The Diary

31 January 2008: Albion And Hereford - Separated At Birth?

Hands up?. How many of you live in the type of area where housewives nod sagely and approvingly through their net curtains every single time a delivery van drops off at your house a particularly tasteful design of furniture? Then, just a few weeks further down the line, while paying Mrs. Curtain-Twitcher Over The Road a courtesy visit to return the half-bag of self-raising flour she loaned you when you were stuck for enough to bake a pie, you accidentally encounter precisely the same item of furniture now adorning her living-room as adorns yours?

?Trying to keep up with the Joneses? is the common name for this sad affliction, both urban and rural, of course, but never in my wildest dreams did I suspect it could apply to football clubs. Until tonight, that is. Puzzled? Well, you shouldn?t be. I?m on about Albion and Hereford United, who really do seem to be emulating each other, right now. And there?s previous ?form?, too. The very last time both clubs shared a ?double-header? of promotions was back in 1976, when we went up to what is now the Premier League, while The Bulls, languishing what is now The First, achieved their first ever promotion to what is now The Championship. With only four seasons or thereabouts in the League under their belt prior to their elevation, their ascent of the lower leagues was a pretty meteoric one, whichever way you wanted to look at it.

(GLYNISNOTE: Come season 1976-77 they encountered, for the first time ever in their history, what are known to us as The Dingles. No sooner had the fixtures come out for the following campaign, there were scenes of complete and utter panic in that Edgar Street boardroom. The Bulls, by way of experimentation, and having heard quite a lot they wished they hadn?t about the awful reputation of our Black Country rivals? supporters, then hastily enlisted the somewhat bellicose services of the SAS, also based in the town, for stewarding duties in the Edgar Street away end during that particular game. Such was the sheer amount of physical damage perpetrated upon the gold-and-cack persuasion?s nutter element that day ? yes, I know, where there?s no sense, there?s no feeling, but a line most certainly has to be drawn somewhere, preferably while most victims are still alive to tell the tale! - the experiment was never again repeated! ?Nuff said. Ouch.)

Our elevation to the top flight that same season meant the two clubs never crossed swords as far as the bread-and-butter business of League football was concerned ?after two seasons in the old Division Two, Hereford were relegated again, and never again managed to restore their former elevated status - but come season 2007-08, it now seems to me that once more, Bulls and Throstles alike are in constant competition to mirror each other?s League form. Take the period before Christmas where, after a bad start, both clubs rose stratospherically, getting into the places that really mattered as the shops rapidly filled with Yuletide goodies.

Positions in those much-desired promotion slots were well and truly cemented by both clubs around the festive season, but the New Year has brought with it something of a diminution of form in both outfits. The Baggies still hang onto their coveted top spot ? just! ? thanks to a run of equally indifferent form on the part of their fellow would-be escapers, but with Hereford, the reasons are slightly different: even though badly strapped for cash, Graham Turner?s mob are valiantly trying to run things on a shoestring. Their first-team squad is now pared so far back, it would only take a few more injuries etc. to see a desperate Graham Turner handing a first-team shirt to the club cat, then telling Puss she?s got herself a game in midfield if she plays her cards right.

The result? Injury and suspension, not to mention the low-level irritation caused by having to send loan players back, has absolutely ravaged their side, and thanks to their wonderful Cup run, which came to an unlucky end last Sunday, when they played Cardiff, they?ve predictably ended up playing an awful lot of games in a very short space of time. At least we can operate a rotation system, of sorts, to relieve the pressures placed upon our weary key performers, but for the Bulls, it?s a luxury they can never afford. Result? Just like we did at Preston last night, they too lost tonight?s League game with Barnett. At Edgar Street, as opposed to an away venue, but the final score was still the same, 2-1, to the visitors, of course.

I didn?t go ? still tired from last night, if you really want to know the truth ? but ?Im Indoors did. Poor soul, he didn?t half look miserable when he came through our front door, at around eleven o?clock tonight. Apparently, Barnet were quite simply the better side on the night, but he did declare himself impressed with a spanking-new loan signing, who sounds like the indisputable canine?s testicles, if only a fraction of what my beloved has to say about him is is true.

Oh, dear ? although there?s three up automatically from that division, with the next four going through the play-offs, come the end of term, if the Bulls don?t get out of this bad patch of theirs soon, they might well find their season ending in a bit of a damp squib. We aren?t quite at that stage, as yet, but chuck a few bad results on the bounce into the mix, and we could well be looking at the same thing ourselves, quite easily.

And what of last night? Am I bovvered? Are you? Sort of: I had hoped we could have made a much better showing of it, but the whole shape of the side, their demeanour ? everything ? it all looked badly awry, to me. Mogga, in his post-match chinwag to the assembled hacks, described our inability to defend set-pieces as our ?Achilles Heel?, and quite right too. Well, if ever there was a game where we really have to win, if only for psychological reasons, our next one must certainly be it. The thing is, you can bet your life that Burnley had somebody watching last night?s game, and it won?t have escaped their attention either that if you can win free-kicks fairly close to the target area - even a corner or three will do the trick quite nicely ? then you do stand a quite reasonable chance of completely wrecking our day.

And, when you sit and think about it, once the word gets around the division?s other strugglers that we?re absolute pants at defending free-kicks and the like, they?re going to try to emulate Preston?s feat themselves, aren?t they? It?s a problem that?s got to be addressed, and urgently, because we?re going to be facing not a few sides in or dangerously close to the Lancashire strugglers? position, over the course of the next few games. And as the season drags on relentlessly towards its close, the desperation factor weighing upon these clubs might well give them sufficient impetus to stop us playing, break up our normal rhythm via frequent offsides, fouls, and all the rest of the malarkey. As far as we?re concerned, it?s a ploy that?s been tried and tested by those perpetrating it over and over this season. And most clubs employing this kind of game plan against us, thus far, have not found it wanting.

Apparently, the Mogga master-plan is to go back to fundamentals in the time between now and the weekend. Go to our training ground in the intervening period, and all you?re likely to see and hear will be the sound of eleven Baggie blokes practicing set-pieces ad infinitum (nauseam?). But wasn?t that the master-plan just a few weeks back, when we also went through an initial (and absolutely godawful) spate of such difficulties? Either our finest have the collective attention-span of a nematode worm when being given specific coaching instructions, or to a man, they?re battling the early stages of dementia, the one when people do the most dotty things, usually the precise opposite of what you?d told them to do just minutes before, but aren?t at the physically violent stage, as yet.

Some of those chances we so narrowly missed last night would surely have been put away by Kev Phillips, had he been around to take advantage. According to the club website, our injured main man is now trying like stink to get fit for Saturday: Mogga reckons that his absence from last night?s encounter was largely to prevent more serious damage being done, which ties in quite neatly with what I said about such injuries and older players at the start of last night?s offering. And given that The Clarets are no slouches when it comes to dishing out the dirty stuff, I reckon Our Kev will need all the help he can get. And that?s about it for now. Back on Friday evening, assuming I don?t fall victim to one or other of my maladies in the intervening period, that is!

SOME LATE NEWS JUST IN ? WELL, IT?S LATE FOR ME, IF NOT FOR ANYONE ELSE?.

Champagne in our Boardroom tonight, folkies. Whisper it quietly, but we?ve finally managed to pay off John Hartson! Whoopee! I know that our leaders had been talking turkey about this very same subject to the guy recently, but until now, all we got from his agent was the exasperating intimation that after careful consideration, blah, blah, blah - he?d be staying, thank you very much. That?s one hell of a big chunk off our wage bill, mind, so well done to whoever conducted the peace talks: does that mean that this will now free up much-needed extra cash for Mogga?s use?

And Finally?? The scope of human knowledge expands apace?.. Did you know, for example, that the gestational period (length of pregnancy, in English) for the elephant is 22 months, and the sheep a paltry 5 months? Primates remain in an ?interesting condition? for around the time we do; it all depends upon what type of primate you?re on about (NB. When I say ?Primate?, I?m not banging on about the Archbishops of either York or Canterbury, you?ll be most relieved to hear). Gorillas pop out at 8 and a half months, and monkeys at 7 and a half months.

As for our furry friends, quietly scratching irritant fleas by the warm glow of the living-room fire, in the dog it?s 63 days before you hear the patter of tiny paws, flea-ridden or not, while cats, normally so perverse, when it comes to matters concerning their anatomy and physiology, actually share the same pregnancy time as Fido. Not quite scrupulously accurate: the books say 63-65 days, but who am I to argue? Certainly not with our cats: they have the ultimate sanction available to them, scratching sundry items of furniture to shreds, and very probably leaving a little ?calling card? of their own, warm, liquid, and very, VERY pungent, just to act as ?positive reinforcement?.

I can now hear you all saying, ?Very nice, all this biological stuff, but what has it got to do with the Baggies?? Well, it does, actually, but in a very indirect way. Late this afternoon, our phone rang ? ?Im Indoors was at work, still ? and the caller was none other than Missus Noise, aka Jane. Apparently, Mini-Noise Number Two, aka Bethany, had been set some homework by her teacher ? how does he or she manage to get a word in edgeways, I wonder? - and as their PC was in dry dock, still, and very poorly, could I help? Jane then outlined what was required: as you saw above, it all revolved around the gestational times of some common animals.

Quite easy to research, actually: in some cases, the blurb on each Google entry gave me the answer I wanted right there and then, with no need to go right into the site concerned, while only a couple necessitated my having to take a quick dekko into the meat of the matter. Anyway, the whole thing took very little time, so I was back on the blower to Missus Noise within a matter of a few minutes.

After she?d jotted down all the answers, I did tell Jane to remind her blessed younger daughter that as I?d got her out of a bit of a tightish spot today, a ?consultation fee? would be charged the very next time I saw her, in the pub before the Burnley game. And the penalty for reneging upon such payment? One of two options: 1) Having all her finger and toenails pulled out one by one with pliers, or 2) Me buying her a Dingles season ticket, and Bethany being taken to The Custard Bowl, under armed escort, every single home game, to make sure she uses it!

 - Glynis Wright

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