Seeing Red - The Barnsley FC Blog

Match 8: Reading (A)

2010-09-26T23:03:00.000+01:00

I’m a positive person, and I like to look for the plus side of every situation. And the good news is, I found one for that match at Reading; there is no earthly, possible way that we can perform that badly again this season. It cannot get any worse than that.

Reading is such a trek. There’s no way around it. There’s no easy way to get to it. We opted for the club coach, meaning our day started when my alarm buzzed at half 7, with me barely conscious. By the time we’d arrived at Oakwell, got our tickets sorted, and got sat on the bus, I think I was in a coma. I wasn’t even looking forward to the game by this point.

The weather didn’t help. It was one of those days when the sun is out, there’s barely a cloud in the sky, but it’s absolutely bloody freezing. I hate these days, you never know what coat to take, whether to take the gloves or not. It’s crucial stuff; taking the gloves when it isn’t glove weather is a serious breach of masculinity. As it happens, I left the gloves at home, but brought out the big winter coat to try and beat the elements.

I just didn’t know what I was expecting from this one. Our recent record against them is dreadful, our recent away form is dreadful, perhaps the signs were there, but eventually that will have to change.

I slept the first half of the coach journey away, waking up just in time for the stop at the services, where our stop coincided with a load of Donny fans stopping off on their long journey to QPR. It was a real showdown; you could practically hear ‘2 Tribes’ playing in the background as we walked in.

After our stop off, the rest of the coach journey was spent trying to convince the missus that I was in no way to blame for her missing season ticket. Why do women always do that? Something that is nothing to do with me, in no way connected to me at all, and I’m getting the blame from hundreds of miles away. They’re classic, sometimes.

Anyway, we got to Reading with loads of time to spare. Last time we went to Reading, we also went on the coach, and it took us ages to get from the motorway to the ground, despite being able to actually see the stadium itself, because of traffic. This time, we got straight through and we were stood outside the ground at half one before the turnstiles were even open, gagging for the first pint of the day.

It took a while for the concourse to fill up, but it was a decent following. We caught up with a few familiar faces, and then headed up to the seats.

It’s not a bad ground, the Madejski Stadium, but it’s totally isolated in the middle of a massive industrial estate, meaning there’s very little around it unless you fancy a visit to Costco or B&Q. The ground itself is much like many other new designs, but it’s a tidy little stadium.

The players entered the pitch as the stadium announcer read our team out, and there were a few noticeable changes, such as Andy Gray being dropped for new signing Chris Wood, and Hugo starting for the first time since injury. The first thing we noticed as the players ambled over towards the travelling support was that MR had gone 4-4-2, something which we’ve all been crying out to see. Finally, MR seemed to be going for it away from home, rather than sitting back to snatch a point.

It’s needless to say, it didn’t work out at all.

Right from the off, we were on the back foot. Reading started much faster than us, with way more intent, and could easily have been two ahead in the opening 20 minutes but for some sloppy finishing and desperate defending. It seemed like we were defending a corner every five minutes, which would be bad for anyone, but much worse for a team who look more than a little shaky whenever the opponents have a chance to swing a cross in.

We took a sucker punch early on when Jay McEveley was the victim of a poor tackle, which went unpunished by the useless referee, which ended his afternoon early. The only player on the bench capable of stepping into the left back role was Luke Potter, barely recovered from surgery on his knee. Up against Jimmy Kebe, who was totally unplayable yesterday, it was a nightmare afternoon for the youngster, through no real fault of his own.

By half time, we were robbing a point from the home side.

Not that we hadn’t threatened, there was a moment when Adam Hammill was released down the right wing, with Garry O’Connor and Chris Wood bombing through the middle, unmarked. All that was needed was the right pass from Hammill, but he got it badly wrong, and we lost all the momentum. It would have been incredibly harsh on Reading though.

So 0-0 at half time, and we were very lucky. I would’ve taken that and gone home there and then, given the chance.

The players entered the field, and MR had made his second forced change of the day. Garry O’Connor had picked up a knock, and had to go off, meaning the stage was set for Andy Gray to enter the game. Only, Gray remained frustrated on the bench, with Nathan Doyle being the preferred option, meaning we were now playing with three holding midfielders. By this point, we’d accepted our best result would be to keep Reading out.

The change didn’t work, and the game continued in the same vain, with Reading bombarding us with cross after cross, corner after corner, and chance after chance. We threw everything in front of the ball, bodies were flying everywhere, it was real last ditch stuff, which isn’t what you want to be seeing after only 55 minutes of play.

And then came a moment which could have changed the whole complexion of the game. Reading defender Zurab Khizanishvili pulled Chris Wood back as the striker threatened to burst through, and was given his second yellow card of the day, giving us a man advantage. We wasted the resulting free kick, but this was the best chance we’d had to really get into the game, to put Reading on the back foot, to have our spell of pressure.

It lasted all of about 4 minutes, and then we were back to normal. Reading still dominated play, still murdered us on possession, continued to press for the opening goal. Only one team looked like they’d been reduced to ten men, and it wasn’t them.

The breakthrough always seemed like it was just around the corner, and after 79 minutes, a fantastic cross found the head of Jimmy Kebe, who had run the show all day, and he made no mistake in burying the ball past Steele. And after this, the game was over.

We pushed people forward, in hope rather than expectation, but when Ian Harte found the bottom corner with a free kick, we were dead and buried. To compound our misery, Reading scored a third from our free kick, breaking quickly on us, with most of our defence stranded up field, leaving Steele helpless again.

The Reading fans to our right were enjoying rubbing our noses in it now, and you couldn’t argue with them really. They’d been totally dominant and anything less than a convincing home win would have been totally unfair. But the sad fact is this; if you cannot take AT LEAST a point from a team who are down to 10 men, with only ten minutes on the clock and the score at 0-0, then you deserve very little. It’s a sad situation.

The full time whistle put us out of our misery, and I didn’t wait around to clap the players, which was just as well, since only a couple actually came over to face the away fans. Hammill looked totally gutted, walking off the pitch and one or two others were the same. But very few players take any credit from the game.

Shackell did ok in the circumstances, and Hammill was our most dangerous player by far. Steele made some decent saves, but still flapped at crosses, and his kicking was woeful. Hassell was caught out, unable to match the Reading wingers for pace, Potter was way too unfit to play, and Chris Wood didn’t look up to speed either. O’Connor didn’t get long enough, neither did McEveley, due to injuries. Basically, nobody really stood out. If forced, Hammill would get MOTM, but only due to the lack of competition.

The referee deserves a mention too, awful for both sides, totally inconsistent, and just frustrating in general.

Sitting on the coach was horrible, as we crawled through the masses of Reading fans leaving the ground, holding up three fingers and grinning smugly. Although one young lad made us laugh, doing some sort of crazy shadow boxing as he walked alongside the coach. But mainly, we just couldn’t wait to get away.

The journey home seemed much, much longer, and even the stop off at the services didn’t provide any relief. We actually got the piss took out of us by some meathead in a t-shirt 10 sizes too small, who’d obviously been working on his joke in readiness for seeing us Barnsley fans. It went something like “It’s just like watching Basil… (long pause whilst his group of mates look at each other, confused) Brush” Such wit. If only he put the same effort into his putdowns as he did gurning into the mirror topless, he could be in showbiz.

When we finally got home, I bypassed the Football League Show. I couldn’t face watching it again. It’s a performance that needs consigning to the bin, because it was shocking from start to finish.

Scunny is looking like a real prospect now, but we’ll have to win at some point away from home. Reading should act as a reality check, that perhaps we’re not all we think we are. The playoffs look a million miles off, and mid table obscurity is perhaps the best we’re going to get this season. Unless MR can find a way to get this side playing away from home, because I don’t think he knows himself yet. But he needs to figure it out soon, because we can’t rely only on home form to keep us from being dragged towards the wrong end of the table. Hopefully, we’ll see much better on Tuesday.

Thanks for reading.

Match 7: Derby County (H)

2010-09-19T12:11:00.027+01:00

After the performance on Tuesday night, it was always going to be a big ask hitting those heights again, and it proved so. But at least we got another point on the board. Truth be told, it could have been worse.

It was obvious we weren't gonna win this game. Absolutely nailed on. It isn't what we do; we don't beat the struggling teams at home. They can be rock bottom, not scoring, unable to defend, no chance of survival, and yet they're always guaranteed something when they make the trip to Oakwell. Every time I've thought about this game, all week, I've been feeling more and more like we weren't gonna win.

When I met up with the old man to set off to the game, I could see he was thinking the exact same thing. I blame this alarming lack of faith in our own team on Simon Davey.

Not that Derby are all as bad as that. They've had a bad start to the season, much like ourselves last time out. But the fact remains; when you're in the bottom three, no matter what time of the season, there's no better ground to travel to than Oakwell, because you're guaranteed we won't turn up.

As we headed to town, the sky was grey and the whole day felt like it was gonna be a let down. There's been so much positivity all week since the events of Tuesday, and many people thought that Derby would turn up simply to lose against us, but the closer we got to kick off, the less I fancied us.

We got to the Gatehouse at half 1, just in time to see Kylie Minogue's Greatest Hits on the telly. We've been going there for ages now, every other week, but the decision to get rid of Sky Sports is a poor one. Saturday afternoon is football time. There's a time and a place for Kylie and it just isn't right. Sadly I think it's time to change pubs on a Saturday afternoon. No Sky Sports = no sale.

Luckily we managed to find some entertainment by attracting the drunkest man in South Yorkshire over to our table. He was a Derby fan, and he had many questions for us; where was the nearest pub with the football on (he ignored our answer), how far the ground was from town (he ignored our answer), who our biggest rivals were (he ignored our answer) and how we felt our season had started (he ignored our answer). It wasn't all one way traffic though, we asked him how he felt about facing Jay McEveley again (he ignored the question), whether he though Nigel Clough was up to the job (he ignored the question), and how he thought the game would go (there was a pattern forming by this point). Sadly, the sizzling conversation had to end when the fella emptied his pint glass, and he left wishing us good luck, not before having a bizarre rant about how much he hates 'npower' and tripping over the step in the Gatehouse behind him. At least it provided an insight into just what I look like when I'm slightly worse for wear in some pub when we're away from home. I might take it steadier in future.

There were plenty of away fans milling around as we headed towards Oakwell but the atmosphere was flat in comparison to Tuesday, which we all expected to be fair. No disrespect to Derby, but it was a hard game to get excited about after such a gripping Yorkshire derby match.

So, the sky was still grey, the day was still miserable, and Oakwell was back to its 11,000 or so die-hards who were hopeful that we could take advantage of a side in poor form, and put ourselves into a playoff position by the end of the day.

The teams entered the field and took their positions for the start of the game. MR had gone with the same side that dismantled Leeds days earlier, whilst Derby made a couple of changes, including dropping Savage, which I was a bit gutted about. Giving Savage some stick when he comes to Oakwell is one of the moments in the season you take for granted, but miss when it's taken away from you. I hope he plays at Pride Park.

The game kicked off and Derby started in a similar way to Leeds, winning an early corner. Luke Steele gave us a brief glimpse of how his day was going to pan out, leaving his line and getting nowhere near the ball. Derby let us off this time, but we would be punished later.

In the opening exchanges, we looked good going forward, full of confidence, but we were giving them plenty of time on the ball and they looked dangerous. The goal, when it came, was soft for so many reasons. A cross hit Hassell in the face and span through to Steele, whose options were A) kick it as hard as he could up field, or B) pick it up, since it clearly wasn't an intentional backpass. Somehow, he managed to let the ball spin under his foot and out for a totally needless corner. To compound his misery, he then flapped spectacularly at the resulting delivery, and Kuqi put the ball back into the danger area, allowing Leacock to float a header over the stranded Steele and into the bottom corner. Steele laid on the floor with his head in his hands, his erratic behaviour costing us yet another goal. He knew what he'd done.

Moments later, Kris Commons had a goal disallowed for offside, but I was fearing the worst already.

As the half wore on, we weren't playing too badly, and as half time arrived we could easily have been level, with only some desperate Derby defending keeping our ArismendiHammill from a Jay McEveley corner. But at half time it was 0-1, and it was starting to feel like it just wasn't going to be our day.

At half time, the place seemed subdued, flat and unimpressed with what we'd seen. But we were still in the game, and only a bit of bad luck had kept us from equalising.

We managed to find the goal we needed after a couple of minutes of the second half, and it was Hammill again who got it, with a superb curling shot from just inside the area. Not long after, a low cross from Butterfield caused confusion in the box, but the ball was eventually blocked as Jim O'Brien lurked with an open goal gaping.

From then on, Derby were probably the better team, but it was the sort of game which really could've gone either way. Both sides had chances, both were wasteful. The vast majority of the second half was spent trying to guess what the referee was gonna do next. For both sides he was inconsistent, and the game became scrappy and untidy as both sides seemed to lose energy. By the end, both gaffers seemed to accept a point, which was probably fair on the whole, although Derby might disagree.

Steele did his best to donate another goal to the Derby cause when he spilled another routine cross, this time onto the post. McEveley eventually managed to get the ball clear, and through some miracle we remained level. I'm beginning to agree with the masses, we need another keeper. Preece is no competition for Luke, and he is constantly allowed to make these mistakes with no fear of punishment. Maybe if he knew his place was up for grabs he'd improve, but I doubt it. Unfortunately, as good a shot stopper as he is, he has cost us goals against QPR, Rochdale, Bristol City and now Derby. We're only two months into the season, and he's making it difficult for us. Yesterday I hated seeing the ball go anywhere near him, and every time Derby had a set piece, we looked nervous. Sorry Luke, but maybe a spell on the bench is the kick up the arse you need.

By the time the whistle had gone, a point had been inevitable for some time, and I was happy enough to take it and go home.

Butterfield was given MOTM and that was a fair decision, because he had a good game in the middle of the park, and will be unlucky not to keep his place ahead of Nathan Doyle or Hugo next week if MR decides to go defensive at Reading. Other than him, everyone else had quiet games, apart from Steele who was dreadful. But it was just one of those days, I never fancied us to win, and we never threatened to really. As my dad rightly pointed out after the game though, we probably would've lost that game last season, so progress is being made.

I don't think the table is being fair to Derby, they looked better than their position suggests. Certainly not the worst team to come to Oakwell this season. But they look shaky, low on confidence and seemed to panic when we got at them, which we just didn't do enough. I don't think they'll go down this season, although reading some of their forums, it would seem they don't agree with that.

Onwards to the Madejski then, home of Michael Parkinson's beloved Reading. It's a tough game to predict. They've not started too quickly this season, but then again, neither have we away from home. They're without Brian Howard after he was sent off yesterday, but have the potential to have a good season. The worry is whether MR will go there to the Madejski with a defensive mindset, with two defensive midfielders, and try to stop them playing rather than concentrate on getting us going. We've proven that we can beat teams if we get at them, I hope MR shows that faith in his players.

One thing is for sure though, we need to pick some points up on the road, because the more games we lose away, the more pressure we put on ourselves to keep winning all our home games. That said, I'd be happy to take 4 points from the next 2 on our travels, and keep pushing up the table.

Thanks for reading.

Match 6: Leeds United (H)

2010-09-15T17:56:00.000+01:00

There's few fixtures in a football calendar that have such an effect on me as Leeds.

Maybe Sheffield Wednesday. And Sheffield United. Donny too. Alright, there's a few actually, most of them local derbies. But this one is worse than most.

Since the fixtures were announced, I've been cautiously eyeing this one, dreading the day. Even throughout the opening month of the season, whilst we've been steadily improving and picking up points at a rate we could only dream about this time last year, Leeds have always been in the back of my mind, haunting me.

Needless to say then, the long day at work was torturous. It's one thing working with a bunch of Leeds fans, it's quite another being within the shadow of Elland Road. If you look through our double doors and squint hard enough, you can practically see the dodgy paintwork peeling from the John Charles stand (I'm reliably told it's called that). It's fair to say, there were much more than 3 points at stake tonight, certainly for me. Barnsley had to win me this game.

Luckily, I have a very understanding missus, who realises how horrible playing Leeds is, and, knowing how nervy I was, she made the ultimate sacrifice (for her, anyway) and sent me a picture of the young 'un, sitting in his Barnsley home shirt, holding a handwritten sign (written by the missus, not him) saying "We All Hate Leeds Scum". It's remarkable how happy it made me, not least showing it to the lads at work. For a Wednesday fan to take that hit, she showed incredible selflessness.

As the time to set off approached, I was swaying back and forth about how I felt it was gonna go. I didn't fear Leeds as a team; they have a squad no better than ours on paper, and they're still adjusting to this league, even if they appear to be doing so with more ease than anyone had hoped. It's the thought of losing to them, much worse than the actual event itself.

We set off straight from work to try and avoid the rush for parking spaces around Ponty Road, given the massive crowd expected at Oakwell. Especially since these days, they've stopped folk from parking on the main road, which seems pointless. By half six, we were in the Old Hoyle Inn, having already been to the box office and purchased tickets to Glanford Park in a couple of weeks time.

Already there was a buzz around Oakwell. The place was heaving, cars queueing all the way back, trying to find a space, and the pub was packed out of the door. I can't imagine what being in town was like, but I was a bit gutted we didn't get the chance to find out. It's one thing you miss more than most during the pre-season; the feel of a Yorkshire derby, it really gets the blood boiling.

Since we were in the car, and given the expected atmosphere at the ground, we set off from the pub earlier than normal. We wanted to be there when the players came out of the tunnel, to let them know that despite the large contingent of away fans making the short journey, we were behind them.

The whole ground looked fantastic full, and the crowd was building, as was the noise. The Leeds fans were in good voice, and the home fans were responding. By this time, I was just ready for the kick off. As the players entered the field, all four ends of the ground stood as one, singing, clapping, ready for a blood and thunder match. It's what it should be like, if only we could get Oakwell like this every week, it'd be an incredibly intimidating place for away teams to come and play.

We kicked off, and almost immediately we were behind. A sloppy goal from a routine corner, much like when we played Man Utd in the Carling Cup last season. It was a good finish from the lad Howson, but it killed the atmosphere in the Ponty End, and knocked the wind out of us.

At the other end, the Leeds fans were bouncing, or "going mental" as they put it. What a retro chant that is, I've not heard it in ages. I was beginning to fear the worst.

To our credit, as the first half wore on though, we took control and dominated play. But, worryingly, we didn't look like scoring. Hammill hit a decent shot which flew the wrong side of the post, but it didn't seem to be dropping for us. Even Foster had a shot cleared off the line, and it was really looking like we weren't gonna score. But Hammill was growing into the game, and he dragged us back into it with a superb run and cross for debutant Garry O'Connor to hit home. It was deserved on the balance of play, although Leeds still looked dangerous on the break. It remained 1-1 until half time.

My nerves had just about held up throughout a pulsating first half, but I found myself dreading the second half starting. Is football supposed to feel like this? I thought it was supposed to be enjoyable.

Leeds were quickest out of the blocks again as the second period got underway, and could have gone ahead again after a low ball across the box caused havoc, but we somehow survived and began to look the better side.

And then it happened. The moment when, finally, everything clicked into place. Hammill, who was unplayable last night, raced into the box and squared the ball for Jim O'Brien. It didn't look like the Scottish winger would get to the ball, but it somehow squirmed underneath the keeper and Jimmy was on hand to tap the ball home. The Ponty End went mad, and finally we had the lead we'd deserved on the balance of play.

When Andy Gray missed that golden opportunity to make it 3-1, and dragged his shot wide, you could hear the collective murmur of "Will we regret that miss?". I was terrified they'd hit back and punish our wastefulness.

But they didn't, and when Arismendi showed lightening reactions after the Leeds keeper flapped at a corner and turned the ball in from an acute angle, we were in control. You could feel the relief around the stadium.

And then we turned on the style, big time. We launched wave after wave of attack, and still managed to repel any quick Leeds breaks. They still looked like they had a goal in them, which was worrying, but when Jay McEveley whipped a cross into the box, the Leeds defender could only divert the ball past his own keeper, putting the game beyond Leeds. A minute later, Hammill got the goal his performance had deserved, running at the Leeds defence and hitting a cracking drive past the keeper. By this point, it was brilliant to be in the crowd, singing 'It's Just Like Watching Brazil' at the top of our lungs, such a fantastic moment. It's been so long since we've felt like that, and hearing the whole crowd sing this will stick in the memory for a long time.

Even the late goal Leeds scored couldn't take the gloss off this one.

The full time whistle went after 5 minutes of stoppage time. To give the Leeds fans their credit, more had stayed until the end than I expected would, and they had tried to enjoy their night despite the defeat. It's not like we can't relate, think back to Newcastle away last season and our drubbing at St James Park.

Needless to say, the drive home was bliss. Listening to a clearly overjoyed MR on Radio Sheffield was great, as was hearing about the Blunts totally crumbling at home to Scunny. Add to that sitting in traffic, watching the police escorting the Leeds fans away from Oakwell, whilst a young lad stood and waved a Barnsley flag at every single coach that went by. Given that there were about 20 coaches at least, the lad showed real dedication.

I've quite enjoyed being at work today too. The Leeds fans have been a bit quiet though.

It's no exaggeration to say that every player was outstanding last night. Hammill got MOTM, although O'Connor had a stormer too. He oozes Premiership class, that lad, and even after one game I hope we can keep him for longer than the month we've got him. All the defence stood up to Leeds well, Arismendi dominated in midfield despite taking an early knock on the head. Basically, everyone played well, and they earned that win together.

Leeds didn't look a terrible side, but their defensive performance was poor and they could easily have conceded more than they did. Much like Norwich on Saturday, they look a decent side and I can't see them struggling, but I don't think they'll get promoted either.

So, 7th in the league, best start since our infamous promotion season of 1996/97, hard not to get too carried away isn't it? But Derby is another test, another chance to show how far we've come. They've had a less than impressive start to the season, and sit in the bottom three. Given how we've performed in our three games at Oakwell so far, it's very winnable, especially if we play like we did last night again. For now though, I'm gonna continue enjoying the events of last night. It could be a long time before we all leave Oakwell feeling that good again.

Thanks for reading.

Match 5: Norwich City (A)

2010-09-12T19:24:00.001+01:00

Ah, Carrow Road. Another of the many grounds on our list of places we just cannot get anything from. Usually it's a beating when we travel to Norwich, but yesterday we came agonisingly close to finally getting something. I think that's what stings the most. I'd have preferred the beating.

It's been a few weeks since the last entry on this blog, and plenty has happened. We got a respectable point at Ashton Gate, despite leading 2-0 and 3-1, and then beat McBoro at Oakwell with a fine performance. And of course, on Friday night we confirmed the promising signing of Garry O'Connor from Birmingham, who was ineligible to play against the Canaries. So for the first time ever, we headed to Norfolk in confident mood. I really fancied us to get something yesterday.

And we deserved to. Perhaps not all three points, but certainly something.

We set off at the crack of dawn for the gruelling three and a half hour drive to the ground, only stopping for a full English breakfast half way there, which certainly hit the spot. Sitting in the car for that long is mind-numbingly boring and uncomfortable. A few times I wondered why we were even bothering, since our record at Norwich is so poor. We've not won there since 1937. When I told my dad this, he had a look in his eye which suggested he too was thinking about turning the car around and heading home.

The most annoying part of the journey is all the country roads you have to take to get there. We got stuck behind horse boxes, tractors, rickshaws, you name it, we tailed it. And everywhere you turn, there's a speed camera, hiding behind trees, or road signs, always waiting to catch you out. It's infuriating.

But we stuck with it, and landed in Norwich at about 1, and found some parking just around the corner from the ground, behind the train station. The bloke taking the money in the car park was friendly, stopping us for a chat and directing us to the Compleat Angler, suggesting that most away fans would be heading there too. He also gave us in-depth instructions on how to get from the pub to the ground, and then from the ground to the car park again, which was probably a total waste of time since we'd forgotten what he'd said before we'd even left the car park, but it's the thought that counts.

Norwich is a really nice place. It's a lovely city and was nice to walk around, despite us only seeing a brief glimpse of it. And in terms of a football day out, it's perfect; pubs everywhere you turn, a friendly, relaxed atmosphere with home fans who are always willing to stop and have a chat, and plenty of places to eat in the area too. All on the doorstep of the train station. You really couldn't ask for any more.

On the way, we bumped into a lad and his son heading for a pub just over the road from where we were going, so we tagged along with them and had a chat about the season. He seemed confident enough, but worried that they wouldn't be able to keep hold of Paul Lambert for much longer. To be fair, it could well be a problem we'll face with MR.

Throughout the above conversation, the young lad was waving his Norwich scarf about, singing about how they were gonna "thrash the Tykes" which didn't help my nerves. And he wasn't just waving the scarf about, he was waving it dangerously close to my head. I looked like something out of The Matrix, dodging and weaving, desperately trying to avoid a face full of scarf. Still, we managed to find our way to the pub without almost any help, and got nicely settled underneath the tv with a pint.

The tv was showing footage of the September 11th remembrance service in New York, which was pretty sobering stuff. And the sun, which had been shining brightly all morning, had now vanished and the rain was lashing down. We stayed for a couple of pints, but we weren't there long and soon headed to the ground.

We did our usual trick of being at the furthest point away from the away end when we reached Carrow Road, and walked the whole length of the ground before we finally got through the turnstiles and into the concourse, before heading to our seats.

There's something just universally wrong with not sitting behind the goal when you're away from home. I don't like these grounds that sit the away fans along the side. It's just not the same.

The ground itself was nice, with four decent stands and a good, enclosed atmosphere. The hotel to the right of the away fans is a bit strange, and probably cheaper than the tickets if you were to get a room and watch the game from the window, but I liked Carrow Road on the whole. The only gripe would be the home fans seeming rather subdued for most of the game yesterday.

As kick off approached, there was a nice tribute to Roy Waller, a broadcaster for BBC Norfolk, which was brilliantly observed by both sets of fans, a nice touch. And then it was time for kick off. Time to end many, many years of agony, and finally take some points back to Oakwell.

That was the plan, and it nearly came off. We more than held our own in the first half, although we didn't create much of note in terms of chances, but that said neither did Norwich. They had a couple of free kicks given in decent areas by the referee, but wasted them with wayward shooting. Overall, aside from a couple of nervy moments, we were good value for a 0-0 half time scoreline.

Apart from, of course, we scored with seconds left of the half, after winning a free kick deep in Norwich territory. The ball was swung in perfectly by Trippier and McEveley thumped home the header, sending the away support delirious. The travelling support had been brilliant all the way through, never stopping singing, and we certainly enjoyed this moment. Not long after, the whistle went and we had a half team lead that we perhaps didn't fully deserve.

At half time Norwich sent out their girls academy to wave to the crowd, and Jim O'Brien won the award for funniest moment of the day by joining in with them, giving a camp wave to the crowd. The most worrying thing was that he didn't look too out of place.

We started the second half well, and could have had a second goal when Gray was bundled to the ground trying to latch onto a ball from McEveley, with Hammill skying the resulting chance. Gavin Ward waved away the protests. He's already a hate figure for Barnsley fans, and this performance won't have done anything to endear him to us anymore, as he gave a string of poor decisions against both sides. There's too many examples of just how shite he actually was, so I won't list them.

Indeed, he played a part in the first goal, by sending Shackell from the pitch for an injury the skipper didn't have. During his time off the field, Norwich took full advantage, with the help of a desperately unlucky Stephen Foster, and levelled the game.

There's a worrying trend developing with us at the moment, and that's us losing our heads whenever we concede a goal. At QPR we totally lost it after going 2-0 down, and Bristol City scored twice in minutes at Ashton Gate. Here it happened again.

After Norwich had equalised, they were the only ones going to score again. Our heads went down, passes started going astray, players looked less confident on the ball, we lost our shape, and ultimately the game. The winner came from a cross that we didn't deal with, and Chris Martin wasn't closed down by Hassell quick enough, giving him ample time to pick his spot. And after they took the lead, the game was over.

More worryingly, a few players seemed to be limping around the pitch, complaining of cramp. For some reason, it seems our fitness levels aren't up to scratch, and this could be something to do with why we've thrown a couple of leads away in the second half.

As I said, we never truly threatened again as the game drew to a close. This was summed up perfectly when Jim O'Brien winning a free kick deep in Norwich territory, which McEveley insisted on taking, and promptly spooned well, well over the bar and out of play. Our performance was ending with a whimper.

At full time, the players surrounded the referee, who'd had a dreadful game, and protested in vain. It's already becoming a depressingly regular sight. But he only takes a portion of the blame, because overall we didn't do enough to win the game. I still think a point would have been a fairer result, but us winning would've been harsh on a decent Norwich side who will probably beat better sides than us at home this season.

We headed away from the ground, trying to ignore the celebrations around us. We'd given the Norwich fans some real stick all the way through the game, so it was obvious we were getting it back now they'd turned the game around and taken maximum points. By the time we got back to the car, the traffic was backed up for miles and it took us ages to get away from the ground. That settled it; next time, assuming both our sides are in the same division next season, it's gonna have to be a train journey rather than a car.

The route home was long and tiring, and seemed to take ages longer than the journey there, even without a stop off. I spent most of the journey home yelling at Robbie Savage on the radio, since he was talking pure crap the entire time. Honestly, how can he seriously have a career in the media? He's the most annoying man in football.

And so we arrived home, tired, miserable, totally fed up and beaten yet again. Our away form hasn't been brilliant so far this season, and this is something which needs to change sooner rather than later.

Some players really didn't impress today. Hassell had a few shaky moments at the back, and wasted a good chance in the second half to play the ball out wide, instead going for a speculative effort from 30-odd yards out which sailed miles over the bar. Lovre was poor too, looking well below the pace of the game, and his partnership with Gray didn't work yesterday. Hammill was frustrating too, trying too hard to recreate his goal against Boro and eventually being crowded out every time. But there were positives too, it's just hard to see them when you've watched your team throw the lead away.

MR has to take some stick too, because his changes came way too late. O'Brien only got a few minutes, which could be down to his fitness, but the game was crying out for changes in the second half. They just didn't come quick enough.

Anyhow, we move on, and the next game should be a very interesting one. Leeds have started well, and come to Oakwell backed by an away support of nearly 7,000 so we're gonna have to up our game. If I'm honest, I can see a couple of changes being made. I think O'Brien will start, and Garry O'Connor too. It would have been nice to look at the table today and see us sitting pretty in the playoffs, instead of Norwich, but it wasn't to be. Lets hope we can put it right on Tuesday night.

Thanks for reading.

Match 2: Crystal Palace (H)

2010-08-16T09:45:00.000+01:00

Our season finally started on Saturday with that much-needed win. I knew they wouldn't let me down...

Like many people, I've been finding it hard to get excited since that start. After a summer of hype and expectation, it was such a kick in the teeth to be rock bottom again, and out of the Carling Cup after just one week of the season. But today it feels a little brighter again. There's still work to be done, we're far from firing on all cylinders. But it's all you can ask for; a clean sheet, a home win and our first goal of the season, even if it came from the boot of a Palace player.

We decided to head off early to this one, to get a new home shirt before the game. I don't know how long we expected this would take, but it meant that by half eleven me and my dad were kitted out in the new shirt, ready for the pub. Not before a nice, big bacon, egg and tomato sarnie though. Ooft, it went down a treat. I can see that becoming a tradition. Especially since we won, I'm a sucker for a superstition.

By the time the Spurs game had started, a fair few beers had been sunk. I'd spoken to the missus, who'd set off for Colchester about 3 hours after we began our journey, and yet somehow managed to make it on time. She's also managed to track Odejayi down before the game for a photo, something which she's threatening to have framed and the lot.

It was almost time to set off to the ground, so we downed drinks and joined the masses. We didn't see many Palace fans around, which is strange since they brought quite a few more than they usually do. It's a shame we didn't manage to have a chat with a few away fans. Palace are a funny side to predict, and nobody is quite sure what they're capable of. They've got a good manager in George Burley, and their season started well with a good win over Leicester. I don't think anyone was expecting a comfortable home win.

Walking with the crowd, towards Oakwell, I've missed that feeling. These friendlies and that cup game just can't compete with the real thing, a home league fixture. The closer we got to the ground, the more eager I was for this game to start.

We got into our seats, just in time for the teams being announced. It's fair to say it wasn't a team many folk were expecting, with Foster playing through concussion and Arismendi making his debut in place of Nathan Doyle. And no mention of Iain Hume either, not even on the bench. I've not heard about an injury for him, and after hearing rumours of MR being told to offload him, maybe his time at Oakwell is coming to an end?

The game kicked off, and it was pretty even. Right from the off it was clear this wasn't gonna be a game of chances. Palace looked solid, well organised and tight, and so did we. We had a couple of early chances, but the game took a while to start.

But we got our noses in front just after half an hour, after a good team move. Colace and Arismendi both linked well before the ball found its way to Jay McEveley, whose low cross was fantastic and forced the Palace defender into action. Unluckily for him, his attempted clearance flew past Speroni, and it was 1-0.

After the first goal, we took control and before half time could and should have had a penalty, after Hammill was felled in the area. But we didn't get it, and it remained 1-0 at half time.

Up to this point, the referee had been incredibly fussy and not allowed the game to flow. He got worse as the game went on.

In the second half, Palace brought Danns on and he certainly had an impact on the game. He looked very lively, and gave the visitors a bit more threat. But they still didn't look like scoring. And, aside from a few long range chances, neither did we. The game fizzled out, with another shout for a home penalty waved away by the official, although the second one would have been harsh. As full time approached, the result was looking more and more safe.

Darren Ambrose had wasted a couple of free kicks throughout the game, and in the third minute of stoppage time he launched one straight into the face of Goran Lovre. The force knocked him clean out, and he was receiving treatment for a good five minutes. Whilst he was down, apparently a few chants in bad taste were heard from the away end, and when Lovre had left the field and Doyle was given the chance to play the ball back to Palace, he instead opted to launch the ball deep into their territory and out for a throw in, much to the disgust of the Palace players. It was a nasty end to the game, and apparently Doyle continued the hostilities after the final whistle with the away crowd.

Anyway, we held out for a vital win. To be fair, we never looked in much danger. The important thing is the 3 points.

The man of the match went to Keiron Trippier, but I think a few others could have staked their claim. McEveley really had his moments, and Arismendi was impressive. And Lovre looked good too, probably the best since he signed for the club. And it's great to hear that Goran is out of hospital and getting better.

We nipped into town for a celebratory beer after the game, and the icing on the cake was the news of Blackwell being sacked at Sheffield United. Such a shame, he's been doing a great job turning them into a laughing stock. Also, Blackpool winning 4-0 was a great scoreline, I really hope the Seasiders can stay up this season.

The missus tried to mess with my head by texting me telling me MR had been linked with the Bramall Lane job. I know now there's no truth in the rumour, but at the time it was a worrying few moments.

Anyway, we move on. Bristol City away is a difficult fixture, and sadly I won't be there to see it, due to family commitments. So for me next, it's Boro at home, hopefully after a fine away win. Given what's gone on at Ashton Gate this last week, we could surprise a few people there and take our first away win of the season. Like I said before, the season starts here.

Thanks for reading.

Carling Cup Round One: Rochdale (H)

2010-08-11T10:44:00.000+01:00

There was no bad luck to blame tonight, and no poor refereeing. We just didn't play well enough, and deserved everything we got.

It'd be easy to dismiss the match as a nothing game, in a tournament nobody really worries too much about. But the signs were rather grim tonight. That was an almost full strength line-up, and MR clearly sent out a side to win that game. And in truth, we never really came close.

After enduring a thoroughly miserable day yesterday, and with the weekends flattening by QPR still fresh on the mind, I genuinely wasn't looking forward to this game. Which is unlike me, since I ALWAYS look forward to games, whether they're league, cup or even just a friendly. I felt lethargic, uninspired, and basically totally in the wrong frame of mind for football.

And yet I forced myself to go, and now I'm regretting the decision, because I'd have been better fixed keeping that extortionate amount of money I was charged in my pocket, and saving it for another day.

I think everyone else must have felt the same as me, because as we arrived at the ground, it felt like a morgue. We weren't especially late, but nobody seemed to be milling around. Maybe the result at the weekend put a few people off, but it was clear already that it wasn't a fixture that was going to attract a bumper crowd. It was a long time before we saw anyone in a Reds shirt wandering around outside Oakwell.

We made the decision to head for the East stand for a change, so got ourselves set up with a pie and a pint, ready for the game. The place still looked empty, like a ghost town, and it felt like a pre-season friendly really. The closer we got to kick off, the more I was dreading the game.

Rochdale were always going to be a difficult task for us, after earning promotion last season. You got the feeling they'd be well up for knocking us out and taking a Championship scalp. But when the team sheet was read out, my mind was put at rest. MR had clearly chosen a strong starting eleven, so winning this game was obviously the intention.

Sitting in the East stand, I was inevitably caught out by the sun again. You'd think I'd learnt my lesson after the Wednesday friendly, but I totally forgot, and spent the early part of the game covering my eyes. Actually, maybe that wouldn't have been a bad idea for the whole 90 minutes.

The game kicked off and we started ok, seeing a lot of the ball. Butterfield especially was in possession a lot in midfield, but couldn't really dictate play. The most worrying aspect was the lack of the killer instinct, the inability to play the final ball, to create clear cut chances. Whenever we got within 5 yards of the Rochdale box, we panicked, began looking backwards, passing ourselves out of good, strong positions. It was frustrating to watch.

We're crying out for an attacking midfielder, who picks the ball up and drives us forward, who is unafraid to look up and ping a shot at goal if he doesn't have a better option. Brian Howard was probably the last, and Butterfield has only done it in flashes, certainly not enough last night.

We had a couple of sights of goal, such as Hammill hitting one straight at the keeper, but as the half wore on, Rochdale started getting a foothold in the game, and had a couple of decent chances themselves. Their big lad on the left hand side looked dangerous, although Trippier coped admirably well with him in his first appearance since coming back to us on loan. It looked like a total mismatch, but the young lad from City was always on his heels, snapping at him and not letting him settle in the game.

As half time arrived, there was some booing, not much, but enough for the players to hear as they trudged off the pitch. MR needed to give them a kick up the arse in the changing room.

I went into the concourse, since I'd decided in my infinite wisdom to wear only a thin shirt, and it had suddenly become rather cold watching that flat first half. I found myself wishing the sun would come back.

It didn't, and as the sky got darker and darker, so did the performance. Desperation set in, and long balls started pumping forward, without success. Hume and Devaney came on, with the latter making a real impact. Disco was on fire, running at defenders, twisting and turning, something which we sorely missed in the first half. Hume worked hard, as usual, but didn't cope well with the aerial bombardment we were throwing up from the back.

And then the unthinkable happened, right when the crowd were really beginning to get on the players backs; Rochdale scored. And Luke Steele, yet again, was totally at fault, letting a seemingly harmless header squirm through his hands and into the bottom corner. I like Luke, he's a great shot stopper, but if he doesn't cut these silly, costly mistakes out, then he's got to go. It's too frequent, and it's costing us goals. Luckily for him, and unluckily for us, there's no real competition for his place, other than the hapless Preece, so he's safe.

To be honest, after the first went in, Rochdale took over, and for a good 10-15 minute spell after that, they should have doubled their lead at least. That's the second game in a row where we've gone behind and lost our heads, and we should have been punished.

Quite how their lad missed that chance at the back post, with the whole goal gaping, I'll never know. From where I was, it looked a certain goal. But we survived.

As the clocked ticked over 70 minutes, we started putting pressure on Rochdale, albeit without really looking like scoring. Long balls were being pumped towards Hume whilst Liam Dickinson stood behind him. Why do we always do that?

But we looked susceptible to being caught on the break, and Rochdale missed a couple of good chances. It was real end to end stuff.

Dickinson missed our best chance of the night, after a low cross into the area landed at his feet, but he managed to scuff his shot out of play. The jeers were deafening, or as deafening as they can be from a dismal, uninspired 4,000 crowd.

Stoppage time came and went, with us pressuring but never looking like getting the goal that would've taken the tie into extra time. Ironically, the closest we came was when Hassell came on, and headed straight at the keeper from a corner. It's a depressing thought when your right back is the main goal threat. I found myself hoping we didn't score; I was cold, tired, fed up and totally against the thought of sitting through another 30 minutes of what I'd just seen. After a lifetime of added time, the referee blew the whistle and it was over.

Another Carling Cup ending to lower league opposition in the first round.

Not that exiting the cup bothers me. We're not gonna win it, and even if you get a big draw, it's usually a reserve team that you end up playing on some cold Tuesday night anyway. But the manner of the performance causes worry. We just didn't look up to it.

Our opponents deserve credit. At times they played some good stuff, and defended stoutly in the face of some lacklustre Barnsley attacking. Overall, we dominated possession but it could really have gone either way. I certainly won't begrudge them their win. They looked a tidy side, and if they play like that all season, might surprise a few people in League One.

A few came out with some credit last night. Doyle had a good game, which is good to see, since the lad takes a lot of stick. Trippier also looked good, as did Disco when he came on. And Hammill wasn't bad either, and had a few pot shots from distance as we desperately searched for an equaliser. But a few were suspect again; McEveley still hasn't settled into his role, much like Lovre, who looks slow at times. And Steele is becoming more and more at risk, another erratic display from him. Dickinson also hasn't won the crowd over, and a goal last night would've helped his confidence no end, but he fluffed his lines. Even Shackell, who I personally thought looked immense throughout pre-season, has started showing some cracks. We need serious improvement.

The pressure is growing on MR. 12 without win, stretching back to last season, is an intimidating statistic for the gaffer to have hanging over him. But this is a new team. I'm willing to let him off with 10 of those games. The last 2, however, have been poor, and MR will himself be aware of how much we need a morale-boosting win on Saturday against Crystal Palace. Maybe then our season can start properly.

Thanks for reading.

Match 1: Queens Park Rangers (A)

2010-08-08T12:13:00.000+01:00

This is a difficult write-up today. I've had a chance to calm down from yesterday, but the feeling of injustice and anger is still there, still fresh in the memory.

You can only ask for a few things on the opening day of the season; nice weather, a good atmosphere, a buzz surrounding the game, these are the sort of things that make a good away day great.

QPR had all these things yesterday, and yet the game was totally ruined by a referee who had no intention of being consistent for both teams, and only wanted one thing; his name in the headlines, his brief moment of fame. He got that, whilst the rest of us, who spent a lot of money and energy travelling to Loftus Road, were shafted.

It was a brilliant day all the way up to the game. We arrived in Shepherds Bush in plenty of time somehow (I'm not fantastic with those bloody Tube lines), and were sat in O'Neills for 1:00. And the atmosphere built and built as the afternoon went on. The pub was full of Barnsley fans, singing and enjoying the occasion. It began to feel like maybe we could do something this time around, that it could be our year.

It was the first time I'd been to QPR and I've got to say, as far as away games go, I enjoyed the whole pre-match build up. I had been gutted when we got these away on the opening day, I was hoping for an away game a bit closer to home. But in all honesty, after experiencing the day out, I'd be glad to come back, and if our two sides are competing in the same division next year, I'll definitely be making this one in again.

By the time we set off for the ground, I was beginning to believe we were gonna do it. We never win at Loftus Road, we all know this by now, but eventually that record will have to change, and why not this time? Optimism is high, there's a feeling around this team that we're ready to make a step up in this division and show a few people up. Pundits have written us of, as have opposition fans, but why should that bother us? Maybe it was just the beer talking, but I was convinced we were gonna win this game.

We arrived at the ground with plenty of time to spare. It's a strange ground, looking a bit like a shoebox, the stands are almost exactly the same height all the way around. And it's steep too, with little leg room. But I liked it, it is a nice ground, traditional and with a low roof meaning a real atmosphere can be created by the away fans. It certainly was yesterday, we sang right from the start and only stopped when it became clear we were witnessing something bizarre unfold before our eyes.

The game kicked off, us lining up with Gray alone up front as expected, and it became obvious early on that we had a bit of a clown in charge of the game. The early signs were there; whistling for every little niggling challenge, not allowing the game to flow at all. He gave a free kick inside the QPR half after a stunning tackle by Doyle, the midfielder clearly playing the ball, and Doyle was rightly furious with the decision, spending a good five minutes harassing the referee, way after play had continued. They were the warning signs, and sure enough the referee got his moment just before half time.

I missed the first penalty incident. I had nipped into the concourse and was replying to a message from the missus asking how it was going. I texted her back saying 'Still 0-0, referee is useless though'. The moment I pressed send, a cheer went up from the home crowd, not the sort of cheer a goal would bring, but a cheer nonetheless. It was obviously a penalty, and sure enough, as I rushed back up to my seat, Helguson was stood over the ball on the spot, and calmly rolled it into the net for 1-0. The folk around me insisted it wasn't a penalty, but I've still not seen it so won't pass judgement just yet. What I would say is, the referee was always gonna give them a decision like that. I'm told he couldn't get to his whistle quick enough.

What a kick in the teeth. We were playing ok, not our best, not the brilliant passing football we'd seen in pre-season, but we were growing into the game. But goals can change that, and it was now a case of how we'd react to being behind.

We could have nicked ourselves level right before the half time whistle, when new QPR keeper Kenny made a hash of a clearance and Colace hit a screamer from a long way out. Sitting behind this as it happened, it looked like it was sailing into the top corner, with Kenny nowhere in sight, before swerving onto the woodwork and away. At this point, it was already feeling like it wasn't gonna go in for us.

At half time, the players surrounded the referee to protest, but obviously it was in vain. The crowd seemed a bit subdued now, like we knew that going in at half time could have been the moment which changed the game.

But we came out after half time with renewed vigour, and could have levelled after some good work from Lovre and half time sub Hume teed up Hammill, who saw his shot hit the post. It looked for all the world like it was going into the back of the net, but again, luck deserted us at the crucial time.

Barnsley fans. The ref, who was already the pantomime villain, became much more than that with his failure to award us a clear penalty of our own, when Fitz Hall threw his hand high into the air and punched a Steve Foster header. Loftus Road fell silent, and the home fans knew. Colin knew on the touchline. And we all knew behind the goal. The only two people who didn't know were the referee and his linesman, who didn't give the protest a second glance.

The feeling high in the Loftus Road stand was one of disbelief. People shouted, screamed, jumped up and down like mad men. But the referee turned his back and jogged away, leaving the wrath behind him. It was the big moment in the game, and he'd blatantly ignored it had even happened.

Of course, minutes later QPR went up the other end and scored the second, to rub salt into a very raw wound. Paddy Kenny, who had been getting abuse from the away crowd (as usual) turned and leapt into the air, clenching his fists with delight. This was all it took to further antagonize an already tense away crowd, and objects began to shower out of the sky towards the keeper. Bottles of Carlsberg, lighters and coins littered the pitch. It's disappointing to see, and something which could well land us in trouble. Anyone who has stood and sung about his wife (I did it) should be able to take a bit of stick back when it comes your way, that's part of the game.

Anyway, it was 2-0, and the game was over as a contest, the referee had made sure of that. At this point, our heads went down, and QPR took control. From this moment on, there was only gonna be more goals for the home side.

And so it proved, although the referee continued his bizarre afternoon for the third goal, another penalty, although this time he disallowed a QPR goal to bring play back. It didn't matter, since they scored anyway, but it kept in tone with the rest of his performance.

By the end, QPR had scored again to make it 4-0, and it could have been 6 or 7. But it was harsh on the players because up until the second goal, they'd been more than in the game, and it's such a shame to see all their hard work from pre-season, and all their confidence, gone in the space of ninety minutes.

As the full time whistle approached, the away end was looking more and more empty, but we stayed until the end just to see what would happen next. Those who stayed seemed to have saved most of their anger and frustration for the referee, rather than the players, which is fair enough since we didn't perform as badly as the scoreline suggests.

Neil Warnock and his players were immediately over to the officials on full time, shaking hands and putting arms around each other, congratulatory arms round for a job well done. Paddy Kenny continued to pick up objects which were still being thrown at him by the crowd. It had descended into chaos by this point, so we made our move back to O'Neills to drown our sorrows.

Walking through the throngs of home fans was difficult, listening to their analysis of the game. It's hard to remember sometimes that they, like us, have no control over what will happen in the match. They don't know if the ref will treat them kindly, or simply pretend they aren't on the pitch. Next week, they could be feeling just like we do now. We ended up talking to a couple in the pub who were really nice, and offered us some sympathy for what we'd just seen. It was a good end to the day, which had been spoiled by what had happened on the pitch.

We got the train home and fell straight to sleep, the stress of the day finally catching up with us. My voice was going last night, and has all but gone today from the shouting and screaming. And the feeling of injustice is still there, although writing this has been somewhat therapeutic.

Up next is Rochdale, but nobody really cares about the Carling Cup. We're looking to another London club next week, Crystal Palace, knowing that the pressure to get the first win is really on. It's horrible to look at the table and see us bottom again, knowing that those who've predicted our demise without so much as doing any research into who we've signed or how we've performed over the summer are sitting, looking smugly at the table and saying 'told you so'. But it's early days, it means nothing at this stage. Look at Norwich last season, or Burnley the year before. Lots can change. Sadly, in terms of the standard of refereeing in our games, some things never do.

Thanks for reading.

Pre-season: Chesterfield (A)

2010-08-01T12:09:00.000+01:00

That's it then. The fun stuff is over. This time next week, we'll have a much better idea of just how far we've come.

It's the end of a pre-season in which we've looked a much better unit, although still not quite the finished article. We've been solid at the back and willing to knock the ball around more. Our new signings, for the most part, seem to have slotted expertly into their new roles. Basically, as far as preparations go, it's been plain sailing.

I just hope we can carry all this into the new season.

Of course, there's no better way to sign off the close season, and prepare for Loftus Road, than with a win. With the added bonus of seeing a new ground for the first time, before it gets its inaugural taste of competitive football when Barnet visit the b2net stadium in a weeks time.

I hope Barnet find the place easier than we did. Having visited the Chesterfield website and been given a postcode which was specifically for those of us who were obediently following the directions of our sat-navs, we made the mistake of assuming the ground would be easy to find. It proved not to be the case, as the sat-nav left us stranded in the middle of a roundabout, somewhere in Chesterfield town centre.

Luckily, after all but abandoning the car in a multistory car park and deciding to simply walk roughly in the direction the sat-nav had been heading, we passed a couple of Chesterfield fans waiting at a bus stop, who flagged us over and informed us of a free bus service directly to the ground. We didn't need a second invitation, and hopped on the first bus with them.

The ground was only a 5 minute journey away, so we had a quick chat about the upcoming season. These Spireite fans didn't seem too positive, looking to the new season in hope rather than expectation. They also seemed unhappy with their gaffer, John Sheridan, believing him to rely too heavily on loan signings, particularly towards the back end of last season. They blame him for unsettling their squad, therefore ruining their chances of making the playoffs. I didn't sense much excitement for the new season, but we wished them well, and as the bus approached the retail park outside the ground, we jumped off and headed to the nearest boozer.

After a couple of drinks we headed to the ground. You half know what to expect when you're approaching one of these new stadiums, and Chesterfield was no exception. The 'b2net stadium' was nicely built, in a convenient area, surrounded by useful commodities. The ground itself had the same feel as the Keepmoat Stadium about it, although less claustrophobic due to the corners being open plan. Overall, it was a nice little ground and I'm sure they're happy with how it has turned out. It'll be one of the better grounds to visit in League Two next season.

We got sat down after having a quick walk around the away concourse. Not to sound too disrespectful to our hosts, but who knows how long it'll be before we're back here again?

The game kicked off, but we didn't really start with the same vigour we have our last couple of friendlies, and we were on the back foot from the start. But we were always in the game, and had a couple of half chances. To be honest, the first half was a damp squib and 0-0 was about right when the referee blew his whistle. In fact, the most eventful moment of the first half was Foster slipping on the slope which surrounded the pitch, hitting the concrete track running around the grass with a real thud. For some reason, Foster seemed to be shouting at the stewards, who I'm not entirely sure had much to do with the planning process, but he did have a point. Both sides had a few hairy moments with players slipping around, and it may well cause problems at some point in the future.

At half time, it was difficult to get excited about what we'd seen. Whilst Chesterfield hadn't totally dominated, we'd given them plenty of time on the ball, and looked sloppy in possession ourselves. It was no surprise to see MR make 2 half time changes, swapping Disco and the ineffective Butterfield for Hugo and new signing, Jeronimo Neumann. It was the first time my dad had seen our new "Stevie Bennett" wannabe in action, and I'd bigged him up a little from the few flashes of talent we've seen in his two appearances on trial, so I was hoping he would come on and impress.

He did more than impress, he totally changed the game. His pace and movement were just too much for the Chesterfield defence, and he never wasted possession, always playing the right pass and making the right decision. It's still early days with him, but we could have a real gem on our hands with this lad.

The whole team improved when Neumann came on, and we began to take control of the game. We created chances, and it looked like only a matter of time before we opened the scoring. And we did so with an hour of the game gone; a brilliant cross from the ever-improving Goran Lovre found the head of Andy Gray, and his header was superbly saved by the Chesterfield keeper. The rebound fell to Jeronimo, who could hardly miss from yards out, but somehow he managed to hit the crossbar with the goal gaping. Luckily, the ball fell back to Andy Gray, who finally put the ball over the line. It was a lead we deserved.

We were in control by this point, and Hammill wasted a couple of great opportunities from good positions with some wild shooting. In his defence though, his confidence is clearly sky high at the moment, and it's nice to see someone in the Barnsley team who isn't afraid to have a pop at goal from distance.

As the full time whistle approached, MR made a couple more changes, bringing on Hume and Dickinson. Hume looked a little trimmer than before, and was his usual lively self, moving out onto the right wing and immediately whipping a fantastic cross in which landed plum on the head of Andy Gray, who couldn't direct his header on target. It was a great chance and really should have been 2-0.

With minutes remaining, it was, as Dickinson raced onto a poor back pass and rounded the keeper, then rounded the defender, and at one point rounded himself, before finally slotting the ball into the empty net. It was a deserved scoreline, and shortly after this goal referee blew his whistle for the final time.

There were some positives to take from the match, such as another clean sheet for our defensive unit, and another goal for Andy Gray, but it was far from our best performance. I think maybe the players are ready for the competitive stuff to begin now, like us fans.

Once we were outside the ground, we opted against getting the bus back into town, preferring to have a steady walk back up the hill. I'm glad we decided to walk; if we'd got the bus, we might have missed that derelict house on the roadside which someone had helpfully grafitti'd with the words "No lead, no copper, all gone" or words to that effect. Genius.

By the time we'd got back to the car, I was already thinking about next week. I don't know what to expect from Loftus Road. We ALWAYS get beaten there. And not usually just beaten, totally walloped too. But this time, I'm feeling cautiously optimistic. Surely our luck has to change there some day? We've already been written off by the bookies, for both the game and the whole season, so the pressure is off. I just hope we go there, play as well as we have been, and show this division that we're a new, hungry side, no longer aiming to simply survive, but to see how much we can achieve. I don't know about you guys, but I can't wait any longer. Bring it on.

Thanks for reading.

Pre-season: Sheffield Wednesday (H)

2010-07-28T10:59:00.002+01:00

I've missed this feeling. The feeling of beating the old enemy, and further crushing their already-weakened spirit. It's such a shame we won't get to do it in the league this season.

In the build up to this game, I toyed with the idea of not going. I was facing the journey and the match alone, since my dad couldn't make it again. And the missus had no intention of sitting in the home end for this one. Not that I could understand why, since I've been convinced for a while that we'd lose this game. If anything, I thought she'd be eager to join me, sit right in the heart of the Ponty End, smirking all evening.

I wish she'd come now. It would have been very enjoyable.

I've been yearning for a change before the season begins. Not a massive change, just a cheeky game in another side of the ground. The plan was to head for the West stand for one of the pre-season friendlies, but I hadn't reckoned on it being closed, so that's on hold now until the Rochdale Carling Cup tie. Instead I decided to take a nostalgia trip and sit in the upper tier of the East stand. Back in 2000, I had a season ticket up there and watched Hignett and co. come agonisingly close to guiding us to the Premiership for the second time. That season still stands out as one of my favourite of all time, and I'd not sat up there since then, so it seemed like a great idea.

Walking around the old places I used to stand, where we used to get a burger and a drink, it was strange. It's hard to believe it's been a whole decade since those days.

Of course, I remembered why we don't sit there anymore when I headed to the seats; the sun being in my direct eye line. I could barely make out the shadowy figure of Toby Tyke bombing from the halfway line and smashing the ball home in front of the away end. Why doesn't he do this anymore? He used to do it every home game, and it never got old. Maybe yesterday was a signal of him bringing it back?

Without wanting to pay the Deedars too many compliments, they brought a decent crowd for a friendly, especially one they knew was going to be as close to torture as possible. A newly relegated side, low on money and confidence, playing a local rival away from home? Someone at Wednesday must have a sense of humour.

This is more than can be said for Don Rowing. I'm not sure why Wednesday idolise that fat topless bloke, but banning him seems a bit over the top. I can't see how he poses a threat to safety. In fact, our lass and her dad know him and see him at most away games, and insist he's usually the one attempting to defuse tense situations, rather than initiating them. Besides, a ban for removing a shirt? How did Newcastle keep all their fans in Oakwell last season? Most of them had their shirts swinging above their heads right from the start, but I'd be willing to bet that if we drew them in the FA Cup this season, we'd still be flogging them 7,500 tickets again. Madness.

With the atmosphere building (as much as it can for a friendly game), the crowd singing back and forth, and the sun still gleaming, the players entered the pitch ready to start the game. I expected Liam Dickinson to start yesterday, but he was on the bench again, with Andy Gray starting. He's had a good run in the first team so far has Gray, and is beginning to look better. For the first time in a long time, nobody around me booed or jeered him, which made a pleasant change too.

The game kicked off, and we were rampant. The slick passing which we'd displayed so far in pre-season was back on show, and at times Wednesday were left chasing shadows. Neat little triangles, one touch passing, it was superb to watch, and effective too. It yielded a goal just 6 minutes into the game, Goran Lovre supplying a fantastic low cross after some good play in midfield, which Devaney swept home. We deserved it too, and as the half wore on, we really should have made our dominance count for more.

Last season, Rotherham fans mocked us when we gave MR the job, dismissing Robins as a long ball merchant, who preferred to grind out ugly wins rather than concern himself with playing good football. And I was worried, because at times last season, their assessment looked accurate. But Robins is building and developing his own team here. And I know it's difficult to judge on a couple of meaningless friendlies against League One opposition such as Wednesday (that feels good to say) but it's hard not to be excited.

At half time, you could practically hear the collective sigh of relief from the visiting fans. There team had been totally outplayed, failing to muster a single shot on target, and 2 or 3 nil wouldn't have been harsh.

But it was always inevitable that the away team would start the second half with more impetus, and they certainly did so. They began to get a foothold in the game, and a came close on a couple of occasions to managing to force Steele into a save. Sadly for them, our defence stood firm, blocking anything that came their way, and when Goran Lovre headed in our second goal with 20 minutes left, the game was all but over.

Then the substitutes came. Sweeping changes for both sides. For us, on lumbered Liam Dickinson, who really failed to whet the appetite in his brief cameo. Our mystery trialist, who definitely ISN'T Steven Bennett, and is actually Jeronimo something-or-other, came on and showed a few glimpses of talent, but looked rather off the pace. Surely MR will give this lad a start at Chesterfield on Saturday? Potter was also on the pitch, having come on at half time for Jay McEveley after a slight injury scare, but failed to impress with some erratic passing and even more erratic defending. But am I right in thinking this was his first appearance of the pre-season? Maybe that sharpness will come. We all know he can pass and defend well enough, we saw it last season.

As the match petered out, the Wednesday fans filtered away, no doubt concerned about their teams poor pre-season. They've failed to beat anyone of note, and aren't scoring many goals. On yesterday’s evidence, they don't look the title challengers they're no doubt going to be tipped as. But things can change quickly, especially when the games become more serious.

The final whistle went after a minute of injury time, and I filtered out into the car park and off on my way home, satisfied with everything. The performance levels were good, the play was (at times) excellent to witness, and everyone who had started played well. Shackell again looked formidable in the heart of the defence, and his cool, collected style when he's in possession is clearly working wonders for Steven Foster too. They're looking pretty solid at the moment. McEveley is slowly getting better, as is Goran Lovre, and even Nathan Doyle looked good last night, if not a little hit and miss with his passing. Andy Gray held the ball up well, and Adam Hammill is playing with confidence, something he hasn't done since Home Park in May 2009. It's hard to criticise anyone. Some might argue that Sheffield Wednesday weren't all full strength, and maybe that's true, but you can only beat what's in front of you. And we did so, convincingly.

All the way home, I was thinking about our performance. I couldn't wait to get in and brag. I'm playing poker with the father-in-law on Saturday night, and there's gonna be some serious ribbing going on.

In truth, I just can't wait for this season to begin. But first we've got the small matter of Chesterfield to attend to. A new ground to see, and hopefully another good performance. And a last chance for the players to stake their place in that first eleven that'll walk out at Loftus Road, in just over a weeks time.

Thanks for reading.

Pre-season: Huddersfield Town (H)

2010-07-25T18:04:00.001+01:00

After Tuesday nights relatively stress-free victory against York City, the signs looked good. Today, they're looking a little bit better still.

Not that I'd been holding out much hope for this one. I'm not entirely sure why, but I fancied Huddersfield to beat us. Maybe revenge for that wonderful night in 2006 when we sent them packing out of the playoffs, on our march back into Championship football? Whatever the reason, I felt sure I'd be writing about our first pre-season defeat tonight.

It was gonna be an interesting experience for me, because my dad wasn't coming with me, but the missus was, and as I've mentioned before, she's a Wendy fan. She wasn't especially happy about coming, and she spent the morning making sly digs whenever she got the opportunity. I let it go though. After all, it's nothing compared to the stick I'm gonna be giving her and her dad in a couple of days when League One's most bankrupt newcomers arrive at Oakwell, ready for their 90 minutes of pure, uninterrupted piss-taking.

The first job of the day, once we'd arrived at Oakwell, was to go and get some tickets for Chesterfield bought. I also contemplated getting the new home shirt, but I've decided to delay the inevitable. Especially since I'll be back at Oakwell tomorrow, paying £400 or so on those Q.P.R tickets.

It was nice to be walking around the place, with the sun beaming down, taking it all in again. The last time I came to Oakwell, to pick up the season tickets, it was a grey, miserable day, and the new season seemed like decades away. Today, all the usual feelings came flooding back. Seeing away fans milling around, looking lost as they try and find the away end, watching the programme sellers setting their stalls around the car park, hearing the familiar, soothing sound of someone bellowing "HALF TIME DRAW" in your lughole as you walk by; aye, I'm just about ready for the real stuff to begin.

Not that I don't enjoy the pre-season. It's nice to be able to sit through a Yorkshire derby without constantly biting the nails, staring forlornly at the scoreboard and wrestling with that sick feeling I always get in my stomach. In a few weeks, we'll be welcoming Leeds to Oakwell, and I'm nervous about that already, so it's just nice to be able to watch with the pressure off.

Anyway, we got our Chesterfield tickets, had a sneaky look at the new home shirt up close, and had a steady walk to the Gatehouse for a cheeky pint before the game. It went down a treat in the summer sun, and only served to put me in the mood for the match. Before long, it was time to make the short walk from town, up and over the hill and towards Oakwell. You wouldn't believe how much I've missed that walk.

We got to the ground, grabbed a quick bite to eat and had a read of the match day programme, before sitting down. I'd been planning on sitting in the West stand for this game, just as a change from the norm, so I was gutted when I found out it was closed. So I decided to stick with what I know, and got sat down in the Ponty End, ready to watch the warm up.

Well, that was the plan, only there didn't seem to be any players warming up anywhere. God knows why, but they were training on the academy pitches. I suppose they were trying to keep the pitch as pristine as possible for as long as possible. To be fair, it looked great. It won't last.

When the players came out, I got the usual butterflies that I always get when I'm at Oakwell. It was the perfect day to be back.

The game itself was a decent encounter. For the opening 20 minutes or so, we were fantastic. We knocked the ball around, created chances, and saw Adam Hammill score 2 absolute wonder goals. Usually it's hard to celebrate goals in a friendly match, but not when they're as fantastic as those two. We'll probably not see a better goal this season at Oakwell than his second, it certainly had shades of Brian Howard vs. Cardiff.

I've been impressed with the way we seem more comfortable on the ball in these last two games. Suddenly, players are looking to pass and move, playing with patience and waiting for the chance to advance. It's a much better tactic than lumping the ball forward, and so far it's been successful. It's good to see MR is trying to get us playing the right way, and even better to see his labour bear fruit on the pitch.

Not that the game was one-sided. As the first half wore on, Huddersfield began to come into the game,creating some good chances along the way, and could easily have been back in the game before half time. But they were wasteful in front of goal, and by the time Hammill had scored his 3rd, from a great team move, the game looked to be over.

Mystery Trialist/Steven Bennett

At half time, Hugo took to the pitch for the first time since his very public return to the club, and it was nice to see him get a good welcome, if not a bit disappointing to see him acting like a little girl when the sprinklers got him. He was warming up alongside "Steven Bennett", who apparently wasn't "Steven Bennett" at all, but the "mystery trialist" we were taking a look at. I'm not entirely sure who he was, but it was all rather confusing, and I'm still not entirely sure what's going on.

Also, there was a young lad sitting in the West stand with what looked like his agent, which could be a sign that MR is about to do some more business for the club. Couple this with the rumours that Shotton was at the game too yesterday, and it might be a good week for us.

The second half was a bit of a non-event, with Huddersfield getting the goal their play deserved. By this time, MR had made plenty of changes and the team was unrecognisable from the one that had started the game. It was pretty even, with both teams having spells of possession. Their goal was a weak header from one-time Reds target Theo Robinson, although quite why Preece was on his arse in the goalmouth is a mystery. But it didn't really take the gloss off a good performance.

The new boys impressed again. I can't speak highly enough of Shackell, he's class. Every touch is brilliant, he's always calm and collected on the ball. And he brings the ball forward nicely, always looking to pass rather than smash it long. O'Brien too had a much better game, looking menacing on either wing. Lovre is still catching up with the pace of the games, but again showed flashes of what we can expect. And McEveley was solid and steady again.

In fact, nobody stood out as having a poor game. Even Dickinson came on and showed a few decent touches. I'd like to see him start a game now, see what he can do.

Micky Boulding, back in a Reds shirt

Micky Boulding also got on the pitch and put himself about a bit. In fact, he almost bundled that late corner in but it was cleared from the goalmouth by some desperate defending. I don't think he'll secure the contract he's after, but I'd love to see him get a goal in pre-season, just for old times sake.

The full time whistle came and went, and we filtered out into the street. All the talk around us seemed positive and most could appreciate that we'd seen a good performance. Say what you like about friendlies, but when they're going well, they create a real buzz. With every passing game, I'm more and more eager to get the campaign underway.

And as an added bonus, on the way home we found out Wendy had lost at Scunny, which is always nice to hear. I kept the gloating down to a minimum with our lass. They'll be plenty of time for that on Tuesday night anyway.

I've a sneaking suspicion Wednesday might beat us, but I had that same feeling about Huddersfield and I was proven wrong. Even so, what we've seen so far has filled me with a lot of confidence. We're playing the right way, looking to do the right things and so far it's working. And for the first time in a long time, we seem to have players who want to be in posession, who are capable of remaining calm and finding a team mate. Maybe I'm reading too much into a couple of meaningless games, but it's hard not to feel positive at the moment. It's scary feeling this optimistic in the build up to a new season. I just hope Wendesday don't go and ruin it all on Tuesday.

Thanks for reading.

Pre-Season: York City (A)

2010-07-21T21:15:00.033+01:00

Hello and welcome back to Seeing Red for the 2010/11 season. Hope the Summer has treated you well, and suitably whet your appetite for another 9 months of torture, agony, excitement, drama, tension, and unbridled ecstasy.

In typically stubborn fashion, I'm gonna sweep the World Cup under the carpet and pretend it never happened. We've all debated to death just who let us down and how. We've sat in pubs until the early hours, drowning our sorrows and frantically trying to piece together the last remaining fragments of our nations shattered pride. And we've watched Spain lift the fabulous, imaginatively named 'FIFA World Cup Trophy' and conquer the world, an honour we'd all love to see England earn once more.

No more watching prancing, flouncing, wailing, flailing jessies waving their imaginary cards at some Korean referee. No more listening to that incessant drone, that constant, unmissable noise which prompted t.v. viewers all over England to press their mute button for some peace and quiet (no, not Mark Lawrenson, the vuvuzela's). And no more England flags waving dejectedly in the wind, no more pubs full of half-cut Englishmen (and women) urging the team on, clinging to the faint hope that we CAN win the World Cup, that we're destined for glory. No more.

It's over now. For another 4 years, our World Cup dream sleeps. Wake it up in 2014.

The proper stuff, back again

Now we're back into the proper stuff. And there's nowt more proper than a wet, miserable Tuesday night stood on an open terrace watching the Reds. Top notch.

I'd never been to the York ground before this friendly, but I'd been looking forward to it. Last season, with York still in the FA Cup draw, I was praying to any higher being that would listen, hoping their number would be paired with ours. Sadly, we ended up with Scunny and that was the end of that, so when the pre-season fixtures were announced, and Bootham Crescent was up first, I was pretty chuffed.

The day seemed to be dragging at work, as the excitement built up. I know most people wouldn't get excited about some meaningless pre-season friendly, but I can't help it. I spent most of the morning frantically checking the official site, hoping for some good news on the 'new signings' front. And then we got some. Hugo, back home where he belongs. Sure, he left to find himself a new challenge, to see if the grass was greener, and quickly realised it wasn't, and came crawling back, eager to continue his love affair with Barnsley. Just like Michael Boulding. In all seriousness though, I welcome him back. He's a good player, and we would've missed him this season. Mark Robins clearly thinks a lot of him. Why else would he have given Hugo so much leeway, when Boggy was kicked out on his arse for stalling?

I was anticipating a nice, pleasant journey through to York, despite the torrential downpour which lasted the whole way there. I've been plenty of times, and was planning to park in the hospital car park, about 5 minutes away from the ground. So I made the fatal mistake of leaving the sat-nav at home, boxed up. I was so sure I knew the way. In my defence, I DID know the way, I just hadn't reckoned with a road being closed. It totally threw us out. So our nice, pleasant journey to York became a desperate drive around the city centre, marauding through taxi routes and nearly running down pedestrians. Eventually, we did manage to find our way back onto a road I knew, somehow, and made it to the hospital in plenty of time.

We asked a local where the ground was and walked with them, chatting about the upcoming season. These particular York fans just didn't fancy the disappointment of another Wembley heartache. I had to have a giggle when one of them said "It's a horrible feeling, getting to Wembley and just not turning up". I can relate with that. I reckon Kayode Odejayi can too. Anyway, we followed them towards the ground, then followed the huge police presence to the away end. It seemed a bit over the top, but given what happened with those Hull fans, rioting in a pub in the city centre, the old bill were clearly taking no chances.

One of the away stands

The ground was pretty much what I was expecting, and I liked it. Since Peterborough last season, I've had a real soft spot for these rare, standing terraces, which was partly the reason I was looking forward to this game so much beforehand. I can imagine the atmosphere in the away end being electric in a competitive match. I know who I'm hoping for in the FA Cup again this season.

The game then. It wasn't the best, naturally, but we did well. The new boys were a mixed bag. McEveley, O'Brien and Lovre all started slowly, with O'Brien in particular failing to get into the game. But it's early days, so it can be forgiven. The stand out performer from the newbies was Jason Shackell. He was immense, and slotted perfectly into the back four. He looked like he'd been playing there for years, rather than months. He tailed off as the game wore on, which could be down to fitness, but he looks an exciting prospect and if we can keep him fit, he could turn out to be a huge player for us next season.

Some of the newbies warming up

As for the others, it was solid, rather than spectacular. Steele made some good saves, and showed a few glimpses of the erratic streak which got him, and us, into trouble at times last season. Bobby was his usual, solid self, and Humey worked hard as he always does, and put in a fantastic cross for the second goal. Disco ran at people, but showed no desire to pass the ball, and missed a couple of glorious opportunities to slide people through. Fozzie looked ok, although he took a knock early and needed treatment for a blood injury. Hopefully, without the burden of captaincy hanging over his head, Foster can kick on and get back to being the player he was when he first signed. Doyle was also steady, although it'll be interesting to see how prominently he figures in MR's plans, especially now Colace has re-signed.

I'll save a special mention for Andy Gray, who scored two very good goals, despite taking yet more unnecessary flak from some Reds fans. His first strike especially was real quality, and a glimpse of what he can do. It's no coincidence that many managers have paid good money to sign him in the past, and I hope he can shove some taunts down a few throats this season.

The rain clouds were gathering...

At half time, someone nearby pointed to a rather angry looking sky, with a black cloud hovering menacingly close to the ground. Suddenly, I found myself wishing I'd bothered to bring a coat, but luckily the weather held out until just after full time. Not that a bit of water bothers me, of course...

The second half kicked off, with the Reds playing towards their own fans massed behind the goal, although there seemed to be Reds fans all over the ground. I could see flags to the left and right of the away end, to the point that it was beginning to feel like a home game. Players who hadn't performed at their best in the first 45 minutes began to settle down a bit, and by the end everyone had put a decent shift in, including the lads who came on (rather late) as subs. Jamil Adam looks a tidy little prospect, and Dicko Mk. II also had a couple of decent touches, so both showed some real potential. Andy Gray took his second goal well, and we probably could have had a couple more, although York could have scored themselves. Overall, it was a decent workout for them, and they showed enough to excite me further about the new season.

My favourite moment was Disco screaming and shouting at young Jamil Adam for not supplying him with a pass in the box, blatantly ignoring the fact that earlier in the half, he himself missed a much simpler pass to a totally unmarked Iain Hume. The reaction from the crowd said enough. I particularly liked the shout from one bloke of "Tek no gorm lad, he never bloody passes". The look on Disco's face after he clearly heard this: priceless.

When the full time whistle went, the clouds which had been threatening to unleash all night did just that, and the heavens opened, so it was a mad dash to the car, making sure to smile and wave for the police cameras which filmed out exit. No time to even exchange pleasantries with the home faithful, who I do hope can get back into the Football League this season. It was a nice ground, the folk seemed decent and I wouldn't begrudge them some success. And it'd take us one step closer to playing them in a competitive game too, so come on York, make it happen.

Huddersfield will be a much sterner test that York provided, especially for our newly assembled defensive unit. They have some good, young goalscorers at the Galpharm, and I'm sure they'll want to impress against a Championship club, particularly Theo Robinson, who might well see a chance to persuade MR to part with some cash and bring him to Oakwell. But after last night, the signs look good.

Thanks for reading. It's good to be back.

Reds end season on a high at Hawthorns

2010-05-03T11:46:00.001+01:00

So another season has passed us by. Overall, it's not been a bad one really has it?

I've got to say, I was much more up for this on Saturday night than I was Sunday morning when the alarm awoke me from my slumber. The last day of the season is traditionally supposed to be bathed in glorious sunshine, a perfect day for football, and Sunday was far from that. When I opened the curtains, the first thing I saw was rain.

Rain?!
On the last day?!

It's just not allowed to happen, and it had already put a downer on the day before we'd even set off.

Of course, the opposition had their part to play in my downbeat mood too. I still fully remember the total humiliation of our last visit to West Brom, and it had a lot of the hallmarks of Sundays match; last game, away from home, West Brom in party mood after a successful season, with us guaranteed another year in the Championship with 'nowt to play for. That 7-0 has been running through my head all week, and who could honestly say it wasn't gonna happen again?

Of course, any stress I was feeling paled into insignificance in comparison to what the missus was going through. It was crunch day for the Wendies, and she was very, very stressed. And I bore the brunt of that stress. She practically kicked me out of the door Sunday morning. Say what you want about our supposedly "boring" end to the season, but it's a much better scenario than the one she was facing up to.

I remember that feeling last season, knowing a win at Plymouth would be enough to secure safety, and hoping that Charlton would do us a favour and beat Norwich, just in case like. It's horrible to go through.

I did wish her luck, and I did actually mean it too. I know, I know. For shame.

We set off at half 9, and arrived in plenty of time at The Hawthorns. Outside the ground, the road was lined with car park attendants in hi-vis jackets touting for customers, enticing drivers to come park in their premises, like some sort of Brummie looky-looky men. I rather liked it, it gave the journey a 'continental' feeling that the weather had failed to provide.

I like The Hawthorns. I know it's been renovated fairly recently, but it still retains its traditional feel. I love the whole 'industrial' feel of the place. And those blue gates looked cracking near the club shop. Inside, the away end is pretty cramped up, although we weren't exactly packing the place out so it didn't effect us too much today. The view was good too and although the home atmosphere was a bit subdued for a team on their way back into the Premiership, I did like the place.

Before kick off, someone with a sense of humour obviously thought it was a good idea to have the mascots playing a game of keep-ball, West Brom vs. Barnsley. Which would have been ok, had West Brom not had roughly 14 mascots to our paltry 1. Our mascot did the only thing he could in the circumstances, and allowed the West Brom mascots plenty of time on the ball, in an obvious attempt to wear them out. Sadly it didn't really work, but we were all behind him in the stands, urging him on.

As the players came out, the enormity of the day began to sink in. This was the last game of the season. THE LAST GAME! For months! I can barely get through the international breaks, never mind the whole summer. The World Cup is nice, but it's just not the same. I'll miss these afternoons, and even this terrible run of form hasn't dampened my spirits. I mean, what else would I do on a Saturday afternoon? It's like a drug, football. I can't cope without my regular fix every week.

I was determined to make the most of this now. I was just hoping the team had the same mindset.

The game was all ready to kick off, with beach balls and a variety of other inflatables flying around the ground. I was looking forward to getting into this "party mood" they'd been planning all week. Even if it was God damn freezing.

We started brighter than our hosts and probably should have been ahead when Disco pulled a shot wide from a decent position after just a couple of minutes. We were in full voice by this point, and one or two celebrities had started to take their seats. I never knew Julius Ceasar was a dingle, nor have I seen Rafael, Donatello or ANY of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at previous Barnsley games, so it was a bit of a shock. At this point, the party atmosphere was more vibrant and much louder in the away end. Of course, most of the songs were in relation to Sheffield Wednesdays plight, but the performance on the pitch was giving us plenty to sing about too.

Why can't we play like we did yesterday every week? Or at least most weeks? We've not played well since Preston all those months ago, but yesterday showed that we can play well when we put our minds to it. It's frustrating that we don't do it against some of the lower teams in this division, instead of saving it for the likes of West Brom, Cardiff and the other top teams, Newcastle away excluded obviously.

The Mexican waves started next, all the home fans and the away end too. I saw a West Brom fan mention this on the 606 forum the day before, he was disgusted that Middlesbrough hadn't joined in with it a few weeks previously, and hoped we'd join in and not spoil the fun. I don't think he'll be disappointed with our contribution.

It was so relaxed by this point. It's nice to not worry about what is going on elsewhere on the final day. I can think of one team who were in a much worse position than us though...

The first cheer went up behind me, and it quickly spread around the rest of the away end. I got several texts, some of which simply bore the name 'Alan Lee'. We knew what it meant. I didn't really know how to feel. It's difficult to think of someone you care about going through so much pain elsewhere. It was a strange, strange feeling.

After an eventful first half, in which West Brom missed one or two decent chances, the game was goalless. By then, news had filtered through that Wednesday had equalised just before half time. The missus was just about holding it together as I spoke to her on the phone. Just about.

This season has provided some strange moments, but I've got to say, being stood in the toilets at half time with Beetlejuice to my left and Pamela Anderson to my right probably tops them all. Surely Pamela was in the wrong toilet? I've seen that tape before and she looked all woman to me, if I recall rightly.

The second half kicked off and we started brightly again, and got our noses in front thanks to 'Player of the Season' Hugo Colace. I missed this goal, I was too busy watching the home fans bouncing up and down to our left. It stopped them bouncing pretty quickly. I've missed quite a few goals this season just through not concentrating, I'm really gonna have to buy the end of season DVD.

After that, it was backs to the wall for a lot of the game. West Brom created chance after chance but their finishing was woeful at times. But the writing was on the wall and we all knew the sucker punch was gonna come. It was more a question of when.

During a ten minute spell, when we could barely get them out of our half, they won several corners in a row all of which were taken by Chris Brunt, who was barraged throughout the game, as you'd expect. By they fourth or fifth corner, he finally acknowledged the stick we were giving him and allowed himself the slightest of smiles and a timid thumbs-up. Was it sarcastic? Maybe, but it made me smile anyway.

The next big cheer was for the second Palace goal, scored by Darren Ambrose. Right up until this point, I still thought Wednesday would find a way out of their predicament. This was the first moment it dawned on me that Wednesday were going down. Again, given my situation I wasn't too sure how to feel about it. I tried to ring the missus but got no answer. Maybe she knew too.

Back at our game, Robins made the decision to substitute Big Dave, and the ovation from all four sides of the ground was a fantastic sight to behold. Daz had been made captain for the day with Fozzie on the bench, and this moment led most people around us to believe that this was to be his final appearance in a Reds shirt. The rumours have been circulating for a few days now about whether Moore will be offered a new deal, but it's not looking good. We'll miss him though, he was fantastic throughout this game and he's had a good season.

There aren't many players like Darren Moore around. He's a model pro, a real character and football as a whole will be much worse off without him. Thanks for the service, Big Dave. You deserved that recepion on Sunday. I hope it stays with you forever.

The home breakthrough finally came in the final minute after some more dreadful defending from us. We were sitting so deep by this point, it was inevitable. Scottish midfielder Graham Dorrans got the goal, and naturally the home fans went crazy, running onto the pitch and boing-boinging around the place in general. By the time order had been restored, the referee decided not to risk further problems and end the game a couple of minutes early, which was probably just as well for us, given that there was only one team going on to win from that moment.

The final whistle went and people were straight on the phones desperately trying to get news from Hillsborough. We stayed to applaud the home fans as they entered the field of play to celebrate with their players, who've had a fantastic season and deserve their shot at the Premiership again.

We didn't stay behind long enough to watch the West Brom team celebrate their promotion and collect their medals, although we did catch sight of the guy holding his scarf aloft and taunting us as we made our way out. I gestured a couple of times that they were coming straight back down, just to wind him up more than anything, since I don't really have anything against Albion. That was pretty mild compared to most of the gestures from fellow Reds fans around me.

Outside the ground, we got talking to a couple of Albion fans, and asked if they were planning on stopping up this time or not, and they felt pretty confident that with a couple of signings, they'd manage it this time. I hope they stay there, I quite like them and they've been a model for clubs who go up from this level. They don't go crazy and spend more money than they have, they approach it sensibly. I wouldn't begrudge them a bit of success in the top flight.

They also asked us how Teixeira has been getting on. To be honest, I expected more from him, although his past injury problems can't have helped. We told them that we didn't think we'd be signing him permanently next season. I don't believe he's done enough.

By the time we got back to the car, Wednesday's fate had been sealed, so I left the missus alone for a while to reflect on their dreadful season. It brought home just how well we'd done this season too. It could so easily have been us, given the terrible start we had.

Eventually I did talk to her, and she was handling it rather well. A lot better than I would have handled it. She'd also made sure the tv cameras circling Hillsborough caught sight of her in full 'grief' mode. Nobody could say she's camera shy.

The drive home was quiet. I still can't really believe the season is over. It doesn't seem like 5 minutes since we were sat at Hillsborough on the opening day, and now here we are, season over. It's a depressing thought.

And so we made it home, tired and emotional. It's been a rollercoaster of a season, and I am sad to see the back of it. MR has done great things already, but next season we need to step up another level. I've been confident right from the start of his reign that he can turn us around and get us into the top half of the table. Will we achieve this next season? Maybe not, but we can't rush these things. Given where we were, I'm happy just to make steady progress. But it's no exaggeration to say this is the first time I've been genuinely excited about a new season, with genuine hopes and dreams rather than pessimism and fear. I thank Mark Robins for this. Maybe that's a bit premature, but I'm buzzing already

Well, that's it for this season. We've all got a summer away now to rest, recuperate and come back ready for another season in the Coca Cola Championship. Thank you for reading and commenting this season, I'll see you for the next match. Wakefield away? Damn right.

Thank you.

Reds Fluff Lines on Oakwell Finale

2010-04-25T16:48:00.000+01:00

I nearly didn't make it to our last home game of the season yesterday. Our journey to Oakwell was more frustrating and disappointing than anything the team served up on the pitch. I know that's hard to believe.

Everything had been going perfectly to plan all morning. The sun was out, it was perfect day for football. The last few weeks have been getting harder and harder to feel motivated for, but yesterday I was really looking forward to it. And I really fancied us to win the match too.

For all the dreadful performances and results we've suffered through recently, the table still made for good reading before the game. A good win could have moved us several places up the league and made it look more comfortable for us than it feels like it has been. Even Donny were still within our sights, and I wouldn't have minded finishing above them this season. If they're the Arsenal of this division, surely finishing above them would make us Chelsea...?

We set off earlier than normal, giving ourselves plenty of time to get our West Brom tickets and get to the pub in time to catch the Man Utd-Spurs match. Nothing beats being in the pub, watching the football with a nice cold pint in the summer months. It was the perfect plan. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Or so we thought. But what we hadn't planned for was somebody pulling straight across a junction and ploughing into the side of the car in Cudworth. Nobody was hurt thankfully, and she accepted fault straight away but it didn't help the matter. At 1:15, when we should have been sat in the pub watching the Man Utd game with our West Brom tickets safely in our pockets, we were in Fulton's car park waiting for a tow truck to get the car, which wouldn't even start. The game was off for us at that point, and I was gutted.

After much deliberation, we agreed that if the car was picked up and taken quick enough, we'd head to the game anyway and see as much of it as possible. Now we were at the mercy of the tow truck.

Luckily, the tow truck was quick in getting to us, giving us plenty of time to get to Oakwell. The only downside was that we had to carry a child booster seat with us all afternoon, from the back of the car. I can imagine it's the strangest thing ever taken to a football game, although I'm happy to be corrected.

We flagged a taxi and, car seat in tow, headed towards Oakwell. I felt a bit of an arse walking around with it in my hands. It's not particularly easy to miss; it's big, black, plastic and very, very noticeable. But it's a small price to pay to make the match when it had looked so ominous just half an hour before.

We headed to The Mount and got ourselves a quick pint before kick off. We were met with quizzical looks from punters and staff alike as they tried to figure out what the Hell we were carrying. Someone even suggested it was a lunchbox. Luckily, the bar staff in The Mount were very helpful and allowed us to save our big, black, plastic car seat behind the bar and come back to collect it later.

I love standing in The Mount car park with a pint during the summer. It reminded me of Wolves at home in our last home game of last season, only with nowhere near as much tension surrounding the place. Everyone seemed much more relaxed than they had the last few weeks. Maybe everyone was feeling as confident as me. Or maybe everyone was just taking in the atmosphere of the last home game, in the knowledge that in a couple of weeks we'll probably all be pining for next season to start. The World Cup is nice, but it can't replace the Reds for me. By the time we'd finished thinking about this, it was almost kick off time, so we slung our pints down and briskly headed to Oakwell, for the last time this season.

And so with about 30 seconds to spare we made our seats, ready for the final home game. The sun was blaring, the atmosphere was quite carnival and we were hoping for a final send off to a season which could have ended in disaster, and yet has ended with success. It's a strange feeling going into our last home game not particularly needing anything.You could argue it makes it boring, although it's much nicer than Wolves at home last season.

Throughout the first half, the game was pretty even, and we should have gone ahead pretty early when Hume got free of the last man. I've not seen it back yet but it looked like Hume should have done better. That also applies to Macken, who missed a great chance after a good save from their keeper. Not that the visitors didn't have their moments too. Antonio German must have felt sorry for Shefki Kuqi last week and decided to produce his own 'Miss of the Season' contender. Being sat directly behind the goal in the Ponty End has its benefits, and in this case it was a perfect view of just how bad that miss actually was.

If the miss was bad, then the only goal of the game was well worthy of winning it. It was an unstoppable strike from Mikele Leigertwood, and the round of applause from the Ponty End said enough.

At half time, the players awards were handed out. It was a strange decision to announce the winners before the game rather than waiting, but I do think Colace was a fair decision. In all honesty, it was a tough choice to pick because nobody has truly stood out. Well done to him all the same. The break gave Dicko a chance to get out and warm up. I watched him lark around with Toby Tyke, sign autographs and almost get a drenching by the sprinklers, and it actually cheered me up. We need him back. Get him signed up Robins, we all want him back. He belongs at Oakwell.

In the second half the game, much like our season, fizzled out. We had enough chances to get something out of the game, but finishing again was the difference. It's something that has haunted us all season, and is probably MR's biggest challenge this summer. There was nothing to inspire the crowd today, and the biggest cheer of the day was the flashing Wednesday score on the scoreboard, which says all that needs saying.

It was nice to see Dicko get on. It was also nice to see him at his passionate best when one of the visiting players threw himself to the ground to win a free kick in front of the East Stand. They'd been at it for most of the second half, with the referee constantly being conned by it. Dicko almost executed the perfect comedy kick up the backside, but managed to restrain himself at the last minute. It was probably just as well he did, although it would have been funny. The ref had kept quiet in the first half, but he lost it a bit in the second.

It was also nice to see passion displayed by MR when a marginal offside call went against Martin Devaney, roughly 20 minutes after the original ball had been played through. I thought for a minute he was going to the stands, but the referee gave him a talking to. Good to see someone still caring enough about this season, because most of the players have been on holiday for some time now.

As the full time whistle approached, the usual warnings about entering the pitch were played out on the tannoy, and duly ignored. To be fair, there were plenty of police officers around, although standing them in front of the scarcely filled away end was a strange decision. Needless to say, the whistle was greeted with a pitch invasion, meaning no opportunity for the players to do their planned lap of honour. It's a shame, because aside from these last few months, the season has been a success. We've stayed up, and that was the only goal when MR took the job.

We didn't stay to watch people running aimlessly around the pitch. We'd just sat through 90 minutes of it; I didn't fancy any more. We simply headed to The Mount, collected our car seat, and headed for home, with mixed feelings about the whole day.

We'll still be at West Brom next Sunday, hoping to see something to cheer but not expecting anything. In fact, that 7-0 from a few seasons ago is still fresh in the memory and not totally beyond the realms of happening again. It's a shame that the miserable end of the season has put a real downer on what should have been an enjoyable few months of the campaign, with safety assured and no pressure on. It has shown that we have a lot of work to do in the summer. But MR has earned his chance to undertake the overhaul we need, so lets give him it and get behind him. I still feel very confident he can change the fortunes of our club.

Thanks for reading.

The Rut Continues

2010-04-18T17:56:00.001+01:00

It's quite a prospect to look forward to on a Saturday morning; several hours on a stuffy coach, heading to South Wales to watch a desperately out of form Reds clash with the notoriously goal-shy Swans. Is there a better way to spend the first full day of your weekend? Err...

As you can imagine, I was up at the crack of dawn to get ready for this one. It's fair to say, I'm not a 'morning person'. To make it worse, the girlfriend and the young 'un didn't even flinch as I banged and crashed my way around the house, getting everything in place for the day ahead. I must admit, by the time I was ready to set off, I was making as much noise as possible. Why is it fair that they get to stay in bed? One up, all up, that's the way I see it. Anyway, the plan failed and they slept the morning away, whilst I began the first leg of my long journey to Swansea.

Whenever I set off on the long journey to an away game with the sun barely risen, it invariably reminds me of the playoff final in Cardiff at the end of the 05/06 season. My memories are a bit blurry from that day, but it's the feeling of travelling for hours, crossing the country just to see the Reds play that brings it flooding back. Thankfully the weather on Saturday was much better than that day, with no flash floods and monsoons in sight. It wasn't particularly pleasant trudging around the Welsh capital in soggy clothes, looking like a drowned rat the last time, so I didn't particularly fancy it this time either.

We got to Oakwell around 8:15 and had a quick walk to the shop to grab some supplies. By this point, I was buzzing, well ready for this one. I wasn't totally confident about the outcome of the day, but I was still looking forward to the game.

The coach journey was the worst bit, as expected, just because of the amount of time sitting, doing nothing. Within 10 minutes, the papers we'd brought to read had been read cover to cover, and all we had left was to try and convince ourselves for 4 hours of motorway that we weren't making a wasted journey, and that we could get something from the game.

It's nice to be the confident one, 'cos there was no persuading my dad that we had it in us to get something from Swansea. He still thinks they're the best side we've seen all season.

Halfway towards South Wales, we stopped off at the services and saw the Histon team, on their way to Forest Green. They looked nervous, and it wasn't until afterwards that we realised the enormity of their game yesterday. I didn't realise they were in relegation trouble. No wonder they were all so subdued.

We arrived at the Liberty stadium at about 2:10, after taking a wrong turning earlier and ending up right beside the DVLA offices. It was a nice enough ground, but pretty much what you expect from these new ones. From the outside, it was a similar sort of shape and design to the Walkers Stadium, and was nice enough to look at. Inside, the view was great, and the atmosphere in the away end was top notch. Even the stewards were friendly, and overall it was a nice place, if not a bit similar to a few other places. It's not the best, but it certainly isn't the worst either.

The drink in the ground left a lot to be desired though. Every time we go to Wales, we order a drink and get handed one from under the desk. Is this normal?? It really creeps me out. I prefer watching my pint being pulled in front of my eyes, rather than it being in my hand ready to drink before I've finished asking for it. It was the same at the Millennium Stadium, so maybe it's just a Welsh thing.

We watched the Manchester derby reach its climax in the concourse, and watched United snatch it yet again. It was reacted to quite angrily by the crowd amassed underneath the TV, which is a bit odd. I probably would have preferred City to have won if pushed for an answer, but it didn't affect me in any way really. For a moment I was beginning to think I'd stumbled into Stamford Bridge or something.

We headed up to the seats and ended up sat practically next to the home fans to our right. Which is a great experience when you win the game, but horrible when you're being comfortably beaten, as we found out throughout.

The game itself was a poor one from our point of view, although in no way was it our worst performance of the season. Steele did his best to lighten up the mood yet again, with his comedy clearance attempt in the fourth minute. It's becoming a sickeningly regular sight to see him haring off his line, and his swing and miss was as impressive as anything he's managed recently. Luckily, the benefactor of his latest, ahem, "moment" was Shefki Kuqi, and he spared his blushes by somehow putting the chance wide. The look on the faces of everyone in the ground, especially the Swansea fans to our right was magical. You could practically hear the sound of 15,000 people simultaneously scratching their heads, wondering how he'd managed to miss that. As Harry Redknapp would have said, my Gran could have scored that.

Swansea eventually did get in front, and then doubled their lead, much to the delight of the home fans nearest us, who'd had to put up with a lot of stick from our travelling support. But after Big Dave bulleted his header in from a Hume corner, Swansea began to look nervous. Colace missed a sitter a few minutes before half time, which would surely have seen us going in level at the break. No doubt that would have made it more interesting, although it would have been more than we'd deserved. They'd totally outplayed us for 45 minutes.

At half time, we headed down for another pre-prepared pint and watched the half time scores come through. By the time we'd headed back up to the seats, we'd missed a sitter from Hume, apparently. I've not seen it again yet, but I would like to. It can't be as bad as that Kuqi first half miss. Surely it's destined to appear on blooper DVD's forever more.

The second half fizzled out a bit really, and they deserved their win, although we did improve. I would have liked to see us have a go at them a bit more, but when Doyle was taken off and replaced in the middle by Hassell, it was obvious that wasn't going to happen. I've not had a bad word to say about MR since his arrival, even during this poor run of form we're in, but he'll have to talk me through that decision, because it stumped me. Butterfield was sat on the bench, and I can't help but think the game was crying out for him.

The third goal sealed the win, but it was typical of us these last few weeks; slack defending and a lack of concentration by everyone who was back defending. It ended the game as a contest and allowed Swansea to play their football and show their fans what they can do. They knock the ball around well, although I can't help but think a better side than us would probably not have let them dominate play the way we did.

By the end of the game, a few people were getting restless, and one or two refused to clap the players off the pitch which was a bit much. I really don't think it was a terrible performance. Swansea are where they are for a reason and it was always going to be a tough ask going there and getting anything. It's fair to say that this season needs to end now so we can start planning for another year in the best, most competitive division in this country.

My Man of the Match for the day was probably Foster who didn't do much wrong, despite us conceding 3 times. The midfield was anonymous again, and the less said about Andy Gray the better. Although I've got to say, chanting about your own player doing "f*** all" during a game when he's playing isn't what I'd call support. Maybe that's just me, but I think it's really poor and helps absolutely nobody.

The way home seemed much longer. It's a long day on the coach overall, with only a few hours at your destination before you're back on the road again. Next time, I think we'll do it in the car. Assuming of course that they don't win the playoffs, which they're still looking a good bet to be competing in come the end of the season.

When I finally arrived home, at about eleven, I was knackered and didn't fancy reading up on what was being said on the forums. I can see why people are frustrated, but it needs to be put into perspective a bit. We're not a top 6 side, or even a top ten. We needed to survive this season, and push on next time. So far, we're still well on course for that. The thing I fear most is that Robins is forced out of this club, because we're not a million miles from being a good side and I still believe MR is the man who can take us forward, given the chance.

Q.P.R next week is winnable and could help push us up the table. The league is so tight around us that a win next week could put us on the brink of the top half, which would be a fantastic finishing position. I'm going to miss watching the Reds in the summer, so I intend to try and enjoy these last couple of games. Hopefully, Robins will give the players a major kick up the backside and they can give us something else to cheer about before this season reaches its conclusion.

Thanks for reading.

Another week, another stalemate

2010-04-10T20:51:00.000+01:00

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't great to watch, but at least we're finally safe for another season. Although you wouldn't think it was much of an achievement given some of the rumblings I heard coming from Oakwell after this match.

For the last few weeks I've been getting a bit worried about this relegation battle going on below us. I don't like talking about safety until it's definite and confirmed, so I've not been able to relax at all. And yet when I woke up this morning, I had a feeling today would be the day. Don't ask me why, it was just a feeling, but I just fancied us to put our relegation fears to bed once and for all. In that respect, the Reds didn't disappoint, although in many other ways on the pitch they did.

I was in a good mood from the moment I woke up, mainly thanks to the glorious summer sunshine glaring through the bedroom window. Football in the summer is unbeatable, and today was no different. As much as I've been wishing this season to end so we can bask in the feeling of safety for another season, I'll certainly miss days like this in close season. The World Cup will help, but it's just not the same.

We set off in plenty of time to Oakwell, since we had a few errands to run before the match. The first one was to get to the box office and get our Swansea tickets sorted out for next weekend. Recent performances have had us questioning whether trekking all the way to Swansea to watch a side who've all but given in on the season was worth spending money on, but after much deliberation we decided to show our faces and get the tickets bought. After all, the season is so nearly over, so we might as well make the most of it while we can.

Once the tickets were sorted, it was time to head to the bookies and get some bets put on the Grand National. I never, ever bet on horse racing apart from the Grand National, so it's only ever guesswork for me. My dad, however, had a list as long as his arm of 10 different horses to back, all on the behalf of my mum, who really gets Grand National fever. After standing in the bookies for 10 minutes while he sorted out all the bets he was putting on, we were finally on our way to the pub to soak up the summer atmosphere before the game.

Only, when we got to the boozer, my dad realised he'd only bet on 9 horses, meaning he'd missed one out somewhere. And he'd binned the list with his bets on. He was convinced that the horse he'd missed would come in, and he'd be in all sorts of trouble when he got back home, but he wasn't concerned enough to leave his pint and jog back to the bookies. Luckily, the horse never came in, and no harm was done.

Speaking of horse racing, we got talking to a couple of Derby fans in the pub, one of which owned a couple of race horses himself. He mentioned that one of the jockeys riding in the National was a friend of his, and that he'd given up the chance to be there to watch the Rams at Oakwell. He's probably regretting that decision now after that display.

The lads we were talking to were top notch, and came across as having a similar mindset to ourselves. They know where their club stand, and where they want to be. They are proud of their attendances and their generally large support, and rightly so, but overall they were more than happy with surviving another season at this level. They were also quick to condemn some of the wages their players are picking up, and seemed insistent that a big change was needed at the club if they were to be successful next time around.

We also ended up talking to a Stoke fan, rather oddly. Obviously he was in South Yorkshire for the day out with some Derby friends, with his Stoke team playing on Sunday. He remembered with glee his last journey to Oakwell, when Trevor Teapot awarded them their 146th minute penalty to rob us of the win and draw the match 3-3.

As the clock ticked down towards the kick off, the Derby fans began to get a sweat on, thinking they were going to miss the kick off. We tried to reassure the lads that they were less than ten minutes away from the ground so there was no need to rush away, but with more and more people exiting the pub, nerves got the better of them and they headed off towards the ground. We wished them luck for the rest of the season, and told them we'd see them next time. Then it was off to the game ourselves.

The season ticket book is looking depressingly empty these days. It always makes me sad, this time of the season. I can't operate properly without football every weekend, and the emptiness of my season ticket served as a cruel reminder that another season is about ready to draw to a close.

As we got sat down, the teams were entering the playing field. Derby had brought just over a thousand fans with them, which is ok although considering their current form and the weather, I was a bit disappointed. I expected more than that. There's nothing like seeing the away end full, it certainly adds to the atmosphere at Oakwell, which was much better than last time out against Peterborough. At least they'd got the sound system working today, which was a massive improvement and made the place feel less like a morgue.

The game itself was frantic to start with, but rather low on quality. Soon, however, it settled down and both sides began to play with the same lack of interest. Both of our seasons have fizzled out recently, and it was looking more and more like a training match as every minute ticked by.

Yet again, we looked pretty toothless going forward. The last few weeks have been a bit worrying from an attacking point of view. Our defence finally seems to be playing with confidence, and the clean sheets have been getting more and more frequent, but I honestly feel we could have played until next Saturday and not have scored. Another worry recently has been our inability to pick a pass out, and that was something that was on show again today.

At half time, it was difficult to decide whether changes were needed or not. It hadn't been a bad performance, just indifferent. Robins kept it as it was, and I don't think it was the wrong choice.

The second half, much like the first, petered out into nothing and by the end both sides had accepted a point. Tackles stopped flying in, players from both sides began to pull out of 50/50 challenges, and the minutes dragged by as both sides accepted a point that confirmed Championship safety. The MOTM went to Shotton, probably because he was the only one who didn't really make any mistakes. In all honesty, it could have been a toss up, because nobody did enough to clinch it.

One criticism today would be the amount of time which had elapsed before a substitution was made by us. I thought the game was crying out for Butterfield for a long time, and I was surprised the change didn't come sooner.

When the full time whistle went, the boo's rang out around the ground, which was disappointing to hear. It wasn't our best, but was it really worthy of booing the players off?? I've seen much, much worse performances than that before, and will do again no doubt, so I don't think booing was necessary or warranted.

In the toilet before we set off home, we had the pleasure of listening to some bloke mouthing off about Robins not being up to the job and being "worse than Davey". Now, the last few weeks haven't been anything like convincing, but have we got to that point already? Robins has worked miracles this season and deserves much more immunity from the boo boys than he's getting. And his comment about hoping we get tanked 9-0 at Swansea next week was brilliant. I can only presume that it won't affect him, since he's probably not going, and probably doesn't go to many home games either. A few people around him were shaking their heads in disbelief, and rightly so, because it was crazy talk.

On the way home, we figured out that we were mathematically safe, due to the remaining fixtures for the other struggling teams. Wednesday and Palace meet each other on the last day, meaning neither of them can catch us now. I'm so glad we've finally confirmed that. Maybe now we can enjoy the last few matches and play without pressure. Hopefully, we can end the season with one more win at least and give us fans something to cheer about. Maybe it'll even shut that lad from the toilets up and make him appreciate just how far we've come recently, because it's worth bearing in mind.

That journey to Swansea is pretty intimidating next week, considering they need the points to keep their hopes for the playoffs alive, especially after other results today. Like I said before, hopefully we can relax and enjoy ourselves a little after finally, finally confirming our place in the Championship for another season.

The season might well be coming to an end, but it's time these players stepped up and showed the paying public that they still want to finish as high as they can in this division. They owe us that much.

Thanks for reading.

One point closer...

2010-04-05T18:07:00.015+01:00

It's a sad day to be a Peterborough fan, but it's still not rosy being a Red either. When are we going to get over that finish line, once and for all, and put this relegation thought out of our heads??

This game today had all the hallmarks of another let down for us. Just like against Plymouth, or Wednesday, or Palace or numerous others this season, we've managed to throw away more points against a side struggling at the wrong end of the division.

As the games are running out, we still can't quite get to safety, but I was confident that a win today would have been enough. Unfortunately, I was less confident about the game itself. Recently, we've been toothless going forward. We needed something today to lift the supporters, and finally put the season to bed and allow us to plan for another year in the Championship.

Having arrived at the ground early, Oakwell seemed really quiet. Not many people were milling about outside, or in the pub. It's such a strange feeling, the Easter Monday game. It throws me out, having a 3 o'clock kick off and yet having to go to work the next day. Something just doesn't feel right about it.

Inside the ground, it was even quieter, due to the PA system not working. It's amazing how empty the place feels without music blaring out. I don't usually spend much time actually listening to the tunes before the game, but it was certainly missed today. It almost felt right from the start that it wasn't going to be our day today. Everything was pointing towards it.

The game itself wasn't actually a bad one, certainly not compared to some of the dross we've watched in the last few weeks, but after a decent start from us, we were soon behind. The goal was soft, and immediately I was beginning to fear the worst. Luckily, we hit straight back, Humey dragging us level. Still, we never really pushed on and probably could have gone in behind at the break.

Again, Oakwell without the half time entertainment is a weird place to be. Not least because the players coming out takes everyone by surprise. Having nearly missed the kick off, I was at it again, only just making it back in time. They need to get that PA system sorted by Saturday, it throws my whole half time routine out of sync without it.

In the second half, we were the better side and probably should have put the game to bed long before they retook the lead, thanks to some more slack defending. Hume and Macken worked really well together today, and when Macken went off for Andy Gray, most people feared the worst. But Gray did well too, and won a superb flick on for our second equaliser of the afternoon. To be fair, if anyone gets a kicking today, it should be the defence, who never looked truly comfortable all afternoon, particularly when Craig Mackail-Smith came on late on. He ran Big Darren Moore ragged, and probably could have put the visitors out of sight by the end.

For us, Hume was MOTM and I think it's probably fair, although one or two others might have claimed they'd done enough to win it. Disco played well, considering how long it's been since he started a game, and Macken was good too. Overall though, Humey probably did deserve it. He looked like he enjoyed his goals too. He certainly needed them.

I felt a bit sorry for Peterborough when Hume bundled his second goal home. Relegation is a horrible feeling, and I never want to go through again. They've battled bravely against it for a long time now. I loved our visit to London Road earlier in the season. Their fans were top class that day, and so was the ground and the whole experience in general, and since that day I was hoping they'd get out of the bottom three, but sadly it wasn't to be for them. I wish them luck in League 1, and I hope they come back up.

Us, on the other hand, I still can't bring myself to say we're safe yet, because we are in free fall at the moment. 1 win in 9 is relegation form, make no mistake, and perhaps the amount of games left this season could be our saving grace. I'm glad we don't have another 10 to play, otherwise I'd be feeling very, very twitchy after this result.

After the match, Football Heaven was rather depressing to listen to, given the dreadful results for all the local teams today. One of those days to forget for everyone, except maybe Sheffield United, who've not kicked off yet. Lets hope they round off a poor day for South Yorkshire.

Derby next week will be another challenge, but it's winnable yet again. Right now, we're probably one more win away from another Championship season guaranteed, so hopefully we'll get it here at Oakwell next week. I don't fancy making that long trip to Swansea still looking over our shoulders.

Mainly now, I just want this season to be over. If we can get another win, preferably next week, we can begin to plan for another year and put this difficult season to bed. Finally.

Two Blunt teams share goalless draw at Bramall Lane

2010-03-31T14:38:00.068+01:00

It's been a horrible week in the build up to this one. I barely slept the night before. I always get a bit flimsy before any Yorkshire derby, so that's nothing new, but this time, I really, really wanted us to beat these lot. It had been one of the first away fixtures I'd looked for when they were first announced, and I'd been counting down the days since.

Of course, recent meetings between us two have been bad-tempered (and that's being incredibly diplomatic), and Bramall Lane is a hostile enough place as it it, so I was expecting a full-blooded Yorkshire derby between two sides whose seasons have threatened to fizzle out in recent weeks, and it didn't disappoint in that respect.

For the second week in a row, I was on the receiving end of good luck messages from the Wendy in laws. Naturally, they'll cheer anyone against the Pigs, even us "dingle bastards" (their words, not mine), so yet again I found myself promising them that we'd give them something to cheer about. I don't know why I keep doing that, because I never truly believe it myself. The closer we'd got to this game, the less confident I'd been feeling. By Saturday morning, I had consigned myself to witnessing yet another derby defeat. There's been too many of them already since the start of 2010.

We had decided that getting the train through to Sheffield might not have been the smartest idea, so instead we got the train into Barnsley, and were travelling on the coach. The plan worked perfectly; we were in town in plenty of time, so after a quick bacon butty we headed to the Mount for a swift one (and it has to be one, since I've got a bladder the size of a walnut), before heading to Oakwell to board the coach.

Only, when we arrived at the ground, the coaches were nowhere in sight. I've got to say, I love Barnsley Football Club, but sometimes the words 'piss-up' and 'brewery' spring to mind. The funfair outside the Ponty End meant that the coaches had to find alternative routes into the East Stand car park, so at 12:45, when we should have been settling nicely in our seats ready to head off, we were wandering around the car park while the coaches circled the ground. And when they did eventually arrive at the East Stand (some from different sides) they circled the car park a couple of times too, followed blindly by us fans. A couple of times, they stopped, waited until everyone had gathered by the coach door, and then set off around the car park again. It was fantastic entertainment. I could have stayed in the car park all afternoon. Top stuff.

Anyway, with the coach drama finally over, we were on our way to Sheffield, the natural habitat of the Deedar. I don't know if the route into Sheffield was the normal one, but as we headed towards the city centre, the locals stopped what they were doing, transfixed by the fleet of coaches trundling by. I'd swear they've never seen a coach before. The ride through was pretty stress free, and we were soon inside Bramall Lane having a quick one before kick off.

I can't really make my mind up about Bramall Lane as a stadium. From the outside, it looks rather regimented. Inside, the view is great for the away fan. The stewards didn't seem to strict either, which I wasn't expecting. And thankfully, nothing seemed to be pelted from the upper tier either, which was nice of the home fans.

Watching the team come out for the warm up was rather worrying, since several regular faces were noticeably missing. We knew MR was struggling for fit players, but it was seeing some of the missing men like Disco and El Haimour warming up that hammered the point home.

Before the game, the screen to our left played a VT of the Blunts squad re-enacting the PE scene from Kes. Good film, although I'm not sure it was totally a coincidence that they chose to screen it against us. At least it gave the travelling fans a chance to get their first jeers in against Chris Morgan. There was plenty more to come throughout the game.

When the teams were read out, we hadn't even managed to fill the bench, a sign of the state the squad at the moment. The last few weeks have obviously taken their toll on the players, and hopefully we can have a couple of them back for Monday. The big news, however, was Hume was starting, which gave him the opportunity to line up against Morgan for the first time since his injury. It was to his credit that he was able to shake the hand of the Pigs captain, where most of us would have shook him by his neck instead.

The teams came out, and people began to try figure out who was playing where, to the back drop of that horrible 'Greasy Chip Butty' rubbish they sing before each game. Given that their fans take the piss out of us for singing 'It's Just Like Watching Brazil', I'd say they've got some nerve. It's cringe worthy.

I was buzzing now, and was ready for the kick off. For some reason, I was actually beginning to think we could beat them. We were certainly due something, and they were low on confidence at the moment. Sadly, we're also low on confidence, and that was something that was clear on both sides throughout the match.

In the first half, we absorbed a lot of pressure without ever really threatening the home goal. Hallfredsson looked good in patches, and was probably our most dangerous outlet. Typically, he picked up a knock right on half time and never recovered from it, being substituted just after the break. Despite being on the back foot, the lads played well and, aside from a couple of saves from Steele, neither side had done much by the time the referee blew the half time whistle.

During that first half, the ref had missed a few poor challenges on Gray, but his second half performance was much worse. His dismissal of Hume's claim that he'd been fouled by Morgan, who clambered up his back to gain enough leverage to win the header, was comical, with the referee running from 20 yards away, just to tap on his forehead a few times to signal that the ball had hit his head. I don't think any of us were claiming the ball had hit anything other than his head, more that he'd ridden Hume like a Blackpool donkey for it to do so. Sadly, that was one of many decisions which didn't go our way. Frankly, the less said about the drop ball in our box, the better.

In the second half, we were better, but still never looked like scoring. They missed a couple more decent chances, and shouted for a penalty whenever they got the opportunity. Of course, they would do after the return fixture at Oakwell last year. If Clattenburg had been in charge, they'd have won 4-0 yesterday. But we hung in there, and despite a few hairy moments, defended well as a unit and claimed our second clean sheet of the week.

Our MOTM was Moore, without question. Nobody played particularly badly, but Moore was a rock and dealt with every hoofed ball they threw at him. It was a convincing display by the big man. It probably helped that Jamie Ward went off injured, as he's the sort of player Moore struggles against. Once he was off the pitch, Moore never really looked flustered again.

In stoppage time, the referee did what he'd threatened to do all match and got his red card out, sending of Connolly for a second bookable offence. Most of us were amazed it wasn't one of our players, especially since quite a few had been sat on bookings for most of the game. It further served to highlight that the referee had never really had a grip on the match.

As the game drew to a close, and their lad had just been shown the red card, the Morgan/Coward banners came out in full force. I'm sure it will have hurt him, especially after reading his programme notes, in which he talked about how much he enjoyed playing against his home town club. That is only scant consolation though, given what has happened in past seasons.

The whistle blew, and it was a feeling of relief around the lower tier, as we'd hung on at times and battled to an impressive away point. It pays to remember how good Sheffield United are on their own soil, and it certainly isn't a bad result by any stretch of the imagination. That said, some people were still unhappy as we headed back to the coaches. If some of our fans were unhappy, it wasn't a patch on the home supporters. I didn't hear Radio Sheffield afterwards, but I'm told it's an entertaining listen. I just hope the fat guy who was walking through the away fans outside the ground shouting "You Barnsley bastards!" over and over got to have his say...

Back in Barnsley, the coaches were given an ovation from the roadside by a group of lads, who chanted 'Red Army' and applauded as we drove past. I'm not sure if they thought we were the team or what, but I enjoyed it all the same. They can't have been applauding us for making the journey, surely? It's only, what, 20 miles away or so? Not one of the worst trips of the season. I'm sure those who made the Plymouth journey midweek deserve it a lot more than us.

There was just enough time on the way home from Barnsley to stop off for a final pint of the day in Castleford, where we ended up alongside a couple of Leeds fans. They looked fed up, so I resisted the urge to ask them how they'd gone on. As if I didn't already know. It was one of the big talking points all the way home on the coach.

So overall then, a very good point at a very difficult place to go. Other results mean we've lost no ground on the other strugglers, and surely another win should make us safe for another season. It'll be sad if we are the team to relegate Peterborough, since it was one of my favourite away games this season, but it's a dog eat dog league and if sending them down goes towards keeping us away from the bottom three, then so be it.

And at least we're done with Yorkshire derbies for another season. I might finally get some sleep tonight.

Thanks for reading.

Donny edge forgettable Yorkshire derby

2010-03-27T18:48:00.036Z

Well, we all knew it would happen one day. After wins in our previous 3 meetings with Donny since their promotion to the Championship, they were long overdue something against us.

Before I set off yesterday, I got something I never thought I'd get; a good luck message from my girlfriends dad, a die hard Wendy-ite. Seems that Donny have ruffled a few feathers in the last couple of seasons, and apparently "it's time someone brought them back down to Earth" (his words, not mine). It's fair to say that rather than bringing them back down to Earth, we've just made it a whole lot worse.

Amidst rumours all week that Rovers had failed to sell more than 2,000 tickets for the game, plus the many warnings on the official website that all Donny fans would be kept away from town, I wasn't expecting to see many of them roaming around. I couldn't have been more wrong, and we saw plenty of them. I didn't see any trouble between the two sets of fans, which rather makes a mockery of the 'all ticket' fiasco that had surrounded this game. Luckily, the police saw the error of their ways and changed the ticketing on Friday, rather late, but better late than never.

Before the game, we headed to the ticket office to sort our Pigs tickets out, and ended up stood behind Ryan Shotton in the queue, who was trying to get some more tickets for the players lounge. He gave us an early bit of team news, confirming that big Darren Moore was back in the team, with Shotton being moved to full back. He also told us he was hoping not to get sent off, which is helpful. Just try not lunging into people, that should probably do it. He received a generous offer from a couple of lads in front of him, who offered to buy his players lounge tickets if he promised to sign for us permanently next season, and I'm taking his nervous laughter as a verbal contract. We wished him luck for the game, and he went off on his way.

We watched Crystal Palace lose to Cardiff on the telly in the pub before we set off to the ground. Cardiff winning probably rang the death knell on our playoff dream, but at least Palace weren't gaining ground on us before we'd kicked off. Although how Palace didn't get that penalty beggars belief. Poor old Paul Hart nearly had a mental breakdown chasing down 4th official, and Plymouth-match-abandoner Gavin Ward. Hart must use all his luck up getting jobs in the top two divisions, because he certainly doesn't get any on the pitch.

The walk to the ground seemed quieter than normal. I think a few people were fearing the worst today, given our recent form and their burning desire to end their poor run against us. I certainly was.

As the teams walked out, you could practically hear the shock echoing around the ground. Where was Boggy? Or Macken? Is that Andy Gray?? And Anderson? It was a totally different Barnsley team to the one we've seen recently. As it dawned on people that we were playing 4-5-1, confidence began draining from the crowd, certainly where we were sat. 4-5-1 at home?? Very negative tactics, and it showed straight away.

The game started, and even with 5 across the middle we were being totally outplayed. Nobody seemed able to keep the ball, something which Donny have proved themselves more than capable of doing. Before long, it was looking more of a case of when they scored, rather than if.

In all honesty, Robins seemed to spot the problem early as well and was quick to change things. Whether Teixeira was going off before his injury is debatable, but clearly our gameplan, which was to stifle the visitors and stop them playing their usual game, was not working. Boggy came on, and we switched to 4-4-2, and immediately began to get more of a foothold in the game.

Billy Sharp was causing a nuisance of himself and taking a battering from the crowd, although it was obvious that if he scored, we were getting it back ten fold. I couldn't bear the thought of his piggy face gloating if he hit the back of the net though.

The goal came as a sucker punch, and was as soft as any we've given away recently. Coppinger picked the ball up on the edge of the area, and eventually got the chance to curl the ball into the bottom corner. The defence stood off, and stood off, and then looked at each other totally bemused when the ball hit the net. Billy Blunt was straight onto the ball, smashing it into the net again and celebrating in front of the Ponty. God I hate him. To be fair though, after the verbal abuse he'd taken, he was well within his rights to dish some back out. Not long after, he shushed the Ponty End after he mishit a cross, and again took some abuse from the crowd. It's all part of the fun, although I'd be pretty surprised to see him in a Barnsley shirt next season after that.

The Donny fans were rightly enjoying themselves now, although we were still in the game, and hit the bar right before the half time whistle. Still, we'd been here before; 0-1 down at half time last season, nobody would have predicted what was coming next. And yesterday, after half time we were playing with much more desire and passion, and Donny were sitting further and further back, inviting us on them. We carved out some good chances, although they nearly caught us on the break a couple of times. Their ability to pass the ball well helps them out in all positions on the pitch, and a couple of times they managed to break a Barnsley attack up, and quickly hit us on the counter due to slick, passing movement.

As the match wore on, we had some glorious opportunities, mainly Colace, who should have been bursting the net with that first volley, although Old Man Sullivan pulled off a superb stop to keep it out. By the end, we seemed to run out of steam, and by the time the full time whistle arrived, Donny had weathered the worst of the storm. They'd finally got their Oakwell Championship win.

Their fans went mad, of course. After John Ryans comments in the press during the build up to this game, about us and them overtaking both Sheffield clubs and being top dogs in South Yorkshire next season, they probably saw this as some sort of statement of intent. Of course, it also put them above the Pigs in the table, meaning they were officially the top team in South Yorkshire. There's not many times I've wanted the Pigs to win, but I hope they trounce Scunny today and take it back from the Pikeys.

Hammill got the MOM award, although both Shotton and Moore might feel a bit aggrieved, as they both had decent games. Nobody played particularly badly, but too many played like it was a practice match. It was a pedestrian performance, and at this level, teams will take advantage of that.

Radio Sheffield was unbearable, as you'd imagine. Total football, sexy football, outplayed, outpassed, many different terms were used, surprisingly mostly from fans who'd not managed to make the game. Personally, I think a draw would have been fairer, but given the result at the Keepmoat earlier in the season, I think it's been evened out. Credit to Donny, there's no denying they can play. But my God, don't they just let you know it.

I was in a lousy mood all night after that result, but I've calmed down a little bit now.

I've tried to keep away from forums since the game, and allow the dust to settle a bit. We played like the season was over already, and MR has accurately described this as "unacceptable". I just hope people don't overreact too much to this, because we've achieved so much this season and it would be a shame to end it on such a sour note. I actually heard someone say they felt Robins was losing his grip, which I thought was unbelievable after the season we've had. Lets keep some perspective. It was a bad result and nowhere near the best of our ability, but we still have the right man at the helm, and we'll come good again.

I won't be at Plymouth midweek, so next time out for me will be the Pigs at Bramall Lane. After 3 straight defeats, one in a local derby, hopefully the performance will be better, the players will want it more, and we can give them what we owe them. I can't wait.

Thanks for reading.

Ipswich hoodoo rolls on

2010-03-21T11:49:00.017Z

I hate Ipswich and I hate football and I hate away games.

It was a nice, early start to the day. We set off on the long drive to Suffolk at about 9:30, with sleep in our eyes and smiles on our faces. I know we have a poor record at Portman Road, but some time that had to change. It has been a season where we've managed to end a couple of jinxes, and I was feeling fairly confident about our chances on the day.

The journey down was pretty stress free, until we hit the A14 outside Ipswich where the roadworks are causing havoc. We read the warnings on the official website, and gave ourselves plenty of time to get through them, but it's so frustrating to be so close to the ground and yet so far away. Eventually we fought our way through the queues and got ourselves parked up, and headed towards the ground.

There wasn't much around Portman Road, although we did eventually find a nice bar to grab a couple of pints, thanks to the advice of a friendly steward (the only friendly steward of the day). The pub was called the Old Orleans Bar and it was a nice place with a decent mix of fans in there. We'll be heading there next season, assuming both our sides are in the same division again.

After a couple of drinks, we headed to the ground. Before the game, I'd been told that Portman Road wasn't a nice ground, and as yesterday was my first visit, I was unsure what to expect. However, I quite liked the place. It's fairly old fashioned, or at least a couple of the stands are, and the away end is low and enclosed, which always helps generate a good atmosphere. It's a good job we did, as the home fans sat in silence for the majority of the game, although they haven't had much to cheer this season. They were a playoff favourite as the campaign kicked off, yet they've battled all season to stave off the threat of relegation. In midweek they were kept in the changing rooms for well over an hour after losing away at Watford, and they're probably desperate to get enough points on the board to survive, and move on to next season.

The frisking was a bit extreme on the way into the ground. I swear, any more vigorous and the steward would have had to marry me. But we got in, and got ourselves into the concourse in time to grab a coffee. My dad asked for a "coffee mate, please", which led to much confusion behind the counter as the bloke serving us scratched his head and said "Is that the powdered stuff?". We sort of attempted to clear up the misunderstanding, but by this time we were just ready to get sat down and watch the Reds hopefully end our nightmare run of results at Portman Road.

The game itself was dreadful. They were better in the first half, and could probably have been 2 or 3 up by the break. Luke Steele will take a lot of flack for the goal, and rightly so, because I've seen the replay several times and it's getting worse and worse. Why not just put your boot through it? Was it really a clever idea to let the ball run out? Luke clearly thought the ball was out of play, but if he puts it in the crowd, what's the worst that can happen? A throw in to them instead of us. It was a terrible piece of decision making, and it's fair to say it cost us a point yesterday. If you haven't seen it yet, you're in for a treat.

The second half, we were better but still not good, and we could still be playing now without scoring. Boggy had a slim sight of goal late on but it wasn't enough to be considered an actual 'chance'. Hume came on and looked poor again, and even his set piece delivery wasn't up to scratch, which isn't like the Iain Hume we know. Not having a reserve team is killing his season, and I hope he stays on until next year when we have the reserves back and he can get match fit.

The stewards were totally over the top all day inside the ground. I don't know what they were expecting to happen, but we were surrounded by Police up where we were sat, and anyone who stood up for so much as a second were immediately jumped on by the fuzz. Also, twice I went into the toilets and was followed by 2 stewards each time. Maybe I'm just dodgy looking or something, but they seemed intent on ruining what was threatening to be a decent atmosphere in the away end. The travelling fans were still in good voice throughout, and the Swansea chant was great. For the record, I will be going to Swansea, although hopefully I won't be sitting down.

As the full time whistle drew closer, we pressed more and more but never really looked like getting an equaliser. I was willing them forward, heading every ball, desperately wanting something to break for us. But it didn't, and we were beaten by a goal that wouldn't have looked out of place on a school football pitch.

When we got back into the car, we put Radio Suffolk on, hoping to catch some reaction to the non-event we'd just witnessed, but apparently the Championship is an afterthought, the real footballing action in Suffolk comes from the Zamaretto Division One South & West. They had match reports, manager interviews, the lot. Maybe they just don't like interviewing Roy Keane. I can't say as I'd blame them.

The journey home was a total nightmare, and just summed our day up perfectly. I wasn't aware that they take the roads in on a night in Suffolk, but we were diverted from both the A14 and the A1 through God-only-knows-where before we were finally back on route home, just in time to hit some sort of meteor crater in the road and blow a tyre. When we first got into the car outside Portman Road, our sat nav gave us an estimated return time of 8:30pm. At 10:15, I was retrieving a wheel trim on some quiet country road in the middle of nowhere. Like I said, I hate football and I hate away games.

Despite all that, I wish I was heading to Bristol on Tuesday night, but work commitments are keeping me away from Ashton Gate this season. If we play like we did yesterday, then we'll more than likely be beaten, although it all depends who turns up; the Jekyll of the Preston match, or the Hyde of Reading. Yet again, we sit pretty much an equal distance from the dogfight and the playoff fight, so all the points we can get are very much welcome. It's proving difficult to see just how our season is going to pan out.

Thanks for reading.

Reds pick off Forest...

2010-03-17T08:47:00.017Z

...you feeling that one? Pick them off?? Like scabs?? Well suit yourselves.

I really enjoyed last night. I've had a couple of stressful days at work, and this match came at just the right time. I probably would have preferred this fixture on a Saturday if you'd asked me at the start of the season, but it was a good night anyway at Oakwell last night.

The whole journey to the game was spent ranting about how shite work was with my dad, who was also having the same rant. We occasionally broke off to have a rant at the numerous Blunt fans who were whining on the radio, but other than that, it was a very stress-relieving journey to the game. I felt better for it by the time we were parked up.

Just time before the game to nip for a quick beer before getting our Ipswich tickets and heading into the ground. The atmosphere was pretty good for a Tuesday night, with 2,007 or so visiting fans in the away end. They started out making a fair bit of noise, although they gradually got quieter as the game went on. Yesterday was the first time this season I've been in my seat whilst the players were still warming up, and I'd forgotten how amusing that can be. Why do people stand with their back to the pitch when the players are practising shooting? Surely they can see what is about to happen? Needless to say, it happened again yesterday and someone got a Boggy shot right to the back of the bonce. I'm fully aware that one day it'll probably be me who gets a face full of football, especially now I've written this, but hey ho.

The match itself was, for the most part, enjoyable. In the first half, we weathered a couple of storms before grabbing the lead with either a very good or very lucky Bogdanovic header. Despite a lot of away pressure, we held strong, with the defence doing a decent job in keeping the very dangerous Forest forward line quiet. Adebola might look like a big useless lump, and to be fair he plays like one when the ball is on the deck, but in the air he's very, very effective. He won a lot of headers for them yesterday, and was a thorn in Foster and Shottons side all night.

There was a very funny moment in the first half, when their defender, Perch, kicked the ball into the West Stand, having a tantrum because the decision had gone against him. The bloke behind me shouted "Go fetch it now" and, for some reason, it really amused me. I'm not sure why I liked it so much but it really made me laugh. It sounded like a teacher at school shouting at some pupil. That's gonna stick with me, that one.

The second half was quite similar to the first, with us living on the edge for long periods, although we had a few spells where we were on top and could have put the second goal in. Boggy missed a great chance for his second of the night, and it was beginning to feel like last season when we let a lead slip at Oakwell against these lot. Earnshaw had got the goal that day, and he'd been loitering with intent all night again. It was nice of him, however, to attempt that ridiculous tackle in the box which led to a groundbreaking event in English football; a referee awarding us a penalty. Unfortunately, about 1 minute after getting that decision, last season came flooding back all over again. Thankfully, there were no hissy fits about who was taking it; Boggy stepped up and sent Camp the wrong way. It was only this weekend I was having (yet another) rant about how we never get penalties, so I suppose I can shut up now. I bet it's a while before the next one though.

At 2-0, it was never totally comfortable, and they got their inevitable goal fairly late on. But we stood firm, defended until the end and claimed a crucial 3 points, and another massive step towards safety. They had a couple of half-arsed shouts for penalties, and apparently a goal disallowed, although I missed this happen somehow. It's about time we got our bit of luck though.

The fact that they sit third says a lot about this division. I wasn't impressed with them at all, and their style of play was pretty uninspiring all night, with lots of long balls from the back designed to catch our defence out. I'm not saying that we're Brazil, or Ajax of the 90's, or Donny/Arsenal, but we play more football than they did. Fair enough if it works for them; at the end of the day, if they get promoted then they probably won't care and rightly so. But you feel that automatic promotion is slipping away from them now, and usually a good footballing side can easily overcome a hoofball outfit when it comes to the playoffs. Burnley, anyone?

At the final whistle the feeling of relief was evident, as was the enormity of that result. It could be the one that just ends those lingering fears of being sucked back into the dogfight and allows us to look back up the division instead of down. By the end of the season, that win could prove priceless.

A few down points of the night were confirmed on Radio Sheffield on the way home; mainly Donny winning again and Wendy stealing a point from the jaws of defeat, but the main thing is our result and we got a good one last night. Now we move onto Ipswich Town away from home. They don't lose much on their own soil, but if a win over a top 3 side can't give us the confidence to go there and take the game to them, then I don't know what will. Let's hope we can keep our very, very slim playoff hopes alive.

Thanks for reading.

Wasteful Reds share spoils with plucky Palace

2010-03-13T20:16:00.011Z

On Saturday morning, I was taken by that horrible feeling in my stomach that we were going to be beaten. I don't know why; maybe I still hadn't fully recovered from that mauling at Newcastle last week, but I was genuinely worried. That said, I always am on the morning of the match so I don't think it actually means anything.

The sun was blaring when I opened the curtains, and even though it was still fairly chilly, it felt like a top day for football. The girlfriend had already set off long ago to Swansea, so I'd taken my chance to get a nice lie in ahead of the game. By the time I was up and ready to set off, I was feeling a bit better about the whole day. I still couldn't see us winning though.

We only stopped in the pub for a couple, since we've had a few hectic weeks recently and have got a couple coming up too. Unfortunately we didn't spot many Palace fans wandering around the place. It's a shame really, I always like having a chat with the opposition; see how they feel about the state of their season. Anyway, we made our way down to the ground, with me still worrying about the outcome of this one. It's fair to say that safety is far from guaranteed for us just yet, and with Palace sat behind us in the Championship table, it was a good chance for them to pull us back into the dogfight. Yep, it's fair to say I was fearing the worst.

The performance on the pitch was far from the worst we've seen this season, and I do think we were rather unlucky not to have taken maximum points from this one. We made plenty of chances, but seemed to lack the clinical finish, the final touch in the final third. Players seemed to panic whenever the ball dropped in good positions. A bit more composure and we could have cantered through this one, but sadly we know it's never that easy.

In the first half, we made most of the running, although how many people thought that header by Alan Lee was sneaking in the back post? Palace are still desperately claiming it went over the line, although it didn't look like the case to me. Credit to David Preece for making the save, it was a very good stop and went a little way towards redeeming himself following that horror show at St James Park last weekend. Overall, Boggy, Hammill and one or two others could have seen us going in at half time leading. On the other hand, a couple of outstanding blocks and tackles from Hassell maybe saved us at the other end too.

Second half, for the most part, we dominated, but again lacked the cutting edge to breach the Palace goal. In fairness, whenever we did our bit right and worked the keeper, he was more than equal to it. I thought he played well, Julian Speroni, and he kept them in it, particularly as the game wore on. It was always going to be one of those days when Macken did all the hard work on the byline, before squaring to the brilliantly placed Teixeira, who blazed his effort wide with the whole goal to aim for. By that time, most of us had given in on the hope of 3 precious points. The nightmare substitution kept everyone interested for 5 minutes or so, whilst people try to figure out who the Hell was coming on and going off. Even Alfie looked confused as he took his jumper off and had to stick it back on again. That's entertainment.

Man of the match went to Bobby, which was fair enough. He was solid throughout, and made a couple of decent blocks to keep Palace at bay on the rare occasions they threatened us. Overall, as I said before, I didn't think we'd played so badly, and deserved more than a point. Palace came with a game plan and executed it well, so credit to them.

Also, Trevor Kettle deserves a mention, for making up for his dreadful first half performance with a solid second half. At times, he threatened to lose control of the match, but just about redeemed himself. It was his best performance at Oakwell, although it was never going to take much beating in all honesty.

That night was spent watching the Football League show. It was a noble effort from Claridge and co., who managed to show one chance which had already been flagged for offside and wouldn't have counted, and also managed to get Boggy and Shotton mixed up, which is no mean feat given some of the glaring differences between the two.

So next it's Forest on Tuesday night, and I feel a little better about that one now. Our record against the top teams is much more consistent, so hopefully we can provide a bit of a shock and take another step towards safety before our big clash with Ipswich, which I'm buzzing about already. Although I still don't feel confident about that one either. Maybe it's just me.

Thanks for reading.

Oops...

2010-03-07T10:00:00.014Z

Well, we cracked. Simple as that; after a dreadful piece of officialdom, we simply cracked under the pressure of being a man down against a team who are surely on their way to the Premiership.

Yesterday was always going to be one of the biggest games of the season for many people. I'd never had the opportunity to go to St James Park before, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been relishing this away game for a long time. This one had been meticulously planned for weeks prior to yesterday; every pub we intended on having a drink in, every curry house within walking distance of the ground; every detail. Nothing was left to chance.

We arrived at Wakefield Westgate train station at about half 8 and we were already surrounded by Geordie fans. They're everywhere! I even recognised my old English teacher, stood with her black and white scarf on. Half past 8, still in Yorkshire and we were already outnumbered. Once we were on the train, we got talking to another Geordie who was also making his way to the match. He talked about how gutted he was at Oakwell earlier in the season, after Bobby stuck in his late equaliser, with no mention of how we'd dominated pretty much all of the second half! Anyway, we wished each other luck and he went off to his seat.

We passed the Angel of the North and arrived in the land of the Geordie at just after 11 and got straight into O'Neills, just outside the train station. The first bloke we saw in their was totally arseholed, which was pretty impressive for the early hour of the morning, and seemed insistent that me and my dad had Salford accents, for some bizarre reason. We quickly shook him off. It wasn't long afterwards that I turned around just in time to see him try and slide on his shoes across the wooden floor and end up going down like a sack of shit. Early morning drinking, can't beat it.

A couple of beers later, we headed to the Centurion bar in the train station to meet up with a work colleague of my dads called Rich, who is a Geordie season ticket holder and was planning on taking us for a couple of drinks. He was a top bloke, and looked after us well. He was also very confident; he had a bet on 5-1 Newcastle yesterday. We had a good laugh when he told us that; it was a stupid bet, it would never happen etc...

Rich took us to the Newcastle Arms and introduced us to Neil, the landlord and another top bloke. We stayed in there and chatted to some of the locals, and again they were feeling in confident mood. A lot of them were in agreement about one thing though; they don't actually feel that they have a good team. It was a recurring theme throughout the day, that the Geordies think they have a group of overpaid, overrated players and that, when their Premiership status is achieved as it surely will be soon, they won't be good enough to survive without serious investment. They also don't think Mike Ashley is the man for the job, and they've made their feelings known on that issue throughout the campaign. Even the match programme had an article, written by Managing Director Derek Llambias, in which he "sets the record straight" about Ashleys commitment to the club. I would be surprised, given some of the opinions from the fans we spoke to, if that article had any effect on them.

Whilst we were drinking in the Newcastle Arms, I ended up talking to Paul Malcolm, a goalkeeper who had started his career at Newcastle United but had played for us 3 times during the 1986-87 season. He mentioned that 2 of his 3 appearances were against Yorkshire rivals (Bradford City and the Blunts) and he also went on to make 34 appearances for our Pikey friends in Donny. I asked him who he was cheering for and he told me he was shouting for the home team. I don't believe him though. There was a glint in his eye that just screamed "Come on you Tykes, beat them on their own soil, show us how you plan to win the playoffs, give them the Preston treatment'. I know it seems like I got a lot from that glint, but it's a knack I have. I could just tell. Anyway, he was a great guy and really friendly, and he also requested a copy of this blog today, so if you're reading this Paul, thanks for your hospitality. And I'm sorry we couldn't get the 3 points that I'm convinced you secretly wanted us to get...

When we finally headed to the ground and got in, the millions and millions of steps didn't seem too bad, certainly not as bad as I expected them to be. Maybe the few drinks beforehand numbed the pain of hiking for what seemed like an eternity, I'm not sure, but we eventually got to the top of the stand and got ourselves in place, just in time for the minutes silence, which was observed perfectly. And there we were; ready to see our beloved Tykes against Newcastle United, the runaway leaders and only team unbeaten on their own patch. But that was about to change, we were the team to finally end their domination of this league. We were gonna beat them, I could feel it.

For 40 minutes or so, it wasn't unthinkable at all. We were under pressure from the start, as you expect to be in games like this. They had the ball in the net early on but it was ruled out for an offside flag. But, despite us not particularly threatening Steve Harper in the home goal, we were playing solidly, and keeping the hosts quiet. And if we get in at half time at 0-0, anything can happen. Maybe the home fans get on their teams back, nerves begin to show, cracks appear. Half time couldn't have come quick enough.

Of course, the biggest decision of the day was about to be totally ballsed up by the man in charge. To be fair, there should never have been a decision to make; Dicko should have got rid of the ball when he had the chance, but he didn't, and Peter Lovenkrands wasted no time in rounding Luke Steele, before hitting the ground despite what seemed like no contact from the keeper. Admittedly, being 300 miles in the air makes it difficult to see exactly what had happened, but TV replays since have shown that it was a very, very soft penalty. But, it'd been given, as had a red card for Steele, and with David Preece being thrown into the mix just in time to face the resulting penalty, we were already fearing the worst. Sure enough, the salt was rubbed firmly into the wound and Lovenkrands converted the spot kick for 1-0, which is how it was at half time.

The second half was a total non-event for us. Usually, Robins works magic in the changing room with his half time team talk and the lads come out all guns blazing. We managed it at Oakwell earlier in the season against these lot, and had been unlucky not to get all 3 points. But it was never gonna happen yesterday. The goals began to flow freely for Newcastle, and we seemed to roll over and die, which is probably the most disappointing aspect of the whole day. We did manage to get one late on, but it didn't even feel like a consolation by then. David Preece took a lot of stick yesterday, and some of it was deserved, although our lack of a reserve team seems to still be costing us dearly in situations like that one. He looked desperately out of practice, and had an absolute nightmare in his first appearance since our 5-2 defeat at Q.P.R.

The fans were in good humour despite the terrible result on the pitch, as only you can be. Results like that don't often happen, and the best way to avoid wanting to jump from the top of the stadium is to make light of it. The chants about only needing 6 more, and that we were gonna win 7-6 were enjoyable, and even the Newcastle fans enjoyed our rendition of Sing When You're Winning. It was very reminiscent of our Premiership season, where chants like that were the norm every weekend. As I say, sometimes you have to just enjoy the day and have a laugh about it, because events on the pitch were never going to make anyone feel better.

Man of the Match?? My God, I don't know where to begin. David Preece? No, obviously that is a joke. Honestly, it's too difficult this week, I won't even attempt it. Nobody can come out of this game with any credit, unfortunately. 6-1 is just too damaging.

After the game, we headed to O'Neills again, being told numerous times throughout the walk back that it "wasn't a 6-1 game". It's nice that people were trying to make us feel better, but it really didn't work. I actually think it was a 6-1 game, but probably wouldn't have been had it not been for that one big moment which went against us in the first half. Again, we spent a good hour or so talking to various people about the days events. People often say that the Geordies are friendly folk, and yesterday really proved that. There's been no away game this season where that many people have been as keen to have a chat as yesterday, both before and after the game, so they deserve a lot of praise for that. That's what away days should be about. Anyway, after a couple of pints, as we had done so many times during the day, we shook some hands, wished people luck, and headed off for a curry before the train home.

The train journey home seemed much longer than it had earlier, and I could barely keep my eyes open all the way home. When we finally got back into Wakefield, the first person I saw was wearing a Newcastle shirt and kindly pointed out the scoreline. Like I needed any reminding of that. Support your local team you gloryhunters! Not that I'm feeling bitter or anything, you understand...

So there it is. The game everyone was looking forward to, the day out I'd been planning for weeks, and we'd been routed 6-1. It's worth saying that every part of the day apart from the football had been terrific, and all the people we'd met and spoken to had been great, so as far as away days go, it was still a really good one. And we never expected anything from this match. It was a freebie, and hopefully the scoreline won't have damaged confidence enough to affect the rest of our season for us. We've still got work to do to ensure we don't get dragged back into the battle at the bottom. Crystal Palace next week is a massive, massive game for us.

Thanks for reading.

The Burning Question Pt. 2

2010-03-03T14:01:00.022Z

The next question has been posted on the official website, and again I'll use it to fill the gap between now and our weekend skirmish with the runaway leaders Newcastle United.

What has been the highpoint for you whilst supporting Barnsley? And the low point?

Both are very difficult questions and I'm sure the chap putting this book together will get quite a varied bunch of answers for this section. Many people will have different answers for very different reasons. I'll chuck my two cents in, although again I won't be sending this in, just as a bit of fun really.

My lowest moment is probably the 93 minutes before Isaiah Rankin finally secured our League 1 status in the 2002/03 season, at home against Brentford. The whole match was a sickener from the beginning right until that dramatic, dramatic finish. After the disappointment of the previous season, when we seemed to just accept our relegation without so much as a fight, I think most people feared the worst and I was no different. It felt like the shortest game I've ever sat through; the minutes flew away and it seemed inevitable that we'd need something from champions Wigan Athletic on the final day to secure our place for another season. Thankfully, we nicked that precious goal right at the death, and staved off the threat of relegation with virtually the last kick of our final home game. Can you imagine what could have happened to us had that not gone in? Would we be back at our current level now? Would we we have fallen even further into the depths of the Football League? It doesn't even bear thinking about really. As good as that winner felt, the whole match before that was very, very low, to see our club in such a dreadful state and staring into the abyss.

And the highest? Promotion to the top flight of English football is always going to take some beating, along with a few others, but for me it's our playoff final against Ipswich Town in the 1999/00 season. It wins out for many different reasons in my eyes. It was the first time I'd watched the Reds in anything other than a league or cup game. And since that glorious day at the old Wembley, I've seen us win at the Millennium Stadium and lose the FA Cup Semi Final at the new, updated version of the famous twin towers not so long ago, and nothing has come close.

The whole day was amazing from start to finish. The sun was beaming down throughout, and I always remember walking up Wembley Way, already knowing that the first sight of the pitch was going to be a breathtaking moment. I wasn't disappointed either; I don't think I'll ever love a stadium as much as I do the Wembley of old (Oakwell excluded, obviously). The towers, the general feel of the place, the way could could almost feel the history of the place jumping out of the walls, and the beautiful green grass bathed in the sunlight; it was perfection. The Old Wembley vs. the New Wembley? Insulting to even consider it a contest, in my opinion.

Of course, we lost the game 4-2, despite being agonisingly close to returning to the promised land. After Hignetts rather... ahem... lucky opener, we seemed so close but it wasn't destined to be that day. Maybe, had Barnard converted that penalty or if Georgi could have hit the back of the net with that header just before their 4th, things could have been different. Overall, given our results against the Tractor Boys in that campaign, it's difficult to argue with their promotion. In fact, the following season they won a place in Europe, and then went on to beat Inter Milan, so they didn't do too bad out of it. And us? Well, things went a bit downhill for us after that...

I still remember sitting feeling proud of our performance, and yet gutted that we had just fallen short when that final whistle blew. I also remember being proud of the Reds fans staying behind to applaud our team and our opponents who'd beaten us fairly and squarely. Relations between us on Ipswich have always been pleasant since that day, as I think they recognised the amount of respect we showed to them. It's how football should be. Afterwards, the journey home was surprisingly upbeat and totally out of place with the result. There aren't many defeats that leave you still feeling positive, but that was one of them. Overall, for the whole day and experience, it always sticks in my mind as my greatest day of being a Reds fan.

Thanks for reading.

Reds see off the seasiders

2010-02-28T22:16:00.012Z

That's another step towards safety then. And it was a lot more straightforward than I thought it would be really against a usually decent Blackpool side.

It was an early one yesterday morning for me, as I had to run the missus round to her dads nice and early so they could get on their way to Reading for the Wendy game. Yep, they made that long old trip and are feeling thoroughly miserable today and now she's refusing to look at the league table, or watch any of the highlights. In that position, I usually prefer to just get on with it; have a look, take it on the chin and then move on to the next game, but whatever works for her.

We got into the pub just in time on Saturday to see Wayne Bridge perform his incredible dummy and dodge the waiting, outstretched hand of John Terry. That was a classic moment wasn't it? I would have done exactly the same to him as well, it was perfectly executed. Some people may say it's childish, but I can't imagine I'd have been in any mood for niceties either after going though what he has the last few weeks. The pub was packed out, and we ended up talking to a couple of lads in tangerine. Their first question was whether Adam Hammill has learned to cross yet, and we responded with how much we'd rather have Hammill than Charlie Adam. I don't think they believed us, although I didn't believe myself either. They also indicated that Blackpool owe us one after our win at Bloomfield Road earlier in the season, so revenge was on the cards. We told them about our experience of being at the seaside earlier in the season, where we struggled to find a decent pint anywhere, and they gave us a recommendation for next time, assuming that both of our teams remain in the same division of course. They were a good crack and after we'd shook hands and wished them luck for the remainder of the campaign it was off to the bookies for a quick flutter.

The bet yesterday was an accumulator on every Championship fixture, ours included. We managed to get 9 out of the 12, although typically Barnsley let us down by not drawing the game. Do we ever draw anymore?? Not that I'm complaining when we're winning, but it's been a while. We'd have made more than a million pounds on that yesterday, but us, Preston and Derby let us down so there we go. We'll have another go next weekend, and see where it gets us.

Anyway, the game wasn't great to watch, and both teams were average, but the points went the right way for me. Blackpool were very, very lacklustre, and we never really looked like conceding, which is a novelty against our usually shaky back line. Shotton played well after winning his place back in the side, following his 4 game ban. Hume was impressive after he came on too, and took his goal very well. He also showed a lot of urgency in trying to win the ball, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him starting next week. The atmosphere was very subdued in the ground from both sets of fans, although the teams on the pitch didn't give the fans much to sing about. Yet again, we were a much better outfit in the second half, and for that reason I think we shaded it.

The Man of the Match went to Doyle, and I think that, yet again, that was a decent shout. I've been so impressed with him since he signed for us, and he only seems to be getting better every week. Again, I thought he controlled the midfield for us, and handled the difficult task of keeping Charlie Adam out of the game very well. Robins said it was Adams poorest game of the season, which is probably true, although we stifled him really well. Overall, it was a hard working display, not a classic by any stretch but another important 3 points.

Afterwards, following a couple more pints in the boozer, it was time to jump on the train home, with the warm feeling of being just outside the playoffs in my stomach. In terms of the match, we were never challenged in the way I thought we would be, and I was disappointed with the away side, but, nonetheless, you can only beat what's in front of you, and credit to the lads for doing that.

Next week is a freebie for us now. We're not expected to get anything at Newcastle, so we can go there with no pressure on us and hopefully snatch something away from the league leaders. I'm buzzing about it already, it's going to be a great day out.

Thanks for reading.

The Burning Question

2010-02-24T17:04:00.031Z

"Why do you support Barnsley? Why is it your club, your passion?

That's the question that was asked by the official club website, on behalf of a Reds fan who intends to collate the answers and publish a book on all things Barnsley FC, which I will undoubtedly be purchasing on it's release (I'm a sucker for anything with the BFC logo on). I figured that, since we're in the middle of a quiet week, with no match until the Seasiders visit on Saturday, I'd have a pop at answering the above question. I probably won't be sending it in, but it'll be something to fill the silence.

Controversially, I'm a bit of an outsider when it comes to Barnsley Football Club. I was born and raised in West Yorkshire, in a mining town called Featherstone, which is probably most well known for it's professional rugby league club, Featherstone Rovers. 'Fev' is obviously much more of a rugby town than a footballing town, and you're already an outsider if you aren't a Rover from birth. I don't mind a bit of rugby league, and always look out for how the Rovers are getting on, but football was always my first passion.

As you can imagine, for the ones who do follow football rather than rugby, West Yorkshire is Leeds territory. What is it they say about rats? Never more than 10 feet from one? Well, that's how it works with Leeds fans and West Yorkshire towns like the one I grew up in. Of course, you have all your other, more common fans milling around; Man Utd, Newcastle, Liverpool, just like you do pretty much anywhere in this country, but even they're in the minority, dwarfed by the shadow of the (ex) Premiership club from Elland Road. I don't know if times have changed since I was last there, though I'd imagine they have; probably all Chelsea, Man City and LA Galaxy shirts these days.

My dad had no affiliation with Barnsley whatsoever, and neither did any of my family. I had no ancestors who originated from there, and on paper there was no direct link which would explain why I spend most of my free time (and money) at Oakwell. In fact, my dad had grown up in Sunderland and had a strong connection with the Mackems, although he had also been a regular at Old Trafford in the past and still felt strongly about his Red Devils too. I guess it was a bit of a bolt from the blue, me becoming a Reds fan. I think he still blames me to this day, especially through some of the lower times.

I was only rather young when I chose to follow the Reds. I was fascinated by the football on TV; the noises of the crowd and the spontaneous singing, or the grown men crying with delight or with despair depending on where their team was heading. After growing up being a young armchair fan, it seemed like the most natural step to start attending games. My dad gave me a choice; any local team with the exception of Leeds. I didn't wanna follow Leeds anyway; I guess even at a young age I could tell their fans were quite undesirable. I made my choice and went for the Reds. I can't really answer why; in terms of popularity, Wednesday were ahead at that time, and in terms of closeness, Huddersfield Town would have been an easier choice, but when you're a kid that sort of logic isn't really what you consider. Maybe I just like an underdog, and we're certainly that.

I can't really remember my first game I attended at Oakwell, although certain things stand out. It was either Q.P.R or Grimsby, but it's incredibly shady. I don't even remember if we won or not, although I think we did. I seem to remember Neil Shipperley scoring in front of the away end. But the important things are still as clear as ever; the sight of the stands towering over me, the smells and tastes hovering in the air. We were in the West stand that night, which was a mind-blowing experience for a young kid attending his first ever football match. Of course, the West stand just oozes history and tradition, and even though since that night I've moved all over the ground, eventually settling on the Ponty End, it made a lasting impression on me and I intend to move back there one day, if not just for nostalgia puposes.

Despite being an outsider in terms of the town, following the Reds just feels like you're part of something. Does every club have that feeling? Their fans would probably tell you that their club is the same, but I doubt any other club could have had the impact this one has had on me. Oakwell is the scene of every football dream and nightmare I've ever had; it's been the scene of desperation, the scene of humour, desire, spirit; of being high as a kite and low as a snakes belly. Most of all, it's been the scene of total agony and complete ecstasy. It's a rollercoaster that you can't escape from, and yet you don't want to anyway. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, you feel like packing it all in. I've gone through years of liking and disliking this club, changing as often as the wind. But in spite of that; in spite of me going through days of disliking this club, I've never once fallen out of love with it. I'm as hooked as the next person. That's what makes the long trips to Plymouth Argyle or Southampton possible. It's a feeling of belonging, which simply can't be replicated in any other walk of life.

But most of all, it's a feeling of brotherhood with fellow Reds fans. It's that knowing nod to someone in the street, when you're both wearing your colours. Or chatting to a fellow Red in some strange town in some nowhere part of the country, simply because you're both there for the same reason. You'd never visit there normally, and probably never meet half of the people you do meet if it wasn't for Barnsley FC. You're going over the top together, be it to witness a smashing 4-0 win, or a heartbreaking abandonment when you're 4-1 ahead and cruising. I feel some affiliation with every single football fan in this country, because we all fight in the same battle every week; navigating the country, finding friends all over the place and showing our support to our team. That said, it may be the same battle, but the war includes only us Reds.

These days, my dad tells people he's a Reds fan. He's turned his back on any of the other teams he's followed and settled on my first love; BFC. And I have a link to this town and this club that I hope will travel for generations through my family. My Wednesday-ite missus has different views, of course, but that's for another day. Ultimately, the warm, welcoming feeling that I get every time I go to any game is what keeps me coming back. It's that feeling of acceptance, of camaraderie, that really makes the club appeal to me. I've been supporting them for a long old while now, and despite all the anger, sadness, joy and anguish (most of those emotions come in the same 90 minutes) I couldn't and wouldn't want to trade it in for any other thing or any other team. Especially not Leeds.

Thanks for reading.

Maiden Double for the Super Reds

2010-02-22T16:03:00.010Z

It was the first proper Saturday away game I've missed since Reading, and one I was looking forward to, so it's Sods Law that the lads go and do that. Maybe I'll miss a few more in future.

We've all heard the radio commentary, and probably all seen the highlights by now. It was tense, nervous listening on Saturday afternoon. I had a 'family gathering' to help organise and attend, and unfortunately this was the game to fall foul to it. It could have been worse though; I had to grovel to change it from the first weekend in March, and our trip out to St James Park, although it was still difficult to listen on the t'internet. I hate missing away games, especially after a result like that.

It sounds like a vintage away performance from us, which was helped by us grabbing two early goals. After that, other than a few spells of pressure from the home side (which was always going to be the case) we were steady away, and could have even added one or two more, although I'm not greedy, the two will do just fine. It'll take a lot of beating that one, it could well be our most impressive win of the season. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there to witness it myself. I'm also gutted that I've missed our first double of this season, and I'm hoping I'll be around to witness the second one on Saturday.

Special mention has to go to Danny Bogdanovic, of course, who seems to be playing for his new deal. There's been articles in the papers today quoting the lad talking about his love for the club, the town and the fans, and I for one would be very happy with him signing a new deal. A fully fit, on the boil Danny Bogdanovic is probably our most lethal finisher at the club currently, and I do think he could be the man to grab us 20+ a season. He's struggled to maintain his fitness and keep his first team spot, and still managed a pretty impressive goal return for us, so credit to him.

That's it for today then, until playoff chasing Blackpool at the weekend. At least we know we can play against the top half teams, so hopefully we'll give them a decent game. Remember playing them last season? That was a miserable day, and I genuinely felt we were going down after they beat us at Oakwell. We owe them something for that. I hope we can build on a fantastic weekends work on Saturday.

Thanks for reading.

Heartbreak at Glanford Park

2010-02-17T13:04:00.019Z

How much does that one sting today? Our inability to defend a set piece, and then to clear our lines after several attempts, has cost us what would have been a decent point, considering how we played. But at least we know how Cardiff felt at Oakwell last year, and we had a far shorted journey home than they did!

Before this game, it was difficult to think of anything other than our earlier visit to Glanford Park in that dismal FA Cup game in January. That day we were terrible, every single one of them in a red shirt (and a few in claret and blue, as well). Nobody performed well enough, and it was a poor start to 2010. Even so, it was still difficult to imagine we could be as bad as that again. Surely this time, with precious league points up for grabs, we'd turn up and give the sold-out away end something to celebrate?

The journey to Scunthorpe was as easy as ever; the Barnsley match programme on Saturday said that Scunny was one of the easiest grounds in the football league to find, and that's no exaggeration, so we were there in plenty of time to get parked up and get into the Farmhouse pub just outside the ground. The pub was packed with Reds fans, just as it had been all those weeks ago on FA Cup 3rd round day, and the atmosphere was building up. Also, there were a few Scunny fans milling about in the boozer too; their absence was notable last time.

The ground is an unusual one. It opened in 1988, but it seems much, much older than that. The home section behind the nets is still standing room, and it's a massive shame that the away end isn't the same, otherwise this one would be a fantastic away day, especially on a Saturday. Those standing sections give the atmosphere a boost like nothing else can. Inside, the ground is very small and cramped and only seems to have one way in and out of everything. The toilets are impossible to navigate through; it took me about 15 minutes to get in and out, but overall, I don't actually mind the place at all, and I'd rather be at Scunny than at somewhere like the Ricoh Arena on a cold Tuesday night in February.

I was sat very near to the back row right behind the nets. For those who were sat around me, they'll know just how dreadful those particular seats were. The view wasn't great, as we were directly behind a supporting post and the scoreboard that hangs down from the top of the stand, but that wasn't the problem; the problem was that we were sat directly next to the 'Anti-Andy Gray Society'. For those who weren't close enough to hear about this, then I apologise for ranting, but for those who heard them, what the Hell were they on?! They had already shouted that they hoped Gray had his leg broken before the game had kicked off, and the abuse only got worse as the clock ticked on. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think Gray had a good game yesterday, far from it. But the level of abuse they gave the lad was unacceptable. Shouting for him to break a hip or to be shot, and calling him all manner of insulting names, it was just too much. Not to mention continuously getting Foster and Moore mixed up, and shouting comments about Luke Steele, who, because of the closeness of the stand to the pitch, clearly heard these drunken arseholes and their abuse. These lads were relentless, and it ruined the game for many people who were sat around them. Not one chant originated from the area, because the whole block just felt so tense. People were telling them to be quiet, to get behind the team instead of abusing them, but it didn't work, and they ruined the game for many people.

As I said, I don't mind people giving stick when it's deserved, but they had already made very loud comments about several players before a ball had been kicked. Is that supposed to be supportive? Is that what we call getting behind the players these days? I was ashamed to be supporting the same team as them, and I hope that their heads are throbbing this morning as the alcohol wears off. I also hope they are embarrassed by themselves today, although I doubt they will be. Clearly they don't give a shit about the team, and the sooner they piss off to watch someone else, the better.

That feels a bit better now that's out of my system.

Anyway, the game was poor, and we were poor. Robins thinks we should have had all three; I don't agree with that. I thought Scunny deserved it. I do think that, had we pushed on after the equaliser, then we could have nicked it, but it would have been harsh on the hosts. Nobody on our side stood out, so a MOTM award is difficult. Boggy, maybe? He got on and scored, which is a lot more than anyone else. I'd be tempted to give it to Gray, just to shut the morons behind me up, but certainly not on merit of his performance. On nights like last night, picking someone out of the bunch of them feels pointless, because none of them really did enough.

Teixeira missed a sitter which was up there with that Auf Weidersehn miss on Saturday against Plymouth, and at the back we looked shaky all night. One plus would be the return of Bobby Hassell, who had to step into the fray when Trippier went off crocked. He did well to say he hadn't played in so long, which is just as well, since the injury worries at the back are starting to pile up again. Also, Moore had a decent game too, although he took some stick from people around me which I didn't think he deserved. There were worse performers than him. Also, Steele has apparently lost that confidence in his kicking that he seemed to have picked up recently, which is a shame because when he's confident he's a great keeper.

Some people where slagging Robins off for not making the correct changes; he made the substitutions that everyone was calling for. Sometimes he can seem a bit negative, but his line up yesterday was almost the exact same as the Preston team a couple of weeks ago, so what's changed since then? Why has that performance not appeared on a pitch since? These are questions that Robins needs to answer, but I'm still confident he will so getting behind them is gonna be key at this point in the season.

Cardiff away is a write off, lets be honest. Our record there is awful, and I don't feel confident it's gonna change after this weekend. But there's loads of points to fight for this season, and where would we be now if MR hadn't turned us around? Rock bottom, planning for life back in League 1? I'll take where we are right now (13th) and finish the season, get ready for the next one, because after the start we had, it's a fantastic achievement for us. It's not the time for panic, it's the time to remember where we were, where we are and potentially where we could be in the future.

Thanks for reading.

More Plymouth Misery

2010-02-13T18:15:00.029Z

We're one day before Valentines Day, so I had a busy day ahead today aside from the match with lowly Plymouth Argyle. I was whizzing home after this game to start cooking a romantic meal for the missus, and then throwing on a shirt and hitting the town for a few drinks, hopefully secure in the knowledge that the Reds had won another priceless 3 points in their push for the playoffs, and condemned the relegation-haunted visitors to yet another away defeat. Football. It's shit sometimes, isn't it?

To be honest, Plymouth are becoming something of an unwelcome niggle this season for us. Obviously, we all know the story about abandonments, postponements, and so on. But today should have been our opportunity to put a few things straight. Sadly, things never quite work out like that. And so, I now have to cook a romantic meal for a gloating Sheffield Wednesday fan, and then take her out round the town, feeling as helpless as the team looked on the pitch today.

The pub beforehand was subdued. Did everyone know something I didn't?? Maybe they knew that all good things come to an end; that our talk of the playoffs was premature and that there's still lots of work to be done before we can truly kiss goodbye to the dogfight going on below us. Maybe. Or maybe people just knew that Plymouth were harbouring an absolutely woeful away record, and we were just the team to hand them the charity they needed. Deep down, I think I even knew that myself.

Talking to one of the Green Army beforehand, he seemed to have already accepted his clubs relegation from this division. To be fair, they haven't been given much reason to be confident all season, and particularly away from Home Park. On paper, this was a routine home win, and the bookies certainly saw it that way. I was so, so close to sticking some money on the away team today; I have a reputation for being able to change the course of footballing history by betting on something, because inevitably the opposite always happens. I bet on Liverpool and Chelsea all those seasons ago in the FA Cup, simply to help the Reds cause. It cost me some hard earned money, although it was totally worth it. The only thing that stopped me today was the fact that I'd look a bit of an oddball walking into the bookies in Barnsley, in my Barnsley shirt, and sticking money on the away side. Besides, I haven't done it all season, so I decided not to start now and jinx it. Maybe, thinking back, deep down I knew we weren't destined to win today. Events on the pitch certainly indicated that was the case. It was your stereotypical 'not our day today' sort of performance.

The game was dreadful from start to finish. We shaded a first half in which chances were few and far between, although the chances that were created mostly came for us, and mostly ended up high up in the sparsely populated away end. Our wastefulness has been coming to the forefront more and more these last few games, Preston aside, and today it was glaring. The pitch wasn't great either, with mud patches all over and a sizable puddle in the final third towards the Ponty end, which was rolled away during the half time interval. We pride ourselves on being good hosts here at Oakwell, so maybe we were just making Plymouth feel more at home by playing the vast majority of the game on a cabbage patch. It certainly didn't help the team play the decent brand of football we've been pushing for recently.

The second half was just shocking. We were terrible. Plymouth looked more urgent, more aggressive, and far more likely to score than we did, which was reflected in the scoreline. Robins made changes, such as bringing Danny Bogdanovic on, but it never really looked like it was gonna work. For some reason, today wasn't our day. Or maybe, as I said before, Plymouth are just destined to enjoy all their meetings (and non-meetings) with us this season. If I had to go for a Man of the Match today, I'd probably go for Colace, because he took his goal well and was probably the best of a very bad bunch. I was stunned that Teixeira got it, because I didn't think it was his vintage best at all. Maybe the club think that giving him MOTM awards every week will convince him to come here at the end of the campaign, which is genius if that is the case, but I don't think he was our most outstanding player today. It was probably a very tough call for the sponsors though.

Without wanting to sound bitter, I do think we've seen no worse this season than Plymouth. They were difficult to watch, with plenty of gamesmanship and very little quality, although they're scrapping for their lives and probably are willing to do anything to pick up points, particularly at this stage of the season. And, as I said to my dad after the match, many of our fans will consider them the worst we've played this season, but they may well reciprocate that feeling, which doesn't bode well for the rest of the campaign. The best team won today, and they deserved their 3 points, so fair play to them.

I was straight home after the game, as I said before, so I didn't hear much reaction after the game, apart from on Radio Sheffield, which was full of the usual Blunt bleating, and only the occasional opinion of one of our lot. One bloke was straight on there going on about dropping Luke Steele, although I don't think the lad did too much wrong to be fair. He might have been caught out for the third, but I don't think many keepers would have been in a different position than Luke, and 99 times out of 100 that shot could fly anywhere. Basically, it was a freak, and I don't think Steele was bad at all today. His kicking seemed to have improved too. The second lad I heard on the radio was far more optimistic, pointing out that we were still in a fantastic position, much better than anyone expected, and that we should get behind the Reds. He's right, but it doesn't stop this one from stinging like Hell.

Scunthorpe away on Tuesday looks far more daunting now. They got a tonking today too, and will be hoping to put it right just the same as us. Last time I was there it was a disaster, we never started, and that can't happen again. That lad from Radio Sheffield is right; we're in a far better position than expected. But it won't last if we don't start beating the teams below us in the league. It's a massive game now, and I'm feeling the nerves already.

Thanks for reading.

Back Down To Earth

2010-02-09T10:21:00.065Z

The Playoff bandwagon didn't so much slow down as veer off the road and crash into a ditch after a poor display against fellow playoff chasers/relegation battlers Celti.. erm, Middlesbrough.

Since beating Watford at Oakwell on Saturday, it's been a pretty stressful few days, so I was looking forward to yesterdays game. Away days are great to chill out and get away from stuff for a couple of hours. Providing, of course, that the team don't provide you with yet more stress on the pitch.

Before the game, I knew we were gonna lose this one for one simple reason; everything went perfectly to plan all night. The ride through to Middlesbrough was as straightforward as it could have been, with no traffic and no unscheduled detours through the Middlesbrough backstreets. My sat-nav must have taken offence at my harsh words in my Preston post, 'cos it straightened up its act and behaved itself all night. As it happens, the ground is signposted from quite far back anyway, so navigating my way through the dreadful weather conditions was made that little bit easier.

It was my first journey to the Riverside Stadium, and I was impressed. Most of these newer grounds are often accused of being bland and soulless, or lacking character, but 'Boro didn't feel that way. Despite its relatively young age, it's seen a lot of good and bad times already and had a totally different feel to stadiums like the Ricoh Arena or Madejski Stadium. Also, the old Ayresome Park gates have been located at the Riverside to give it a traditional feel, and I liked that touch. Overall, it's an impressive ground both inside and out.

We got into the concourse nice and early, plenty of time to grab a bite to eat and a swift Carlsberg. The best way to describe the burgers at the Riverside is that they're like the sort you get at Burger King. For some people, that's unacceptable, but since I'm quite partial to a BK, I could probably have stayed in that concourse eating them all night. Anyway, once we'd polished off the grub, we had ten minutes watching the rather strange MTV (Middlesbrough TV, not the other one) that was being broadcast, which was complete with some rather cringe worthy shots of various 'Boro players posing for the camera. It also managed to spell a couple of our lads names wrong; notably Fredson, minus the 'Half'. I'm beginning to worry about Emil; it can't be long before he's suffering from an identity crisis. Last week at Preston, he was Auf Weidersehn, this week he's Fredson, what next? No wonder he looked so lost on the pitch, he hasn't got a clue who he is anymore.

Just before heading to the seats, I buttoned up the coat, pulled all jumpers down and tightened up ready for the ice cold weather. The concourse was freezing, and I was dreading walking out to the pitch side for the first time. I'd only brought a little jacket, and it was beginning to feel like I'd made a schoolboy error. It was a nice surprise, then, that the design of the stadium meant that it was actually pretty mild by the time we were sat down, due to the roof covering the whole away end and the whole ground being enclosed. And after seeing the way the rain water was splashing up at pitch side, I wasn't jealous of the players being out there.

The game itself was exactly as it's been all season; a game of two halves. We were beyond dreadful for all but the first 7-8 minutes in the first half, and if we'd been trailing at half time 4-0 it wouldn't have flattered them. I don't think they were as outstanding as some match reports would have you believe, rather that time and time again we needlessly gave them possession. They weren't having to work too hard to win the ball, which at this level is criminal. We also looked totally toothless going forward, and never looked like managing a shot, never mind scoring. And yet again, we resorted to hoofing the ball forward, which is so frustrating after seeing what we can do with the ball at our feet at Preston just a week ago. The half time whistle couldn't come soon enough in this one, and 2-0 was a decent scoreline considering how much worse it could have been.

After nipping down at half time to passively smoke a couple of cartons of cigs in the toilets, I was ready for the second half. We do have previous for turning games around after the break, and 'Boro know this first hand from their Oakwell trip before the new year, so it's always impossible to write us off. We started with more urgency than we had first half, although the quality was still poor and overall we got what we deserved; nothing. Our goal came from our first shot on target, and although both Gray and Rodriguez missed very good chances to steal a point, it was a fair result overall. Without wanting to sound bitter, 'Boro weren't particularly outstanding, but most of the time they didn't need to be.

The away fans were in fine voice again throughout, and even managed to cram in a couple of contenders for Chant of the Season; particularly the 'Good Refs' chant immediately after the celebrations for our solitary free kick of the evening, but any of the Celtic based songs that were on offer too. Although I must say it raised a smile when the England chant went up, shortly after local boy Hugo Colace scored for his boyhood heroes., The irony wasn't lost for that one. As for Man of the Match, it's a tough call today, but I think I'd give it to Steele, who kept the score down in the first half with some fine saves and looked generally steady throughout the night. Doyle looked decent again, although his performance dipped as the game went on, and he totally lost it when he was switched to right back. Anderson was poor and will be lucky to keep his place at the weekend. Hammill was just his usual, frustrating self.

The drive home after the game was quiet and rather sombre. I don't think we'd really expected anything at 'Boro, but it just felt like a let down that the team didn't turn up. I can take being beaten by the better team, but it's more difficult to accept when we've let them have it easier than we should have. Other results on the night mean that the Championship is wide open, piling more pressure on us for Saturday against our old foes Plymouth. On paper, it's very winnable, but if we do slip up, the table starts looking a bit worrying again.

Still, we've had our bad performance, so we look forward to seeing a decent one at the weekend. It does worry me for Scunny away next Tuesday, but I've enjoyed the last couple of midweek away days so I look forward to it already. And I'll definitely be remembering to take the big coat for that one.

Thanks for reading.

Reds gatecrash the top ten

2010-02-07T12:49:00.043Z

It wasn't a classic, but the playoff bandwagon picked up a bit more pace yesterday after that narrow, just about deserved 1-0 over the Hornets.

I wasn't so confident about this one. Their away run is terrible, but who else in this division would you pick to play when you can't buy a win on the road ahead of us? We always seem to be the ones who give teams respite from whatever rut they're in; we've got history for it (Sheffield Wednesday, anyone?) so I was rather worried about this game. Then again, I do tend to worry about most games anyway so that usually doesn't indicate anything. As it happens, my instincts were to be proven wrong again, although you won't find me complaining too much today.

The atmosphere in the pub beforehand was pretty lively; it was a big match for both teams, this one. It was one of those games that could shape the season for whichever team managed to nick the points. While we were pulling Preston to pieces in midweek, Watford were doing a real number on our Blunt neighbours at Vicarage Road, and they'll have been confident going into this one. There wasn't many Watford fans buzzing around before the match, which was a shame 'cos it's nice to have a natter with them, and get a feel for how their season is panning out. Not so long ago, they were on the brink of administration and it looked like a point deduction and a relegation scrap, so it's testament to them that they, like us, are breathing down the neck of the playoffs.

On the pitch, it was always gonna be a tall order for us to replicate the Preston performance, and it never got to those heights. Again though, the lads really dug in, and probably just about deserved this one. Darren Moore was back to his best after his episode at Deepdale, and Doyle was fantastic yet again. And after smacking the post yesterday, he's getting closer to getting a goal for us too, so if I was a 'Boro fan I'd be worried about him on Tuesday night. Luke Steele deserves a mention too; that save at the end was the difference between one point and all three, no question. It was destined for the top corner, and it was a class save. He even looked more solid when it came to claiming crosses, so fair play to him. The only thing in question yesterday was his kicking, which looked suspect on several occasions, although some of the dreadful backpasses he was tasked with clearing were very bizarre. If you pushed me for a man of the match, I'd probably go with Doyle again, simply for yet again rolling his sleeves up and doing the dirty work with minimum fuss. He's getting better every game, that kid, and getting him for nothing was an absolute steal.

The only one who came out of this one badly, apart from the referee who was, yet again, pretty poor throughout, was young Ryan Shotton, who picked up his second red card of the season with a needless, reckless tackle. Sometimes the young lad seems to lose his head, and we're lucky it didn't cost us the points yesterday. Maybe Robins needs to have a word in his ear, and tell him to calm himself down a bit. As I said before, it was a needless challenge yesterday, and his suspension could cause us problems for Tuesday night if Bobby Hassell isn't ready to return.

He's getting closer...

Watford were a bit unlucky yesterday, and even after Steele pulled off that save could have nicked an equaliser, but overall it was a good, solid display from the Reds, and the sort of display that we need to reproduce if we want to keep pushing up the division. The key word that is thrown around is consistency; we need more of it and this was a step in the right direction. It was also another clean sheet; something else that we need more of.

In tarn after the game, it was celebration time, particularly any time the Championship table popped up on Sky Sports News, showing us sat proudly in 9th place. Me and my old man ended up chatting with a bloke who travelled from outside Halifax to get to the home games, and was having himself a swift one before his trek home on various methods of public transport. He was refusing to get too carried away, which is probably for the best, but sometimes you just have to take the highs and enjoy them while you can, because they don't last nearly as long as they ought to.

'Boro on Tuesday is gonna be a tough one. I'll be making that journey to the Riverside, weather permitting, full of confidence that if the same team that ripped Preston to shreds turns up, we can certainly pull of another big result. They've signed quite a few have 'Boro, most of them from Celtic, but their home form isn't great, so if we can go there on a high and play the way we know we can, hopefully we'll take another step towards that playoff race.

Thanks for reading.

Deepdale Delight for Super Reds

2010-02-01T09:05:00.058Z

Hands up, and be honest, who saw that coming?

I certainly didn't, particularly after the shambles at Reading last weekend. If we can't even manage one measly attempt on target against a side second bottom in the league, what chance did we have at Preston, a team with an impressive home record?

The journey to Deepdale was interesting, to say the least. After queueing in traffic for almost an hour on the M62, we finally managed to break the 50mph barrier and get to Lancashire. That wasn't the end of the fun, though. It never is when your sat-nav is nothing more than a liar. To be fair, I do manage to get lost going to most away games, despite all my meticulous planning beforehand. I actually managed to get lost going to Donny this season, believe it or not (in my defence, you'd think 'The Arsenal of the Championship' would signpost the ground a little better...) so going wrong in Preston was never truly in doubt. But when a sat-nav says "You are 3 minutes from the ground" it invariably means "You're fookin' miles off, walk at your own peril". Of course, in hindsight I shouldn't have listened, but it meant me and my old man walking for what seemed like a lifetime. And the ground is a tease too. It appears behind every house, down every street, and yet you never seem to arrive at it. Strange stuff, but at least the nice, long walk made the pre-match beer that bit sweeter.

Actual footage of where I parked...

The ground (when we finally got there) is one of the nicer ones in this division. It looks modern yet retains it's traditional feel too. The enclosed sides add to the atmosphere, which tonight, certainly in the away end, was fantastic. The Reds fans were noisy, passionate and on top form all night. The 'Darren Ferguson Chant' was out in full force many times, and just as enjoyable as it was those months ago at London Road. Of course, it helps when the team give the fans something to sing about on the pitch, and they didn't let us down tonight.

The best team won tonight, no doubt about it. At times, the football was terrific to watch; we were patient when we needed to be, aggressive when the situation required it, and controlled the tempo for about 75 of the 90 minutes. Teixeira looked promising, and with match fitness under his belt, he could turn out to be a masterstroke signing by MR. Several players will seriously feel they'd done enough to warrant a MOTM award, but for me, Doyle wins it hands down. He was involved in everything we did. He broke up any Preston attacks, and created countless chances for us with his patient, calm range of passing. He thrived next to Colace today, and between them they were on top of almost everything. And this meant that Anderson had the freedom to play as he should; it was the Brazilians best game for us in a long time. In fact, it was the teams best performance for us in a while, if not the whole season . 4-1 was about right, although we could even have nicked another. Performances like that will only breed confidence, something which has been in desperately short supply recently.

Obviously, not everything was perfect; Steele looked shaky again on a couple of occasions, and the less said about Darren Moore's moment of madness, the better. But other than that, all players come out of this with a lot of credit. It was great to watch, and should settle a few nerves around the place in regards to our league position. Maybe people can start dreaming about moving up the table again, instead of back down into the brown stuff. And it was a fantastic sight looking at the league table and seeing us sitting proudly in the top half for the first time since the opening day.

The walk back to the car after the full time whistle didn't seem half as long and winding as it had before. I even managed to overhear a couple of Preston lads discussing how they "always lost to the shit teams"! If we were shit tonight, then I fear for them more than us, because in all honesty, we outclassed them all over the park. Still, I hope those two enjoyed their portion of sour grapes, and hopefully the more honest Preston fans will be able to admit that we were good value for the win. The sat-nav didn't let me down on the way home; in all honesty, even if it had, nothing would have crushed my good mood. Days like this one don't come along often (enough) for us, so I'll be cherishing this one for a while.

Watford next up at Oakwell then. They've had a confidence boosting win tonight against someone or other, and may well fancy having a pop at us on Saturday. But if we can perform like that, then I'm very confident we can get the points.

Thanks for reading.

Leicester Out-Foxed

2010-01-27T08:01:00.039Z

Last night was pretty much a perfect night, in footballing terms. What more can we ask? A cold, winter night under the floodlights, a good atmosphere at Oakwell with the crowd getting behind the players, and a hard fought, but well deserved, 3 points against a team who we don't usually score against, let alone beat. And with the news before the game that Palace had been deducted 10 points, the table is looking healthy once more for the Reds after a shaky spell. And of course, Leeds and Donny both losing always gives me a nice warm feeling too!

First things first though; last night I had an important purchase to make. Even more important than my Scunny away tickets. A life-changing purchase. The time had come to buy my new born son his first ever Barnsley shirt. It's been a battle trying to persuade his die-hard Wednesday mum to let me buy him one, and I'm ashamed to say that part of the deal was that he was also allowed a Wendy shirt too, but nonetheless, it was a proud moment, one which even the club shop not stocking the right size could ruin. It's only the first step on a long road towards tempting him away from the dark side and choosing the Reds, and the battle is still ongoing, but yesterday represents a victory for us. Needless to say, the lads had to keep their end of the bargain and provide this momentous day with the win it deserved, and they didn't disappoint.

The first half wasn't pretty, and that's putting it lightly. We never settled into our passing rhythm, and gave Leicester too much respect. Chances were few and far between for both sides. I hate to say it, but every time we play Leicester, I dislike them more and more. I wasn't impressed with their style of play last night; they resorted to a lot of long balls, and were pretty uninspiring. No wonder their fans spent so much of their time and energy taunting the home supporters rather than getting behind the team. They were very much set up looking to stifle the opposition and then catch them out, and credit to them, it nearly worked in the first half, although we eventually found them out and took control of the game.

I don't know what Robins is slipping in the half time cuppa's, but he should bottle it and sell it by the ounce, because it's unreal. The first half, we resorted to playing long and panicky clearances forward towards (apparent) 6"7 hold up man Iain Hume and, rather unsurprisingly, it was totally ineffective. Their centre backs were comfortable for the whole 45 minutes, and we never really threatened to break the deadlock. To be fair, they didn't do much either, although Danny N'Guessan is probably still wondering how he fluffed his lines with his header on 40 minutes. But the second half was a different Reds side, and everything just seemed to click into place. The football at times was a joy to watch, and the atmosphere in the Ponte end was great. Every time we went forward, it looked like we could score. Every corner Hume put in yesterday was exactly where a corner should be, and at the perfect height for someone to attack. Shotton will be wondering how he didn't grab a goal, as will Anderson and Hammill. But all that matters is that we did score, and it was decisive in the end. There were several candidates for MOM, but I thought Hume was a worthy winner of the award, and he will have given Robins plenty to think about.

A special mention again has to go to another referee who had absolutely no grasp on the game at all. It was never gonna be a flowing game of football with Leicester going long at every opportunity, but he played his part in this with a very fussy performance. In particular, some of the soft free kicks he awarded Leicester should have been bookings for diving, but his overall handling of the match was not up to scratch. The OTT celebrations every time he awarded us something made light of the situation, but he certainly joined the massive list of referees who've been shocking down at Oakwell this season.

So a good performance which was well overdue, and with the Reds heading to Reading at the weekend, the 3 points from this game were invaluable, keeping us within striking distance of the playoffs but, more importantly, keeping us away from the dogfight going on below us. Hopefully we can go on another run similar to the one at the back end of 2009 and make headway up this very tight division. We've had a few minor setbacks in the last couple of weeks, but hopefully we're past that now and ready to continue the climb.

Cheers for reading.

Raindrops keep falling on our heads...

2010-01-22T15:14:00.039Z

At about 1:00pm today (Friday) I had a sudden urge. A crazy, random desire to plan a last minute excursion to Plymouth. It came from nothing, but once it was in my head, that was it. I had it all mapped out; I found a suitable hotel to stop for the night, I'd syphoned some money to one side for petrol, alcohol etc. and I'd almost managed to persuade my dad, who was very, very sceptical, to agree to my spontaneous (and slightly hair brained) trip. Lucky for me, then, that my dad decided that if we were gonna do it, we'd meet up tonight and discuss the plan properly before booking anything or doing anything rash. I don't like that mindset; I prefer to get everything set up and ready for lift off, but I agreed. Well, I agreed in principle, and then carried on planning our itinerary for the two days in the South West (I get a bit carried away when it comes to away days). So you can only imagine how relieved I was that the game was called off before I'd so hastily put everything in place and spent half my weeks wage. If it'd been feasible, I'd probably have already been on my way, squealing with excitement. I love a good, old fashioned away day, especially the ones that happen out of the blue.

Don't get me wrong, I'm totally gutted that this fixture, yet again, hasn't survived a bit of rain. Of course, we were never gonna win; after the turn of events last time at Home Park, it was written in the stars that we were gonna lose the game. But that wasn't the point; I was worked up, buzzing, and ready for a good knees up. Unfortunately, it seems that this match is destined to be played on some shitty Tuesday night sometime, and I'm destined not to be there to see us attempt to right that injustice from earlier in the season.

Of course, it's another kick in the teeth for anyone who had gone that step further and made all their plans for the second time, and it's those die hard souls I feel for the most. I wasn't there for the first attempt at playing the Pilgrims, and I can't even begin to imagine how stressful and costly the whole day was for the brave few who made the first journey.

In Plymouth's defence, the images of the pitch on their official website looked terrible, and the words "bog" and "mush" cropped up way too many times in the accompanying article for comfort. That said, I can't help but think that the reason this game has gone already is that Plymouth are terrified of having to postpone the game again midway through it. Surely the FA could not ignore the state of the pitch if we'd suffered two postponements there during play? The club would find themselves in a bit of bother, you'd think. Even so, it can't rid me of that empty feeling of not having a game this weekend.

So here we are then, we move on to Leicester City at Oakwell in midweek and try, yet again, to put more Plymouth-related misery behind us. And when we finally play Plymouth Argyle away, we'll just have to remember that we owe them. Twice.

Thanks for reading.

JCR - A big decision by Robins... but the right one?

2010-01-20T13:18:00.032Z

We all knew it was gonna happen, it was inevitable; JCR has left Barnsley Football Club for pastures new. Our fellow Championship rivals Bristol City are the ones who have ultimately put the money up and taken a punt on a player who, on his day, is one of the most exciting talents in this division.

Obviously, his transfer is going to cause a lot of debate but, whilst he has been an integral part of the squad for the last couple of seasons, he hasn't been the same since Reading turned his head last January with talk of the Premiership and untold glory. Back then, we managed to tie him down with a new contract, but things have been far from rosy in the garden since then, and a loss of form, coupled with an eye injury picked up early in the current campaign, mean first team chances have been limited for the tricky Jamaican winger.

One thing which nobody can deny is the impact the little fella has had on Barnsley FC. He's popped up with some of the most crucial goals of the last couple of seasons for us. Who can forget that mazy run and finish which was the undoing of the pikeys last season? Or the moment he picked the ball up on the edge of the area, raced at the defence and fired his unstoppable shot past Lee Grant to inflict our famous double on the deedahs? Or even his (and our) last goal of the 08/09 campaign, which secured our Championship status for another year at Home Park? We've had some huge moments in the last couple of seasons, and Jamal has been involved in many of them.

So everyone, get yourselves on the official site, and have a gander at his time at Oakwell in pictures, the link is below:

http://www.barnsleyfc.co.uk/page/Gallery/0,,10309~1938089,00.html

There's some real memories in there, not all of them great. If you can't be arsed to sift through them all, allow me to put up the one which should, and probably will, be the defining image of his time at Oakwell.

I wish him all the best and thank him for his services to the club. Now all we need is MR to pump his transfer fee into bringing in the player who can help us keep pushing up the Championship table.

Thanks for reading.

Come on ref... HANDBALL!!

2010-01-17T22:24:00.000Z

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.