Reds end season on a high at Hawthorns

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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.