not at all averse to giving poor Norm as good as she got by way of return, as far as the old ?verbals? were concerned. Definitely worldly-wise: despite knowing rock-all about the beautiful game, she?ll do for me.

So what?s happening on the Baggies front, then? Firstly, as I mentioned last night, Cinderella will be going to the Hillsbrough Ball after all, and courtesy of The Fart?s mate, the one who tried to get on ?Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? a couple of seasons back; Diary ?regulars? might recall me mentioning it at the time. All I?m waiting for now is The Fart to let me know what time they?re calling to pick me up: the delay is because car-driver Ian hasn?t got back to The Fart, as yet, but as there?s oodles of time left before we set sail around late afternoon tomorrow, I?m not exactly going to need the old insomnia pills, yet, am I? Well, not until after the game: should we perform as badly tomorrow evening as we did versus The Potties, Wednesday supporters will not only be braying their bloody heads off with hysterical laughter, there?ll be great gouts of superheated steam gushing forth from mine, as well.

The reason why I?m ?going solo? to Sheffield? Because ?Im Indoors has become quite a Baggie jinx, of late. Consider the evidence for the prosecution, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: the day when His Nibs last chose to watch Hereford United and not us, Albion were at Ipswich, cleaning up at Portman Road, to the tune of five in the bag for us, and only one in reply from them, with myself and a practically-delirious Fart witnessing the entire thing. That result certainly acted as the ?kiss of life? on my other half?s previous rapidly-fading interest in attending away fixtures, but there still remained one small dampener on the proceedings: whenever and wherever ?Im Indoors subsequently travelled in search of Albion-inspired Nirvana, our rearguard instantaneously developed more holes than Granddad?s ancient string vest. The recent Britannia balls-up just about put the cap on it, I reckon. Just call him ?Jonah? and be done with it, I say, indigestion-struck cetaceans and all: no worries about him, he?ll simply have a whale of a time inside Leviathan?s gyppy-tum instead.

Following Saturday?s (costly, in the long term?) away defeat, our well-angry leader, Mystic Mogga, labelled our entire first-half performance (and, as far as I?m concerned, most of the second) ?unacceptable?. So that was our players, then, caught completely ?bang to rights?. You really couldn?t argue, could you? And, what?s more, I?m as certain as I ever will be that our stripy chums fully realise by now that The Great Britannia Stadium Heist wasn?t exactly their finest hour. Tomorrow night?s game will represent their first available chance to make proper amends, in the general direction of distinctly-miffed manager and sold-short supporter alike.

It?s always been my contention that the real test of a side striving to reach escape velocity consists of how well they bounce back in the game following a truly dire performance ? and the same applies to managers, too. I await tomorrow evening?s developments with interest. Among the numerous well-chosen words that must have left the ears of our players really ringing after Saturday?s final whistle, I?m sure ample room was also left for an appeal to the collective consciences of those who couldn?t quite cut the mustard that day. ?Can ? And Must - Do Better? isn?t the half of it. Shove an ?Or Else!? on the end of that little lot, Mogga, and you?ll have it about right, methinks.

?A dirty picture in a golden frame?? That was one Baggies supporter?s memorable description of Sheffield some 40 years back, around the time the entire area still reverberated to the shuddersome sounds of steel foundry machine presses innumerable stamping away furiously. All gone, now, of course, and a bloody great shopping centre built there instead. Hillsbrough?s always been a pretty ancient stamping-ground for we travelling Baggies, too, needless to say. No doubt The Fart can and will supply me with some pretty hefty reminiscences of his own, but one memory of that place revolves around the fog-soaked affair of autumn 1967, when we drew 2-2, Chipper Clark and The King grabbing our brace.

Then there was the time we stood for the entire hour and a half on the open terrace there, and with enough rain to fill the Grand Coulee Dam gradually saturating my lovely ?beehive? hairstyle, so lovingly ?erected? the day before: no, in case you ask, it didn?t help one little bit either that we lost that one by the odd goal. My recollections of both occasions also involve watching a certain bloke by the name of Don Megson perform defensively for Wednesday: ?uncompromising?, or ?robust? always appropriate descriptions to apply regarding his game, I reckon. He also had a young son by then, chip off the old block, too, little ginger-headed mite called Gary. Whatever happened to him, I wonder?

January the 3rd, 1970 saw us paired with them in the FA Cup Third Round, an away tie, and on a bitterly-cold day, too, as I recall. Not exactly our finest hour, that one, the game ending in an annoying 2-1 defeat for us, but there was one compensation in particular for we weary away travellers, and you?ll sometimes see it replayed on ?Match Of The Day? even now. I refer to the absolute cracker of a goal Bomber Brown smacked in on the half-volley, after first treating us to a build-up incorporating a juggling act that would surely have won plaudits on the stage, bringing the ball under full control whilst running hell for leather towards the Wednesday penalty area at the same time, then pulling the trigger from about 25 yards out. Not so easy to do, that: all the more reason why Bomber?s goal wizardry was later voted ?Goal Of The Season? by slack-jawed MOTD viewers the entire length and breadth of England and Wales. To be perfectly honest, ask me to compile a list of my all-time favourite Albion goals right here and now, and that one would surely top the lot, no question about it.

Bringing us back to the present once more, this season represents our first pairing for quite some time, the result of both sides spending considerable time featuring in other League tables, of course. They?ve also appointed a new gaffer, Brian Laws, The Owls? first game with him in charge resulting in a bloodless scorecard, made significantly creditable because of the table-topping opposition, Cardiff City. Another vagrant thought about their recent search for a manager, mind: what really astonished me was the fact that Gary Megson didn?t land the job, despite having applied for it.

When you sit and think about it, Meggo ticked all the right boxes for their board: both father and son playing for The Owls in former times: him having Wednesday in his blood, sort of: living locally: no-nonsense disciplinarian of the old school: him being well used to operating on a shoestring budget, not to mention having something of a decent track-record in successfully restoring fallen giants to their former glory by virtue of constant tugging at their bootstraps. So why Laws and not him, I wonder? Could it be that his ? errr ? ?reputation? preceded him by a country mile? Have we now seen the very last of Gary?s somewhat animated technical area performances, I wonder, not to mention a certain ?way with words? that would win plaudits innumerable from Regimental Sergeant Majors the whole world over?

As things stand, Wednesday lurk just below the halfway mark, and won?t particularly relish finding themselves inadvertently sucked into a relegation crisis ere the turning of the current year. As far as their line up?s concerned tomorrow night, Wednesday may have Chris Brunt back after a suspension: of the two who were injured versus Cardiff on Saturday, Deon Burton (concussion) and Majdid Bougherra (thigh), Burton should be fit, but the Algerian lad probably won?t be.

As far as we?re concerned, scuttlebutt is that Zoltan Gera might well be up for a start tomorrow night. Houlty between the sticks, of course ? should it be any different, then I will know for sure that Mogga?s well and truly lost it ? while the back four should be as per normal, Alby, Curtis Davies, Chris Perry and Robbo. Midfield? The Mighty Zoltan I?ve already mentioned, of course, with the rest coming from either Jason Koumas, Nigel Quashie, Jonathan Greening or Darren Carter. As far as the last name on that list is concerned, let?s hope he?s fully seen the error of his ways since last weekend?s nonsense, eh? Strikers? Hmmmmm?. A choice between Kamara, Duke Ellington and Kev Phillips, really. Any chance you can actually hit the target this time round, chaps?

Could be quite a humdinger, this one. We need the points badly, and so do Wednesday. And there?s yet another consideration that might not be so immediately obvious; the fact that our finest really do owe us one for Saturday?s lacklustre performance. Grab the points and we?re in there pitching once more: stuff up again, and we?ll be even further adrift than we were on Sunday morning. As for me, I?m not going to make any further predictions about tomorrow night, rash or otherwise. Oh, and another thought. I know it?s early days, as yet, but should our fortunes still remain on the slide come the opening of the transfer window proper, on January the 1st, 2007, would our board then be tempted to move into ?flogging? mode, I wonder? There certainly wouldn?t be a lack of Premiership clubs sniffing around our heels should the likes of Gera, Davies, Koumas or Robinson feature in the ?January Sales?, would there? Just a thought.

And Finally?. While we?re on the delicate subject of ?predictions?, with both The Fart and myself suddenly changing our normal mode of conveyance (and driver!) for tomorrow night?s game, will it result in an instantaneous turning around of our currently-inconsistent League fortunes, I wonder? After you with the prayer-mat.

 - Glynis Wright

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