Next Match: Scunthorpe United (A) Tuesday 28th September 2010

Sunday 17 January 2010

Come on ref... HANDBALL!!

Well, here it is; my first ever post on this brand new, state of the art Barnsley FC blog! And what a time to start it. I've already missed enough writing material this season to maintain 4 blogs. So far, by starting this blog in January 2010, I've missed the bitter, bitter end of Simon Davey's up and down tenure in the BFC hot seat, as well as some other memorable moments; the arrival of our Messiah from Rovrum, Mark Robins, as well as the (non) return of one Christopher Morgan to Oakwell. And don't get me started on the Plymouth debacle. Yep, there's certainly been plenty to talk about so far in the 09/10 campaign, and hopefully there'll be plenty more talking points over the coming months.

Anyhoo, back to the first blog; Sheffield Wednesday at home. I'll start from the beginning, waaaaay before the pixie in the black blew his whistle for the first and only time at 3pm on Saturday afternoon. The night before I was feeling pretty damn sick, and I struggled to sleep all night. The nerves I get before this fixture are by far and away more unbearable than with any other local derby. I know I shouldn't let it affect me in the way it does, but it's customary now, like a horrible, horrible tradition. See, I've never liked Sheffield Wednesday, obviously that goes without saying. But recently, it's been a different scenario. My significant other happens to be a die hard Wendyite, as is her old man, so these match days have taken another step up in the "unbearable" stakes. Don't get me wrong, last season was a blast, with our delightful double keeping them both uncharacteristically quiet for a few months. But even with their precarious league position, and our new found ability to actually beat them, I didn't feel so confident about Saturday 16th January.

This "new manager syndrome" people tell you about, I've never been bothered with it. What a load of old rubbish, eh? Surely? If a team are poor enough to be in the brown stuff as deep as Wednesday are, surely no new manager can make that drastic a change?? SURELY?? Well, I'd probably believe that myself, had I not witnessed the footballing miracle MARK ROBINS has provided us with since his arrival. And, since then, that syndrome seems way too close to home to dismiss. And, let's be honest, who really saw it coming; Alan Irvine getting sacked by Preston? It seemed like such a strange decision at the time, and still just as much so. He's a good manager, and methinks Wednesday have landed on their feet by bringing him in.

Anyway, confidence issues aside, we have to play them twice a season, and the day was upon us again. So, with my lucky socks in place, and my new retro 1980/81 Barnsley home shirt pulled on and ready for it's first taste of South Yorkshire derby day, off me and my dad went. The pre-match drinks went down a treat, and suddenly the day felt like it could be a success. Funny thing, alcohol; it tends to breed confidence. Sometimes it's misplaced, but Saturday just began to feel right. We were in the box seat for the first time in a long time; these points were ours for the taking today and the Deedahs should be the ones battling with the nerves, not us. These thoughts were reinforced when I got talking to a cockney Wendy fan in the pub (??), who'd travelled up from London to watch the game, and seemed adament that we were gonna give them a severe beating on our own patch. I was getting a bit carried away by this point, so Sod's Law says something was gonna bring me crashing down to Earth. And it's not like Barnsley to disappoint now, is it?

The game then. I'd barely sat my slightly intoxicated, very nervous backside down on my seat and we were behind thanks to some suicidal defending. Steele will look back at that one and hang his head, as will Dicko no doubt. But after Freddy dragged us back into the match with a FANTASTIC, PERFECTLY JUDGED LOB (mis-hit cross), yet again I dared to believe. We'd let them have a goal; that was the neighbourly thing to do, yes? Nobody can accuse us of not being good hosts. But now, we'd sort them out. We'd take control of the game and give them what was coming to them. The only problem was, before I'd finished this chain of thought, we'd bloody well give them another one. This one hurt more, because it was him again. Jermaine friggin' Johnson. There's something about that bloke, the way he celebrates goals, the way he runs, everything; he winds me up no end. It could've been ANYONE but him and it'd have been slightly easier to take, but nooooooo, it was him. Great.

There were a few moments in that frantic 1st half that should have indicated it just wasn't gonna be our day. The penalty shout was as clear cut as I've ever seen, and it was sickening to see the referee wave it away without a moments thought. I've got to say, I was too far away to make a totally accurate judgement, but I'm willing to trust the various Wednesday fans who've gloated about it since and assume that the officials got it wrong. If only Clatterburg had been in charge of the game, I'm sure the right decision would have been made. After all, he loves giving penalties in front of the away end.

The other talking point was Sheffield Wednesdays resident blunderer, Darren Purse, attempting the most insane 30 yard backpass ever witnessed and only escaping the wrath of the 4,500 strong deedah crowd thanks to some poor, indecisive finishing from Boggy. It looked bad from the front of the Ponty end, and I've seen enough replays to know Boggy should really have punished Purse and put us into what would have been a barely deserved, but very welcome 2-1 lead.

We only get shit refs...

Anyway, the first half came and went with the horror backpass and the very clear penalty waved away by our heroic official (more on him later) the stand out moments. The 2nd half never quite lived up to the 1st, although to be fair, the game never fizzled out; the tension was there until the final kick of the day. Steele was given a masterclass in how to punch the ball by most of the Wednesday defence and the referee did his best to ignore every claim we had. Seriously, did anyone actually see him bring his whistle out for the second half?? I think Mr Penn must have left it with his good friend Mr Teller in the tunnel, 'cos he certainly wasn't carrying the damn thing. It's a sad indictment of the season we're having with referees that our most frequently used chant is the 'shit refs' one, and it's beginning to feel like we'll never get another penalty at home. But, despite his poor performance, it shouldn't be allowed to shield the Reds from some deserved criticism; they weren't at the races and got pretty much what they deserved. At times we played they way Wednesday wanted us to, and allowed the game to become a scrappy affair. Simply, we weren't worthy of the points.


His dads a cu...

The rest of the weekend has been pretty hard to get through, as I'm sure it has for most Reds fans. The girlfriend and her dad have barely been able to hide the smug looks all weekend, and I've been in a non-stop sulk since about 4:58 Saturday evening, as I'm sure many others have. Any defeat ruins the weekend, but this one in particular stings more than any other. But onwards and upwards, as they say. Plymouth is a massive game, but it's very winnable (we've already done it once) and could be the kick start we need after a couple of poor results recently. I wish I was making that one in, but family commitments mean I can't make Plymouth or Reading, both of which I was looking forward to, so I'll be concentrating all my efforts on welcoming Darren Ferguson into his new Preston job on the 2nd of February. I'm sure he remembers the Reds fans from Peterborough earlier in the season!

Thanks for reading, I hope you come back again and continue sharing this season with me.

Cheers.

2 comments:

  1. JCR will be missed

    http://gallery.photo.net/photo/10533711-md.jpg

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  2. We will miss him Terry but I'm sure MR has irons in the fire. JCR has been a good servant for the club but he hasn't been the same since this time last season, maybe Reading turned his head a bit and distracted him from the cause...?

    Cheers for the comment mate, first of many hopefully

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