Football Blog: Tangerine Flavoured

Saturday, July 25, 2026

Cumbrian collapse - Barrow AFC vs the Mighty



The World Cup over, the season ahead. No better place to wash away the taste of corporate polish and celebrity glamour than Barrow.

If the UK's average town centre speaks of urban decline then Barrow is the king of the hill.


Walking around you can see what once was but has long since departed. Like anywhere, but here, more so. Looming warehouses threaten to march over the horizon and swallow everything, a 3 letter logo an ever present reminder of the main employer out here on the edge of everything. 



It's easy to sneer at Barrow - but I like the place. It might have smashed windows and boarded up shops but it's got grand red brick buildings, Walney Island is a strange and windswept sliver of magic. Piel Island has a fucking castle on it for fucks sake. You don't get a castle on an island in Reading do you? From industry to wilderness in barely one move. I'd rather Barrow than some none-place southern satellite town. My soul is attuned to smashed brick and Buddlea, to the wild unkempt nature that springs from the accident of demolition and decay - fuck planning, fuck mown grass - give me a riot of anarchic weeds and the majesty of random selection over a clump of bushes planted by some developer. 

As ever, I digress. The football.



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A couple of decent CJ crosses early on, Ennis drags one wide after being slipped in by Lyons and an ok ball in from the Finn that no one could get onto.

Barrow have a couple of chances from distance.  Lyons and their left winger, who looks like what you might get if you ordered a rubbish Zlatan figure from a Chinese import site, have some ridiculous handbags where Lyons throws himself to the floor as if they're half heartedly rehearsing a rubbish WWF fight. The referee is disinterested. For once I'm on the side of the man in whatever colour the ref was wearing today. 

Coulson, playing midfield is down in agony inside 20 minutes. Who'd have imagined such a thing? He's ok though. Mainly I've noticed that he's gone for more of a Midwest trucker mullet this season, which for me, is a step up from the soft wash perm of 2526. Please can we not play Hayden in midfield again? 

We have a slick move, but there's no finish. Perhaps scoring is beneath us. We're purists after all. 

Ashworth drops a back pass carelessly short basically at the exact moment I think "Ashworth is playing well." A slick move (of sorts) where we manage to pass it all the way back to our own goal for no reason. That's the the sort of thing purists like. 

A Karoy shot, taking it on the turn, driving a few strides, drawing a save. Coulson forcing a second save from the rebound. Seemingly we do want to score after all. How very uncultured of us. 

Nwankwo is caught out, but recovers well, they get the shot in anyway, BPF sticks out a leg and stops it in a rudimentary but effective manner. It's a moment with massive playground vibes. 

Lyons is beaten in the tackle, but then heads it out from under our bar, after the slickest Barrow move so far, stringing passes along the edge of the box from left to right and then a decent ball in.

We do a terrible corner routine, Coulson gets it short and is immediately tackled. One from Squires Gate. Give them all a bonus for the next level thinking. 

I'm not really concentrating when Barrow score. I think it's a suicide ball from BPF and someone (maybe Jordan Brown) is robbed, anyway, I've tuned back in in time to see the Bluebirds (playing today in black and white) waltzing right through and sliding the ball past the stranded keeper.

Probably the best remaining chance falls to CJ whose heavy touch makes his effort to control a diagonal into more of a neat back pass. The game drifts to half time.


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We've made a bit, but we've not looked hugely like actually scoring. I was prepared that we might be a bit short at the back (and we are) but we've not really shown any particularly defined patterns of play going forward. Karoy, has, as you'd expect, been tidy and energetic but we've not really put it together around him.

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It's a sluggish start before 3 quick fire chances, Niskannen gets in twice and pulls back, no one can reach the first, Taylor wastes the second by holding on too long, twisting to make the angle but only succeeding in getting tackled. CJ clipping in the third and Ennis turns on it and has it blocked over the bar.

Things briefly liven up a bit with subs. Bowler a genius pass (maybe genius is pushing things, but it's been a game devoid of silk and his little slip through is caressed, threaded, a moment of vision in a game of huffing straight lines) but the overlapping Lyons is unable to find anyone.

Bowler again, a mazy run and a toe poke creates a chance. Kylian misses a golden opportunity as he dithers, looking more like a centre back than a centre forward. Charles blasts the clearance back and then Brown slaps it wide.

Then Dion is limping and now he's sitting down. More changes and we're in the dreamland scenario of CJ up front with Kouassi.

I don't want to spoil the rest of the blog but you might be able to guess the outcome...

We make very little from this point. Upton has a good go in midfield, Jack Richardson gets wide and attacks quite well but it's fair to say Barrow end the game on top.

Their second goal is also difficult to see, watching through multiple stanchions from the British bake off tent of an away stand is like watching a glitchy video with bits of the narrative missing, but my impression of it is, that Barrow get down our right too easily and then a floating, drifting cross is completely missed by everyone and is either bundled home at the far post or drifts in - either way, it's that same goal we concede too often.

There's time for CJ to earn a rousing 'Ole' for a classic bit of air kicking mis-control as he darts down the touchline and runs the ball out of play in a way that only CJ has truly mastered... and then, we're done.

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Of course, it's only preseason and of course, minutes and legs and all of that. Had we turned up and smashed Barrow out of site then I'd be writing about it not meaning much - that said, it's not so much that Ashworth, Nwankwo and Lyons isn't a serious prospect as a back three that concerns me as much as the lack of creativity evident. Granted, no Morgan, Clarkson (or indeed Honeyman) but we didn't really have a convincing effort at getting it down and controlling the game. We clipped it long quite a lot and ceded possession fairly easily as a result.

Of course, it's just a runabout - but we couldn't really impose a game on Barrow, ultimately, it was them who imposed their game on us - yes, rugged, yes, physical, yes 'limited' - but exactly what we've struggled against in the real stuff for what seems like far too long.

We're definitely short. As much as I'd love Kouassi to be the physical game changing forward we've not had for ages, he looked far from it today. The back 3 isn't an option for the actual games, we're a wing back short and looked lacking in imagination in midfield.

This game doesn't matter at all - but there's clearly still work to do. Had we had a solid defence then we'd likely have had a foundation to build on - but we didn't and even with Horsfall and Casey (and big Mike) there's questions about mobility and fluidity. 

Time will tell and all of that. Actually, I think time will probably eat away at us all and everything we know and the universe will collapse in upon itself - but in the short term hopefully we get a few more in because we definitely need it. 

Onward.
 
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Monday, July 20, 2026

Football is shit - long live football



It’s over.

I find myself sighing in relief, the tournament had some joy to it for sure, but it was too long and the final, a four hour process of [insert the name of the official hydration partner here] water torture, football rendered as a light entertainment nightmare, a peyote vision of corporate America, all weird twisting bodies in lurid colours has tested my patience beyond breaking point.

Someone belts out the national anthem covering four octaves in one phrase because this is the land of possibility and if it’s possibly to modulate your voice and have two key changes in quick succession, then fuck! Yeah! Freedom! To sing like you’ve never heard the phrase ‘less is more’ is your motherfuckin' birthright- it’s why they have guns, to protect that sort of thing. 

The crowd is barely noticeable, reduced to mere blurry pixels, squeezed between boards and screens shilling FIFA sanctioned brands. Even ‘those incredible Argentine fans’ (© all the broadcasters all the time) are but a distant hum, the passion dulled by variously, the inflated ticket prices changing the make-up of the fans and the thumping, insistent sound of the BIG EVENT.

It’s merely not a game, it’s a celebrity endorsed moment. A once in a lifetime billion pound choreography. A greying popstar in an alarming jumpsuit warbles an inane song that I can’t believe anyone could have written with a straight face. Something about kicking the ball to be who we are for love and unity. It’s worse than AI. Chat GPT would probably shut itself down if it had come up with that. 

Gianni beams. Today, I feel… like the centre of attention. The Donald tucked safely behind bulletproof glass glowers as he casts an Emperor's gaze across it all. Tom Cruise from off of Tom Cruise films lectures us all in the manner of a patronisingly positive primary school head giving a motivational speech about sports day being more than just the egg and spoon race. His face is locked in a kind of smirk that drips with self satisfaction.

That’s not even a bit of it. It goes on and on and on. It leaks into half time and infects it, like a spilt sugary drink that has dried in the sun, everything sticky, tacky, horrible. Stars, like ants, crowded round, milling, drawn by the scent, drunk on sucrose. Manicure, plastic surgery, far too much effort to ever be even remotely cool. This is shit.

The game. Football. So brilliantly un-mouldable. A glorious revenge on the glittering spectacle. It is fucking awful. Spain aren’t bad, knocking it about like any middle ranking club side can do these days but Argentina are evil, spoilers, barbarians. Nothing happens. The ref daren’t act because there’s too much at stake. Argentina can’t get the ball anywhere near Messi but Spain daren’t really let rip in case they do. It’s a cautious team versus a side so brutally conservative as to make Tony Pulis look positively carefree and Cruyfiann.

As it goes on, despite everything, I find myself fascinated by the sheer bloody-mindedness of the Argentines. Rooney tells everyone that the half time show is “crap” and a nation rejoices in Wazza’s frankness. Still nothing seems to happen. The pundits try to tell us the Argentine keeper is having an astonishing game but mainly he’s saved things straight at him. Spain keep patiently going sideways and backwards trying to create the perfect goal and not managing it.

Then finally, Argentinian brutality gets a well overdue punishment. Ironically, the foul that draws the red is clumsy, yes, mistimed, definitely but for once, not premeditatedly cynical. Spain score a goal which gets ruled out for no explicable reason and briefly, the world of Whatsapp chats and social media fizzes with conspiracy but then, very shortly afterwards, the inevitable Spain pressure tells. By then I’m almost (but not quite) hoping that Argentina win having had no shots on or off target, just because there’s something perversely interesting about that. The Spain goal kills that anti-hero narrative and that’s probably for the best.

As multiple times before in this tournament, going behind stings Argentina into action. They’re actually quite good when they play football and it’s a mystery as to why they didn’t try this earlier. Messi has a couple of sublime touches - (you might have heard of him, he’s quite good,) a cross is almost turned in. Thankfully it isn’t and we’re spared the dubious drama of penalties and the team that clearly deserves to win the match wins the match.

Trump wanders about in shot whilst the World Cup is lifted because of course he does. The TV cuts to various people who I have to suppose other people know who they are, many of whom are inexplicably celebrating despite not being Spanish as if just being near this moment of incredible magic is enough to send them into raptures. Raised as I was on the fag end of a decade of empty terraces and carcoated men bitterly finishing a rollie and declaring ‘Bloody awful, I’ve had enough, I’m not coming next week’ before marching out (to come again next week), the idea of neutrals clapping and dancing with a strangely pagan bliss after a game that bad is a bit of a culture clash.

It wasn’t a game where conventional wisdom would suggest football was the winner - and yet, in a strange way, football trounced pomp and circumstance. The universal and inescapable truth of football is, it’s often shite. The World Cup final was a game that ended up resembling not so much a crowning moment of a festival of elite sport but a bad tempered match that could really, aside from a few flicks and twists here and there, have been taking place in the Scottish third division or the English non-leagues.

Whilst it is a shame for the relatively few genuine fans who’d spent their life savings to be there, I can’t help smile to myself that all the corporate grifters, the politicians and a-list, influencing types, all of the moneyed sorts who bagged a 10,000 dollar ticket with their latest bonus payment in their bright and new replica soccer jerseys learned pretty much what it feels like to watch us play Crawley Town on Tuesday night. No money, no exclusive ticket, no amount of mega build up can guarantee a good game. You can imagine a tournament with infinite sponsors, a stadium made of solid gold, a prize fund so big you run out zeros when you try to type it out and yet the game on the local field between two pub teams might actually be a better watch.

That’s football.

It might have been a bit warmer and the PA a bit better - but frankly, I prefer my halftimes to have the sound of Tony Parr interviewing someone you can't hear and the unbeatable visual spectacle of our subs half heatedly knocking the ball between themselves whilst two blokes with forks prod the pitch in a knowing manner.

I think FIFA missed out by not having any adverts for Terry's Carpets. 

Onward

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Sunday, May 31, 2026

Onwards, Upwards... Tangerine 🍊




Readers with decent memories may wish to point out that me writing an article dissecting the needs and actions required of the club over the summer is a self indulgent pile of shite that no one should take any notice of at all - because a) I'm not actually qualified in any way to do so and b) last season, I wrote a lengthy piece which boiled down to its core read "Dear Uncle Si, please give all your money to that nice Mr Bruce to spend because literally nothing can go wrong" 

Perhaps I should bin off the idea at the start and say something like 'what will be will be' or 'time will tell' - but that would be quite dull. It would make the blog easier to write (and probably read) but you don't get to hit the heights of 3rd best Blackpool FC related blog on the internet by saying such things so, in this era of idiots spouting shit for clicks, I'm going to clatter out my thoughts on what has been and what may be and hope that this season turns out better than the last. 

Last season: 

As mentioned above we spent all the money on all the players. Unfortunately most of the players came with bits hanging off them or weren't very good. We also forgot the bit of the season where you do such things as 'get fit' and 'sort out the tactics' so things didn't go very well. I don't wish to dwell on the start of the year but I can honestly say, the period up to late October was one of the most dispiriting, lacklustre periods I've ever experienced as a Blackpool fan. For whatever reason, Bruceball had gone from being quite an enjoyable, if slightly rough and ready thing, to every game being like that scene in one of the Lord of the Rings films where they walk through the bog of misery and despair* - I still am yet to figure out what we were actually trying to do, beyond 'sitting tight at the back lads and hope that one of the attackers scores' 

*I don't really like Lord of the Rings, so I'm not sure if that's what it's actually called but basically, the main blokes in the film go through a really miserable, dreary landscape for ages and it makes them depressed. It's quite an effective scene, so much so that I actually turned off the film at that point and didn't watch anymore. This was about 25 years ago, so I can't remember the finer details - I wish it was as easy as that with Blackpool FC. 

Evatt came in. He wasn't really my choice - I wanted a clean break with history and some kind of sexy foreign coach with mad ideas or a 32 year old hipster who would either be the best thing since Joe Smith or fired inside 6 weeks. Instead, we got Macho Critch replete with new hair and teeth. (Rumours that he got 10 free goes on Big Gaz's old sunbed as part of the signing can neither be confirmed or denied.) It only took some strangely lurid and weirdly slightly camp photos on his official reveal and a short interview to persuade me that it was worth giving Evo the time of day - this was clearly a man with a plan who wanted to be here and in a world of merry-go-round rent-a-manager that's worth backing. 

'Stephen, stop frowning, we look marvellous' 

We definitely picked up under Evo initially - we played some football that suggested some coaching sessions had taken place. That sounds like the kind of mild sarcasm that I write with normally to disguise a lack of any real insight, but it's literally the truth - we looked for the first time as if we'd been instructed as to what to do, how to move in relation to each other and essentially, vaguely resembled a professional football club in that it looked like we met up and did stuff midweek. A good run, a miraculously good Christmas, we giddily began to tell ourselves 'this is Blackpool, we come from the pack, we win promotion, this is what we do' and then everything fell apart against Port Vale and kept falling apart until sometime around late spring. James Husband's perfectly good tackle and the worst referee ever (I've not sworn in the rest of the blog, but Ed Duckworth is a cunt) were the footballing equivalent of the control rods being removed in the Chernobyl power plant, sparking an unstoppable chain reaction of horrendous events that went on for ages 

Whereas under Bruce, we looked under instructed, if anything, when we were in the trough under Evo we seemed the opposite - it's a curious thing how 'go and play lads' and 'lads, don't forget to read the 90 page dossier, remember the PDF on the quarter space tactics and also the positional line graph' can have similar results. An empty head and an over full head essentially amount to the same thing - poor performances and bad results. 

Things looked really bad as grim defeat after grim defeat stacked up. Then Big Si turned up. Now, it's obviously not the case that he picked the team, took the coaching sessions or gave the team talks - but it's undeniable that his call to arms had an impact. As the season progressed, the fan base got restless, Julian Winter gave an interview where he conceded that communication had been lacking but bristled at the suggestion the club was 'drifting' but, blown by the winds of League One towards the bleak, rocky coastline of League Two I'm not sure how we could really feel otherwise.

Sadler's intervention mattered in two key ways - firstly the decisive and well priced ticket offer helped give a sense of occasion to the remaining fixtures. His speaking out also showed us, that his interest remained and that he too, had been disappointed by the season. I think that gave something to us a fanbase that had been lacking - a sense that someone senior at the club might be willing to grasp hold of the under-performing mess and give it a good shake. Being told 'we're getting new floodlights' wasn't quite as galvanising and it's much easier to get behind something where it feels as if it's run with with some passion and care than on autopilot... 

I still don't know what being 'in receiving mode' actually means

Secondly - and perhaps decisively, he brought in Steve Thompson. At the time, I was again, slightly suspicious of the simple logic of 'if they're not dancing, play the greatest hits compilation' but equally, felt it was worth a shot - and it turned out to be a masterstroke. I don't know what precise part Thommo played, but it felt as if suddenly, we became a bit more flexible, a bit more pragmatic - the simplest way I can put it is, we seemed to start using players as what they actually are, instead of what we'd like them to become - Results are of course, the ultimate builders of confidence and as we picked up one or two, we played better and 3 became 4 and so on, until safety was ultimately comfortably attained. Whether Thommo was a sounding board for Evatt, whether he was a bridge to the players, whether he put his own ideas in or whatever else, he had a clear impact. Fans responded to greater fight and by the end of the season, we saw some reasonable football and some committed showings and the atmosphere had returned to what had, for most of the season, been a moribund and uncharacteristically flat Bloomfield Road. 

Where now? 

What we learn from last year is unclear. We learned that buying a load of players who are mostly around 30ish and giving them to an aging celebrity manager doesn't work. We learned, I think, that we still have no real sense of a 'through-line' between appointments - Evatt, I think did a decent job overall, he inherited a squad of players which really weren't designed to play the kind of technical, possession football he wants to play and whilst, he did get a bit stuck in the mid season mud trying to get them to do what he wanted, he also ended up finding a way to make it (sort of) work. From where we were to where we finished, it's impossible not to say 'job done' in regards to his work. 

The problem is, whilst Evatt ultimately should be applauded for turning round as an initially unfit, unmotivated, un-bonded and unsuccessful side as I've seen in tangerine, next season provides a different challenge. If you ask yourself two questions - 1) Who played well consistently? and 2) When did we play really well last season? then you're left with more or less the same answer - a few of them and a few times. We're left with quite a bit of work to do to put out a team that would convincingly challenge at the top of the league, not least because we've still got most of a squad that demonstrably struggled to convince playing 442 (despite having all the wingers) and also didn't look that special playing 532 either. 


The squad: 

This is the bit where I try to look at it objectively and work out what our priorities might be. I'm not making any assumptions about formation, not least because I think we're better when we show flexibility. I think there's a place for a 532, especially away from home against better sides, but there's also a place for a back 4, especially if you want to get at teams and utilise some of the attacking talent we may not have got the best of last year. 

Keepers: 

We've resigned Bailey Peacock Farrell - I'm a bit unsure about this. He's a great keeper and a terrible keeper at the same time. The hope has to be that with regular football, in the same team, over a period of time, he settles into being the former and not the latter. He's never really had that in his peripatetic career to date, so maybe it works. I have no qualms at all about his technical ability, he's as good a keeper in terms of his physical ability as anyone in the league - his concentration and sometime positioning is the issue and perhaps the communication that comes from being part of a unit with experience of playing together will address that. 

Franco is probably fine as back up - he looked calamitous initially, but had some good displays latterly - I don't really see a player who looks like an absolute top keeper, but equally, I don't see him as fatally flawed either as sometimes the reserve keeper obviously is, though he wisely cut out trying to fanny about at the back and kicked long in his better showings and I wonder if Evatt would possibly look to swap him out and bring in a keeper more confident in the short game if he wants to have a choice as opposed to a defined number one and a back up. 

Full backs/Wing backs: 

This is an area of urgent need. Zac Ashworth is fine, he's an able squad player, he's committed and can play a couple of roles. For me, he's one of the few this year who I rate more at the end of the season than I did at the start. 

Hayden Coulson hasn't really pushed on to be the player I'd hoped he'd be. He's likably energetic and can get forward, but he's not really got devastating skill or a demon cross and he's really lightweight. I don't particularly trust him at left back and I don't get overly excited about him as a left wing back. Coulson also is prone to injuries - it's a harsh way to judge a player, but like say, Shayne Lavery, his worth to us seems less than it could be as he seems unable to go more than 4 or 5 games without picking up a knock. 

Andy Lyons has similarly failed to be the player he looked he could be - In his case, personal and physical challenges have been genuinely massive and I think everyone would want Lyons to succeed - but as much as I hope he does, in my heart of hearts, I'd be very surprised if we started the season with him at right wing back - I think he probably needs a year of football somewhere to re find his mojo, as opposed to another season of stop/start gap filling and never really getting back to any kind of rhythm. 

That leaves us with CJ and astonishingly, CJ would come quite high on a list of players in answer to the question 'who played well last year' - that said, I wouldn't in a million years, build my team around the idea of CJ at wing back. For me, CJ's greatest strength at this point in his career is his utility. I enjoyed Evatt's impassioned explanation of CJ's hitherto uncredited football intelligence and ability to execute instructions in different positions - to me, that screams of a utility player - someone who can come off the bench and play 4 or 5 different roles, depending on the game situation (and equally, of course, fill gaps in starting line ups) - but we've done the 'going for promotion with CJ at wing back' story before - and it wasn't a happy one... 

Raul Walters was a good loan addition - his ability to play RCB, RB or RWB would fit nicely with the idea of flexibility and he wouldn't be a bad signing at all - he's also the right kind of age, a player with room to grow and seemingly a good level of fitness. James Husband leaves a big hole on the left - his ability to drive us out, his aptitude as an actual old style left back and ability to step in to LCB and cover the LWB effectively are all misses - but we probably do need a more dynamic, mobile player moving forward. 


Centre backs: 

If we play a back 3 we're definitely short. I really like Fraser Horsfall but a trio of Horsfall, Ihiekwe and Casey only needs a striker with even the slightest bit of guile and pace to run rings round them. It also is a horrible prospect in terms of fluid football, carrying the ball out of defence, creating overloads and so on. It's just not a viable back 3 in a sexy footballing team. It also possesses no left footers so is fatally imbalanced - something that matters both in facing up skilful forwards running at you (a good back three needs to cover advanced wing backs, so in essence, the wider centre backs need to be auxiliary fullbacks) and driving the ball forward. 

As a two, I think Horsfall and Casey isn't a bad pair - Casey is a much, much better player in a back four or at the centre of a five - I don't see him as a really top LCB or RCB though. In a five, Horsfall has the attributes to anchor the defence, Casey is a very able deputy - but there's only really Zac Ashworth and at a real push, Andy Lyons, I'd see as candidates to be the more mobile players either side that you need to make a back 3 or 5 something that is part of an attacking team as opposed to a defensive one - and I don't think Ashworth is quite ready to be a first pick every single week player and I don't think Lyons has shown enough form since injury to be that player either. 

Ihiekwe is a problem - he's not without heart and clearly played through injury and probably earned a worse reputation than he deserves doing so - but he's also really more at home in that central role than anywhere else and we've already got the Horse and Casey who are stronger there and he's probably the least equipped to play the wider role of anyone. He's also on a long contract so he's not easy to move on but in an ideal world, he's the player who would give way to allow space for a quality LCB which is the most sorely needed position 

Width (wingers or wide forwards)

Josh Bowler is the best footballer in the division. He just is. His touch is sublime, his ability to beat people at will remains. He's a better passer than he was when he left. He can shoot with almost no back lift and he absolutely terrifies oppositions, particular those teams who choose to sit in and therefore cede space for him to run into. He'll pull people out of shape and make space for others. Why then, does he seem almost as big an ill fit as Big Mike? He played so few times in his natural position (and the one time later in the season he did, he was absolutely brilliant) that it's hard to make a judgement. Is he capable of playing as a 10? I'd say, yes, but not if he's actually an 8 - which is what happens when you play a '10' but also play two strikers (so, by definition, you've already got one of them doing what a '10' would do) and have a defence (i.e. Ihiekwe, Horsfall, Casey) that isn't really able to regularly step up into midfield and free that attacking midfielder to make the forward, space finding runs. Bowler, for me, is the single biggest argument for playing a 433 and getting at teams - he's still superb in a wide position and, in the latter part of the season, he showed he was able to play with effort and tactical discipline. The temptation will come to believe that maybe he can be an 8 or a RWB - but he's a maverick and at this level, he's a ridiculous one to have on a 3 year deal and we should make use of what he is, not what would be most convenient for him to be. 

Tom Bloxham is similar - he's also best in that wide forward role. He's a gifted player and though he continues to frustrate me because he looks like he could smash people like Big Gaz but heads like he's the size of Martin Bullock, he absolutely ploughed a furrow last season and I hope this year, we see him rewarded for that effort by getting a bit more opportunity off the left or right of an attacking three as I think he looks more at home there than anywhere else. 

Surprisingly, as we collected wingers like they were going out of fashion at the start of the year, we don't have anyone else other than CJ. CJ's best position is definitely also in a front 3 - as I've already said, I'm not putting him down as a nailed on starter in any role - so, short of Niall Ennis (more on him in a moment) looking like the player of 18 months ago again, there's a space as an attacking left sided player in the squad. 


Central Midfielders: 


The dream is to sign Karoy Anderson. Of everyone who played for us last year, I think Karoy became my favourite. For the first time since Kenny Dougall inconveniently hopped for a life of Instagram bliss in Thailand, we possessed a real all round midfielder, someone who never tired, could do everything to a level, was equally able to defend and attack and could adapt to what was happening instead of trying to bend the the game to his style. He wasn't perfect, but at 21, he's got space to really grow as a player and in the short time he was with us, seemed to become less chaotic and more assured with games. Whether it's realistic, I don't know, but if we can't sign the actual Karoy, we need someone like him. He's never the star, but he's never half hearted. We need an engine room because far too often in the last few years, we've been overrun in midfield. 

We already possess Albie Morgan and it mystifies me that there's a section of fans who don't seem to rate Albie. If we get a consistently fit Morgan this season, that will be a huge boost. He's not quite as 'all round' as Karoy or Kenny - but he's tenacious, he runs very hard and his long range passing is something that no one else really has - he's got a degree of creativity that compensates for his slightness - and he's largely had to partner less dynamic players and therefore I wonder if there's a little bit more to come from Albie if someone like Anderson who would be equally willing to do the kind of midfield leg work that Albie has been stuck with alongside players like Evans and Norburn who seemed to largely point at where Albie needed to go in order to get the ball for them (to launch out of play) 

George Honeyman is a curious player. It's impossible not to warm to his work rate. He's obviously an able footballer. I'm just struggling to look back at the season and see many games where Honeyman felt like 'the difference' in either an attacking sense or as I felt Anderson was latterly (in breaking up play and carrying the ball) - it basically feels like Honeyman *should* be an real attribute but I'm not sure he definitively is. I read somewhere (apologies to whoever said it that I've nicked it) that he feels like 'the new Jay Spearing' and that struck a chord. Spearing too had undeniable qualities - I just never quite *got* him - I'm not quite sure what Honeyman actually is - he seems to be able to do a decent job at 6, 8 or 10 but never particularly excel at either - having come from the level he was at, perhaps I'm expecting miracles because of a perceived reputation, perhaps he needs the right partners - I'm not sure...

Jordan Brown divides opinion, but in my mind, was one of the best players in the run in. As much as he had some really poor games leading up to that, he was consistently ugly and awkward in midfield when we picked up form and I think found in those last 10 or so games we saw a good example of the idea of players being what they are and not what we'd like them to be. He's not going to run the game at 6 and spray backspin passes to the corners - but he will sweep and clean up and play simple but solid passes to start an attack - I think he's got a place in the mix and I'm more clear about his impact than I am Honeyman's - which is strange in a way given their relative abilities, but I can only say what I see... 

Leighton Clarkson has gorgeous feet, his ability to change the direction of play with a shimmy or a drag back in a crowded midfield is special. He's got vision too and for me, would definitely be ahead of Bowler if we're looking for that central attacking midfield role - Clarkson looks like he understands the middle role better - you've got split seconds to make the move - wide, Bowler's game is pause, feint, pause again, explode, which is difficult to do in the centre, Bowler is all about slowing the game down at times but Clarkson looks like he's already in the move when he receives the ball because you have to be in that role - he should be a real asset because he's got real quality and that quality seems to be aligned to effort. 

Ryan Finnegan remains at the club - I've never been totally convinced by him. He's dynamic and physical, but he's prone to a clumsy or careless touch. He pleases when he comes on as he gets stuck in, but he also gives the ball away a bit too often. In a different team, he'd probably shine (and clearly did at Walsall who played a very rugged and direct style) but if Evoball is to be in practice what it appears to be in theory, I'm not sure about his place in it. 


Strikers: 


If I was the manager, then without question Dale Taylor would be my first pick up front - it wouldn't matter whether I was playing 2,3 or 1 forwards, his name would go on the team sheet. Imagine Jerry Yates, but drinking isotonic sports drinks at a golf club bar rather than continental lagers in town. He's very good, he's a grafter, presses superbly, is technically  and positionally sharp and has an eye for goal. What's not to like (apart from the injuries, which we need to collectively pray to whoever or whatever we believe can influence the future, that he's free from next year) 

The above seems a bit harsh on Ash Fletcher - there's no question Fletch had a good season and no question he's a quality player - it's just that I'm not totally sure that Fletch quite fits into my vision of the perfect team - We've covered how we need to get the best out of some of the forwards by playing them wide and I'm not sure Fletch (whose real strength is his ability to drop off the front line into holes) is going to be great in the middle of a three. I've also eulogised Clarkson and the same problem I identified with Bowler at 10 applies to him - i.e. when you play two up front, you've already got a 10 - something that is even more true when Fletcher's best quality is that he can step off into that exact role. If he stays, he's clearly a good player and it would be remiss of me to not be really grateful for the fact that, without his goals, we'd have been in Division Two - but if he doesn't stay, then he might just create the space for attributes we don't have and possibly a shift in how we set up. Maybe!!

Niall Ennis is yet another difficult case - what became abundantly clear was that the Ennis who came back from an early season injury was far less mobile than the one we saw on loan and at the outset of his permanent spell. The exact nature of the injury is unclear, but Ennis looked like he needed something sorting out and a long spell of fitness work - my theory (and it's mere speculation) is that his physical shape was related to an inability to train - but that we needed him to be available, so that whatever rehabilitation or intervention was required couldn't happen. A fit Ennis would be a huge asset and like Morgan, almost like a new signing. 

Tom Bloxham, I've covered, he's able to do a job up front and deserves respect for properly sticking at the role and finding some performances and indeed, gaining some stamina, but I wouldn't put him there out of choice because I think his real strength is elsewhere. 

It won't surprise anyone that I think what we lack is a physical presence. At the lowest of ebbs last year, I half jokingly, half seriously proposed sticking the Horse up front and picking up the pieces that bounce off him. As the Horse can't be at both ends and as ultimately, in League One you sometimes need to resort to such things, I feel the real gap up front is in this type of player. Taylor can play with back to goal, Ennis isn't bad for a little lad, Fletcher isn't awful in the air but none of them are the kind of dominant physical threat who will change a game and allow us to hit direct balls on the occasions when football isn't the answer. 


The overall: 


There's without doubt quality in the squad and I think there's a few areas where we should have some healthy competition - there's gaps too and those gaps exist regardless of formation. There's players we could hope to get more out of and a few players it seems might not really fit. It's not going to be a summer of total change - and perhaps, given that last summer was, that's not a bad thing - but there really does need to be targeted recruitment of quality in full back roles, in some mobility for central defenders, especially if we're going to pick 3, a left sided attacker if we're going to play 3 up front (and we should do that sometimes,) someone to do what Karoy did (or in an ideal world, Karoy) and of course, if Fletch isn't staying, a nasty, physical striker for hold up play and flick ons... 

Off the pitch, we've seen changes that needed to happen. I've no real way of knowing how good Winter was at the minutiae of his job - but clearly, barely speaking for three years whilst the club performed worse year on year and (publicly at least) no real discernible sense of enthusiasm or great feeling of ownership of the backsliding drift left it difficult to defend him. It's also difficult to know whether David Downes is the right man to step into his shoes, especially given we've had a relatively poor time in the transfer market and 'Football Operations' haven't been a resounding success but like other key appointments (Nick Horne, Harry Lyons) Downes has a link with the town and the club and ultimately, Winter was the senior role so Downes may work differently without him - we'll see! 

The one question that remains in that respect is the role of Steve Thompson. Again, I don't pretend to be a journalist, I don't know if Thommo wants a full time role, I don't know what the finances involved in that would be, I don't know how Evo feels about it (beyond him seeming publicly positive about it when asked) but it does seem logical that we should try to keep him on as he clearly had a positive impact. 

We're going into the new season with more people in footballing and non-footballing roles who clearly care about the club than we've had of late -, in fact, we've got a manager who sometimes seems as if he cares a bit too much... The  owner has to some extent at least, reengaged and some of the business side appointments have had universal approval from people I've spoken too who are closer than I to their roles.

As ever, what how the season feels will be largely dictated by what happens on the pitch - but it does feel as if some of the concerns about a club run by numbers and by distant individuals applying generic strategies might have been understood and addressed. I can't even begin to understand what's going on in a Hong Kong legal case, I won't even pretend to understand what a hedge fund even is, let alone what the finer points of legal discourse about a topic I don't understand in a country I don't live in even means - but provided we get through that and recruit in a much more effective and targeted way, then we've got a chance next year of a much better season. It's impossible to believe that Evatt's preseason will be a lacklustre as Bruce's, there's some continuity within the squad, a core of some talented players who've had some time to gel with each other and understand their roles in relation to Evatt's ideas - add the right players to those and we might start to look like we're designed for something, rather than a random collection of people. 

As ever, optimism is the only option, belief is the only way, tangerine is the one true colour and the Pool are, as always, going up. 

Onwards. 


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Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Cheers Hubby!


Time doesn't stand still does it? One minute you've signed a lad on loan from Norwich, Simon Grayson is your manager, you're trying to work out what this 'Simon Sadler' character is all about and the next, everything and nothing has changed, except your waving off James Husband from Blackpool North station, flapping your handkerchief, bravely trying to keep your emotions in check, but as the train pulls away and you catch sight of one last cheeky grin from the formally top-knotted football god (the Blackpool Baresi), you have to wipe away a bit of grit from your eye. 

Let me be clear from the outset - fuck the doubters, I properly adored James Husband. From pretty much the moment he turned up as a short cropped youthful physical wingback type to the moment he left as a senior player who you could almost literally hear creaking as he played, I appreciated what he brought to us. 

He came to fill a gap on the left and in Simon Grayson's wonky one lopsided set up, seemed to run the entire flank, because he had the legs to do that and no one else we tried did. Under Critchley, he was in and out, a bit part at times, a solid left back, initially a liability as a centre back but eventually a play off hero in that role. Maybe his best position was where he ended up playing in the last few months, stepping out of the left side of defence, prompting things, maybe it was left back where, in our decent Championship season, he put up some actually sensational numbers for a player who many considered a bit above his level. 

It's hard to write a 'best bits' montage of a player who will probably be remembered as 'a good servant' as opposed to yer magic men who went on to greater things - but no Jerry Yates, no Wes Hoolahan, no Charlie Adam, no Josh Bowler could ever have made the tackle that I've never seen bettered in the flesh, robbing Dominic Solanki of a hat trick goal that would have put us 3-0 down away at Bournemouth in a game we eventually not only salvaged a draw but could have won. He just didn't give up, from what seemed like miles away, he threw himself full length, somehow nipping the ball off the lad's toes in what seemed an impossible feat of athleticism and split second timing and that moment inspired a change in the entire game. 

Under Critchley 2.0 (safety enhanced edition), away at Oxford in a drab, drab, drab performance, Pool frustrate. Sideways and backwards, everywhere we go and Super Jimbo is the only one driving us forward, running out of defence, only to find the rest of the team recycling the ball and eventually it coming back to him to do it again. He sticks at it. He doesn't give up. He never gives up. The minutes tick away and there, surging forward, his lurching gait, running, as always in the latter part of his Pool career, as if he's carrying three different injuries, but leaping like a salmon at the back post, nodding it across and there is the fucking goal! He doesn't score it because Jimmy almost never takes centre stage, he just does his job and someone else gets the plaudits, the adoration, the moment of running away arms aloft. 

We're playing PNE - I can't remember if it's the Appleton 4-2 or the Critchley 2-0 but anyway, we've scored and the world is going mental and everyone is upside down in the stands and the world is vibrating to the particular light wave of tangerine - no one is calm. Except for Jimmy, who just saunters calmly past the Preston fans and gives them a little 'shush' with the most impish grin you could imagine. 

Away at Huddersfield this year - Jimmy is back in the side and he just runs the game, we've got a makeshift defence but he's taking the ball, he's pointing he's tidying up, he's calming things down, he's speeding things up when they need it. He's falling over at just the right time shielding the ball - he knows exactly what to do - the little nudge, the little lean in, the nipping at the forward and then the confrontation and the butter wouldn't melt in my mouth look as he walks away, as if aghast that anyone would get so wound up by a football match. 

Jimmy Husband, bastard, sneaky purveyor of shithousery. The kind of player you hate when they're not yours. 

It's a beautiful thing when they are though. 

A man who lost a bet to Gary Madine and played a game with cornrows. A man with an evident dry wit and well spoken football intelligence. A player who, by all accounts was generous with his time for others and looked after younger players and helped with and encouraged their development. A man with a singular dress sense. A man who played a starring role in the single greatest piece of football media ever created by anyone ever and whose 'looking in a box' face was a thing of untrammeled joy and wonder. Husband gave the sense that he'd be good to have a chat with over a pint - a vibe that isn't always common amongst modern footballers. 

His tired looking heavy legged overlaps could often show a more fleet footed winger how to put cross in when you get the chance. His vision at the back was deeply underrated. Jimmy can put his foot through it for sure, but he can also pass a football. He was never the biggest or strongest defender, but the amount of times he won a ball in the air, stretching every sinew, head tilted back, falling away and just getting the top of his head to it to send it out of the path of an incoming forward, I couldn't say - it was many. Watching him shadow and then snap into a player coming at him was a joy, he was very, very good at not getting run past by a man with the ball. 

I'd love to spend a few hours trawling data, trying to prove that left wingers played better when Jimmy played left back. I haven't got a few hours to spend, but it felt that way to me. A natural talker on the pitch, someone like CJ always seemed a better player with Husband prompting him.  Even early in his Pool days, when he moved inside, the left wing back seemed to play well. A future in coaching surely awaits. The man can read a football match. 

Yeah, he fucked up sometimes, but I'm not some dickhead on Twitter supporting a team in another country and having a meltdown for likes if a player's passing stats drop below 99%. I'm an actual football fan who supports an actual football team and goes to actual games and what I know from being an actual real life person is that I fuck up sometimes and therefore, actual footballers in actual games will do that too because like me, they're people and people are flawed. 

Remember the time he got sent off under Critch and then when he came back from suspension got sent off for exactly the same thing about 5 minutes into his first game back? I've never literally done that, but I've definitely metaphorically done that because fuck me, life, is basically making the same mistakes over and over and trying to crack on with it and get through the shame and self doubt and frustration at your own limitations, stupidity and foolishness. I once ran down my car battery by leaving my lights on twice in the same week. It's basically the same thing isn't it? 

I mean, no, I've never literally chucked a full length aerial foot first spear tackle at someone for absolutely no explicable reason in a south east seaside town but metaphorically I have....

Ok, I'm not sure actually on that one...

I probably shouldn't focus on his red cards but it's impossible to think of a Jimmy Husband montage that doesn't include him trudging off the pitch, his head hung low, as tired and fed up looking as a put upon donkey making their way home from the beach. I mean, people (and that includes Ian 'emotional intelligence is my calling card' Evatt) piled into him for getting sent off this year, but really, he got sent off for a good tackle (in an absolute disgraceful decision at Port Vale that should see the referee struck off and the PGMOL disbanded, then sent to live in exile on an unpleasantly humid island with lots of biting flies and limited clean water) and whilst his second one wasn't ideal, he'd just ridden a potentially leg breaking tackle and had a bloke sat on him. I imagine if someone tried to break my leg, then sat on me I could lash out, you could lash out. Ian 'I describe myself as a weaver of DNA' Evatt certainly could lash out.

Maybe Ian 'leadership and development conference' Evatt was right to dress him down and lay down a marker and clearly, Evo knows defending and defenders and maybe, just maybe, Hubby has run his race in tangerine - but I'm glad Hubby got back in after that, I'm glad he played well for us again. I'm glad he played his part in keeping us up. I wouldn't have wanted him to go out on that note because he'd given too much and been too much for us for that to be his last act. He celebrated our survival with relish, like it meant something and that's all you can really ask of a player - to actually show a bit of soul and fight and he certainly did. 

I'll miss him a lot. He's been a constant and he's a character - but I also think, a quality footballer, a player who, like all of my favourite players made the best of his attributes and played a game that was distinctly his. Is he the best left back I've ever seen play football? Perhaps not quite. Is he probably my favourite left back? I think so. 

Super Jimbo, it's been an absolute pleasure. 

Go well. 

 You can follow MCLF on facebookTwitterBlueskyThreads and Instagram or use Follow.it to get posts sent to your email If you appreciate the blog and judge it worth 1p or more, then a donation to one of the causes below which help kids and families in Blackpool would be grand.

Writing about football is possibly a bit pointless in an era when there's the telly and youtube and videos all over the shop. It's not my living this and it's just something I do because I do so there's no problem with reading it and then getting on with your life - but if you do want to chuck some money at the cause of some random fella writing shit no one ever asked him too, then Patreon. is a thing.

Sunday, April 12, 2026

Taylor-made - the Mighty vs Peterborough Utd




Here we go again. I'm blinking back a hangover. The pain is gathered around my eyes and a plan to soften the edges with gentle walk and several recuperative pit stops on the way from North Station is foiled by the trains being busses that take twice as long and me thinking 'fuck that, I'll drive'

So I do. It's a gusty day that already has changed its mind several times. From blue, to grey, to black angry sideways rain -  to be honest, I don't care what the weather does as long as we win. It could rain frogs for weeks and I'd take that with pleasure if it meant 3 points.


Monday was a body blow. The relief of the Exeter victory wiped away, the anxiety of relegation back with a vengeance and the shortcomings of this season all too familiar. I'm not going to list them, I've said the same thing so, so many times. Today is a new day. Let's hope the attacking force that showed up in the first half against Exeter is present today. Maybe I'll pray for Bowler's hamstring.

We need this...


---

Bloxham scraps and battles and a corner is his reward. C'mon Pool. I'm watching Horsfall and Jimmy because who else is going to do anything at a corner? A glance back to Brown, then back to the danger men who split and run in different directions but what's the point because Brown has scuffed the corner, absolute pile of shite, disgraceful, you get fucking paid for this and you can't even beat the first man... but there is Dale Taylor, darting, on to it, facing goal and a lovely calm, simple as you like finish and I realise I've read that moment all wrong and I know nothing about football at all and that doesn't matter because we're 1-0 up, already! 

That's done us all the world of good. Before the game, the ground felt nervy - but now it's exploded and we're set piece kings of the world. 


I hope that we don't sit back now - and we don't sit back. Peterborough are distinctly unnerved by us and we look, well, I have to say it... good. I've felt that so few times this season - we've battled quite well of late and we've had a few spells in games - but we've rarely controlled a game like this - the press from the front is very good - Taylor is positively Jerry-esque as he leads the charge, Bloxham is liberated by having a partner who wants to do this and this lets him hunt wide and find space in general, Karoy is on fire, charging at anyone Peterborough player who dares to touch the ball and Brown very effective in tidying up behind him. Anything that gets through that and the defence snap into it and we're off again... 

We absolutely roast them alive for a while. Bloxham continues to win corners and get shots in. We're playing very high and Walters ends up basically on the right wing. A ball across the box, another ball across the box and a deflection and a great save by the Posh keeper, a scream for a penalty, a proper one, everyone in unison on and off the pitch. I swear I hear it slap the hand of the defender but the ref and the impassive linesman are deaf to the imploring voices and the outstretched arms. 

It goes on, we are going to score again, we must score again, it's a sheer weight of numbers thing, it's like watching a training exercise, it's as if Peterborough are drilled not to go over the halfway line and just let us come again and again, the Horse gets his head to some corners, one and two are headed back but nothing comes of them but three is down, powerful and just past the far post. CJ nutmegs his man and races away... Ole! Honeyman goes for it from the edge of the box and his low shot seems to be tipped wide, but the ref gives a goal kick. 

We need another goal. We deserve another goal. 

What happens next is so painfully obvious to any of us... I'm watching us knock it about at the back. We're so in control of this game it's like we're just having a little breather and my attention wanders. A shocked gasp runs through the crowd, I refocus on the pitch. Peterborough now have the ball and they're charging at the heart of our box and they're letting fly with an absolute thunderbolt, it's really quite a finish, one of those that seems to sense the hand of the keeper and swerve away from it... I have to ask what happened - how we went from being comfortable in possession to picking the ball out of the net in the moment I looked away - CJ is the answer. Not so ole! 

We need to get back on this and after a lull, we do. The Horse meets another in the box, Husband hits a far post effort on the turn, a goal for the ages if it comes off, but he doesn't catch it cleanly and the keeper falls gratefully on it. 

Then another twist in the tale as Honeyman gets caught on the ball and goes down, Posh go up the middle and CJ redeems himself with a good bit of defensive work but Honeyman is done for. Off he limps and on comes Clarkson. It's obviously a blow to lose your captain and grim for him personally, but I do wonder if, given we've got so much control of the midfield, Clarkson's guile and technical quality might actually be exactly what we need in the moment. 

We win the ball back again, it's poked forward to Clarkson, the chip is on, their keeper is miles off his line, Clarkson steadies himself and then doesn't shoot, it's agonising as it seems so the obvious option, maybe it won't sit, maybe he's not quite got to the pace of the game and instead, he slides in Bloxham who just doesn't quite have the space to make anything of it, the keeper sliding out rushing him into a low shot that is smothered. 

---

The fear is we've blown a chance to be comfortable. I can't remember enjoying us play this much this season, but we're drawing and there are no points for style. The midfield has been excellent, Bloxham has marauded - but we're not winning... 

--- 

We come out in the same fashion. The fear that we'd fail to turn the screw is swiftly alleviated as first Karoy and then Clarkson test the keeper... then, CJ bursts forward, he's foiled, but the ball bounces out to Husband who takes one look and strikes a lovely pass into space, Bloxham is there, it's perfect for him, he can cut in, off a right hand channel and he holds it, holds it and at exactly the right moment slides it between the keepers legs and into the net. The roof comes off and Bloxham basks in the moment... 


We keep playing, Clarkson and CJ have efforts, the place is absolutely rocking and then, suddenly the noise, so loud seconds before is gone, it's like someone has detuned an AM radio, where moments before there was loud music, there is only the hissing static of concern. It has become quickly evident that someone has been taken ill, it's an awful thing and all that can be said is to say that everyone in the ground seems to grasp the weight of the moment and to describe any more would be ghoulish

We restart. It's a strange feeling. I wonder to myself if it's selfish to even think about football now. Football is relentless though, it just keeps going. The game takes a few minutes to shake off the delay, but quickly, Pool assert themselves again, Taylor first having an effort saved and then, CJ's redemption arc is complete as he robs a Posh player, drives forward, exchanges passes with Taylor, is into the box, and tucks back a simple, but perfect return pass to the striker, who again, finishes with a calm accuracy that speaks volumes of the quality he's shown during the game, he finds space, he has time, he's precise in what he does. 

That, must, surely, be that. 


This is Blackpool though and of course it isn't. 

Almost immediately, Husband gets caught out by a ball forward, an awkward attempt at clearing it or controlling it isn't either and is instead a perfect through ball. Horsfall is wrong side and is never going to make it back, so he takes the legs of the Posh defender. Instinctively, I think 'that's a red' and it is. Maybe there's cover, but you've be surprised if the Posh player didn't get a shot off without Horsfall's intervention is my take. It's a potential disaster - we've had such control that I'm not sure we actually needed to worry unduly about conceding the goal because we've looked like we could score 5 or 6 ourselves - but with 10 men, that control will be gone... 

My worries don't materialise - we withdraw Taylor to deserved rapturous applause and we regroup. The free kick comes to nothing and neither does anything else. There's a couple of routine saves from BPF, a couple of horrible efforts from Posh where they might have done better - at some point (may have been before the red, I'm not sure) BPF makes a good low stop from a close range effort but overall we keep them at bay, more than anything, we frustrate them and long before the whistle actually goes, it's clear that they don't believe they're going to score. We even manage a few breaks, the tireless Anderson charging up the pitch, CJ setting Bloxham away with a very clever pass into space before he himself ends up up front. We even have a spell of just knocking it around, almost like a good football team... 

When the final whistle goes, the relief is sheer but for once this year, the appreciation of the performance as well as the outcome is there. It's a deserved victory, not simply because we've played well, but because we've shrugged off setbacks and played well in different ways. 

--- 


It's been a great game. I'm not getting carried away, because Peterborough have defended like we've defended for large parts of the season and there's more teams that play like Stevenage than play like Peterborough - but at the same time, it's been brilliant to see us play in practice something like the rhetoric has spoken of - we were on the front foot, we were brave, we attacked in a pack and we had relationships across the pitch - something we've struggled with so much. Anderson and Brown held and went impeccably, they were like pistons in a machine, Clarkson in with those two grafting for him looked real quality, one moment where he shimmied, checked his run, stepped sideways and then held a pass, before releasing the absolutely perfectly weighted ball was something from a beautiful dream, he's got magic in his boots. Walters was strong and solid, Bloxham as good as he's been in a 'Pool shirt and Taylor the quality up front that we hoped he'd be in summer. There wasn't a poor performance from anyone. 

We're nearly there - but we're not there yet... The last month has been much better, we've fought, the quality of our play has gradually improved too. There's still so many questions - but today did show something that can give us hope in the performances of some of our players and our ability to use them to their strengths. 

Knowing how the incident in the North West corner appears to have turned out casts a shadow over it all though. A football crowd is many things and many different people, with many different backgrounds and beliefs but football is one of the few things that binds people in collective experience. It's a tragic afternoon and the tragedy of others always speaks of our shared mortality. 

Football is escape, it's where we forget and where we dream. It's the joy of seeing players live what we can't, it's the bond of being in a crowd, it's the ludicrous meaning in a life that often feels empty or routine. It's what we look forward to in the midst of toil and it's the collective madness we all indulge in, to walk into the stadium and immerse ourselves in whatever happens, cocooned, cut off from outside, knowing that we'll walk out again, blinking back into the real world, full of joy, frustration or whatever. It's made what it is by all of us, by everyone.

Every Blackpool fan, every football fan can only offer condolences, thoughts and sadness. 

RIP Seasider. 


 You can follow MCLF on facebookTwitterBlueskyThreads and Instagram or use Follow.it to get posts sent to your email If you appreciate the blog and judge it worth 1p or more, then a donation to one of the causes below which help kids and families in Blackpool would be grand.

Writing about football is possibly a bit pointless in an era when there's the telly and youtube and videos all over the shop. It's not my living this and it's just something I do because I do so there's no problem with reading it and then getting on with your life - but if you do want to chuck some money at the cause of some random fella writing shit no one ever asked him too, then Patreon. is a thing.

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Yet another bad owner. Where do they breed them?

This is Brooks Mileson. He owned Gretna FC. If you don't know who he is or what the score is with Gretna, it might be worth giving it ...