The Diary

21 March 2008: And So To The Valley We Go. Confident? Not Me!

All wrapped up for Easter, are we, then? I hope so, because according to all those nice people from the Met Office (love the erudite way you dangle all that slimy seaweed and pine-cone out of the window, you guys!), it?s going to be colder than an accountant?s ticker, even ? some achievement in itself, that - over the course of the next three days or so. For the technically-minded, there?s two reasons: first off, the wind?s going to be roaring in straight from the North Pole, and secondly, this year?s just happens to be the earliest Easter since 1913.

As I understand it, the date of Easter is partially determined by what?s known as the spring equinox, the date in the calendar when the tilt of the planet is such that the amount of day to night is of equal duration: the date is calculated from that, apparently. God knows how (I did know once, but have since forgotten, a much-needed boost for my sanity, if ever there was one!), but it is. Anyway, because it?s earlier than normal, that?s why Good Friday?s going to be so miserable for we Charlton-bound Baggies, tomorrow. The weather has yet to get into proper ?spring mode?, of course. SIX CENTIGRADE? As our own lot would sing, ?Yer avin? a laff?.?

Mind you, misery sure is relative: just look what happened but a mere tadge over a year after the last time Easter fell this early! Oh, well ? it sure is ONE way of ?qualifying for Europe?, I suppose, albeit a pretty bloody one. Not to mention extreme. In fact, should things go horribly wrong at The Valley tomorrow, ?a pretty bloody one? might well serve as a pretty accurate descriptor for what happens on the field of play. Long ago, I developed a distinct aversion towards using the expression ?must-win game? in journalistic anger ? aren?t they ALL ?must-wins?, for Heaven?s sake? ? but if ever tomorrow needed a phrase to completely encapsulate the sheer urgency of our mission in the nation?s capital, than that?s one that must serve as a pretty apt, if unlovely, one to employ.

Similarly, if ever there was a time when we needed to put the glamour of the FA Cup completely out of our minds, then tomorrow has to be ?yer man? as well. It?s all very well to sit and contemplate upon the almighty amount of ackers that?ll come cascading into Jeremy Peace?s somewhat battered biscuit-tin after our forthcoming Wembley bun-fight, successful or otherwise, but by its very nature, the FA Cup serves as a cash-cow in the short-term only.

Like it or not ? which I most certainly DON?T: as far as I?m concerned, the Premier League is nowt but an over-hyped, cash-bloated, commercialised, corruption-riddled institution that will surely bring the game as we know it crashing all about our materialistically-obsessed ears, sooner or later ? the top flight has to be our ultimate aim this term. And you don?t rack up League points by completely blowing bread-and-butter games we should have won easily. As the huggable Colin?s Sheffield United side quickly found out to their cost several seasons on the bounce, serious Cup progress will only bring you a first team squad rendered horribly jaded through gross fixture pile-up, not to mention all the other horrors discussed below.

And that?s the likely reason why not a single lower division side since has ever managed to emulate our much-vaunted 1931 feat of winning both the Cup and promotion in the same season. Since the days of the Depression, sundry demands placed upon aspirant top-flight sides by the vastly-increased pace and athleticism of the game, much more tactical awareness, a lot more games played per season (no League Cup commitment back then: that, coupled with a lesser number of League fixtures to fulfill), have all conspired to make it much, much harder for aspirants to repeat the feat.

In its own way, it?s an achievement on a par with that of Man U or Arsenal winning The Treble - an event of almost astronomical significance, not to mention rarity. It would of course be the most delicious of ironies to see us do exactly the same thing again, but I really can?t see it happening. There?s far too much in the way of adverse factors mitigating against us. A squad where far too many of its members spend much of their spare time in the treatment room, for starters.

Not necessarily an adverse criticism, mind, given the frequency with which so many League opponents seemingly embark upon a standard operating procedure of trying to kick as many of our own people into near-Earth orbit as they possibly can, these days. All that, plus referees and linos who all-too frequently don?t fulfill one really important obligation to the 22 players entrusted to their weekly care: that of providing the more skilful with adequate protection against the more cynical (and injurious) of opposition tactical ploys. Just a classic case of ?Realism Rules OK?? Yep.

I need hardly add that it?s the sheer amount of injuries currently ravaging our first-team squad that provide the major factor upon which the success of tomorrow?s London trip stands or falls. Shergar, who post-Hereford, just might have provided an unexpected way out of the various striker problems that currently beset us, will be out for at least two weeks. He needs knee-cartilage surgery of some sort, apparently, presumably of the ?keyhole? variety, given the relatively short length of time he?ll be unavailable. Around 30 years ago, he would have been out for at least a month, probably more, so I suppose we do have to be grateful for small mercies.

Also out ? but congratulations on making the England U21 squad now due to both him and Luke Moore (provided the latter can somehow overcome the psychological scars caused by last Saturday?s dismissal, which earned a stonking-great defeat for us, an automatic three-game ban for him, not to mention the complete and utter opprobrium of the greater part of our home support) ? will be Leon Barnett, a lad who was only now beginning to live up to all the pre-transfer hype lavished upon him, before getting injured during last weekend?s 4-1 home humiliation versus Leicester.

Quite a blow, that, especially coupled with equally significant twin ones of not having either Chris Brunt, crosser of the ball par-excellence, or James Morrison, available. They?re slowly getting there, both of them, and now in training once more, but tomorrow?s jaunt to The Valley is most certainly a case of ?too much too soon? for either. And then we have Tex and Beattie out as well, of course. Somebody at our favourite football club has been booting some poor black cat up the fundament way too hard, I suspect.

The good news? We may have Carl Hoefkens fit and ready to return to duty. He?s now back in training, apparently, but whether Mogga will actually want to ? or feels desperate enough to ? take the undoubted risk of fielding someone not quite properly match-fit for this one is another matter entirely. Don?t forget tomorrow?s game will be our only fixture obligation over the entire Easter period. Screw up, and unlike preceding seasons, there?s no handy Easter Monday fixture there to provide a swift opportunity for rectifying matters. Our next game after tomorrow is versus struggling Colchester, scheduled for Saturday week.

So what of news from The Valley, then? Their gaffer, Alan Pardew, looking to rectify matters after a straight run of three defeats on the bounce, might give on-loan winger Lee Cook a go, after he came through the whole of a recent reserve game OK. They?re as desperate to revive their play-off bid as we are apropos automatic promotion. Madjid Bougherra, a foot injury victim, is described as ?doubtful?, while the hamstrung Lloyd Sam is definitely out. Therry Racon won?t be figuring, mind: he?s gone to Brighton on loan.

Pardew is expected to revert to 4-4-2 after a disastrous recent flirtation with other formations. This means that either Andy Gray, Luke Varney or Chris Iwelumo will assist Leroy Lita up front. Oh ? and another thought. Hands up all those who remember Derek ?Fungus Features? Hales from the eighties? He?s the lad who thinks The Addicks will land themselves a hatful of goals for the nationwide delectation of TV viewers tomorrow. Must be his beard?s heavy bacterial count playing him up, or something. I do hope we manage to prove him wrong. Tomorrow?s man with the whistle? K.A. Friend. If I remember rightly, he?s proven no friend whatsoever to us on previous occasions!

Our chances of getting anything at all from tomorrow?s game? Had you asked me that same question around a couple of months back, I would have expressed great displeasure you were doubting Mogga?s managerial skills to that extent in the first place. But given our horrible injury problems, coupled with what?s clearly a case of loss of form in some instances, I?m now really sceptical as to whether automatic promotion is genuinely achievable.

Far more realistic is the play-offs ? but given the vast amount of ground Hull and the Dingles have both made up on us, of late, should our deterioration continue even further, even that issue might well be in serious doubt. Which only leaves us with The Cup: again, realism has to be king.

But on a much brighter note, today was particularly significant for the Wright household, insofar as we finally managed to sign, seal and deliver our end of the house-purchase contract, as conducted by our Baggies-loving solicitor earlier today. All that remains now is for the purchaser to do similar, and we?re cooking on gas.

Not that it should be a problem, mind, as they?re most anxious to complete as well: not only that, but as the purchaser just happens to be a solicitor, and doing all the necessary conveyancing work herself, we?re currently looking at a date around seven days from now. While I?m suffering with El Tel at The Valley, she?s coming over to our place to measure up for carpets, curtains, etc. Look out, Halesowen ? we?re a-comin? to get ya!

And Finally?. One. Oh, dear, yet another apology to the Scandinavian Baggies is in order, apparently. Getting Ollie confused with Stian Boe, I mean. Ever single time I see these guys I do it, so profuse apologies to the one who ISN?T an accountant are very much in order. And equally sincere commiserations to the one who genuinely IS!

Two? Surely a contradiction in terms of the grossest kind, this one? By that, I mean a certain unlikely headline spotted on a website, just hours earlier. The title of the piece in question? ?WEST BROM HOSPITALITY UPDATE?. Which is why I almost fell off my seat shaking with great gobbets of ironic laughter when I first read it! As for the club planning such an effusive welcome for our itinerant finest, let?s just say they live but a few miles further up the A41, shall we, and leave it at that?

Three?. So our favourite football club want we Halfords Lane C Block people to help test out their evacuation procedures after the Colchester shindig, do they? I hope they realise that if that game finishes with us handing all three points to the Essex side, MINE will be tested to the point of complete and utter (lower-bowel) destruction!

OH ? AND ANOTHER THING! According to today?s paper, scientists have just found the first organic molecule ever to be discovered in the atmosphere of a planet orbiting a solar system other than our own. Its parent star is some 63 light years distant, apparently, so don?t go bombarding Thomas Cook for booking details, for now.

The nature of the substance thus discovered? Common or garden METHANE, according to the piece I read. Oh, Lord! It?s late, very much so, in fact, but the full implications of this have just dawned upon me. Does this mean that somehow, the anally-emissive Brooksie managed to get there first? Curry-and-beer propulsion, I shouldn?t wonder, courtesy a self-made (inflicted?) ?black hole?. I bet that?s one hypothesis astrophysicist Stephen Hawkings never even thought of!

 - Glynis Wright

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