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| I blame the weather personally |
Preistfield is an odd ground, the main stand looks a bit like an unedifying late 1990s shopping centre or small town bus interchange. The pre match tunes belt out in surreal fashion, birthday wishes echo round the ground before Sweet Caroline greets the players onto the pitch. Why bother?
This week I listened to a podcast on Watford's winning goal in the playoff semi finals. I don't support Watford, I don't have any feelings towards them at all, I don't even remember the game in question, but listening to the intensity of the noise and the descriptions of supporters hanging onto every moment left me unexpectedly emotional for what is, once again, something that seems very distant.
Gillingham are like the Rotherham of the South East. I just don't like playing them. They're always physical, always functional, unglamorous but effective. It's a nowhere place where no one really knows where it is for sure, living in the shadow of bigger cities, never really making their mark on football, but seemingly always quite good at beating us.
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There's a weird hokey-cokey type moment at kickoff, where the Gills player freezes in position to kick for a full 5 or 6 seconds, looking a bit like Eric Morecambe, before the whistle blows - really crap fake crowd noise starts up, an annoying whine as opposed to the full throated roar of a crowd. Sounds more like the sound of wind than the baying and chanting of spectators.
Gillingham are quickly in front, winning a corner from Nottingham's wild clearance. A near post flick crashes into the bar, the rebound is nodded back across goal, then it's bundled home by their no 9 with barely a challenge between the corner leaving the takers foot and the ball hitting the back of the net.
The Gills look rough and ready for the fight, Pool are giving away free kicks as they try to match the oppositions physical commitment.
First chance to the Mighty comes from a bit of battling from Ward, winning a lost cause. Keshi bursts through and tries to feed Yates, but his slide rule pass is deflected, forcing the Gills keeper to back peddle and dive to prevent a potentially calamitous moment.
Hopes of a quick reply fade as Gillingham have clearly knocked Pool off their stride, quick purposeful balls driving at the middle of Pool's defence. Pool lack the crispness of the previous week, even Ethan Robson is caught in possession and the long comfortable spells of passing just don't seem to materialise as Gillingham are right up against our full backs, making our playing from the back seem risky and we struggle to find another way to get moves going.
A couple of moments quicken the heart briefly, CJ stubs one well wide when it looked like it might open up in front of him, Ward has a run from deep inside his own half but seems to run out of steam at the last and swings the cross into the keeper's hands.
There's trouble at mill, when, in the middle of a whole series of Gillingham corners, Marvin and Maxwell go for the same ball. The keeper isn't happy and Marvin protests his innocence to the irate stopper.
Finally we have a better spell, putting some passes together, working crossing chances for Hamilton, Ward and Turton but the crosses don't trouble the gills defence unduly.
Great work from Marvin denies Mellis an equally great chance as they work it quickly within the box - the ex Pool man seems to be about to pull the trigger but the big lad just levers him off the ball and Maxwell can gather. Hopefully they're friends again as result.
A heavy touch from Lubala who has struggled to influence the game and a chance runs away from him.
Nottingham makes a good sliding challenge in the box as Gillingham slice through all to easily easily, working it across the goal and seem about to pull the trigger two or three times before the Sherriff's inervention.
Lubala appears a bit more late in the half, putting himself about a bit and his work wins possession which he spreads wide, Turton is overlapping and he puts a nice ball across which Lubala can't quite get onto and the ball curls past the far post. It's a nearly moment as opposed to a real chance.
Yates shoots from 25 yards and the Gillingham gk has to sprawl to push the bouncing shot away. Again, it's something, but their keeper would have been furious if it had gone in.
Little more of note happens as the game drifts toward half time...
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Pool have lacked guile, they've huffed and puffed and passed but Gillingham look well drilled and well prepared for what we do. We've not really worked a clear cut chance and it feels like we need to offer something different, be it a change of shape or a change of personal.
It's been a half to bring us back down to earth, played under grey skies, against a physical opposition and punctuated by the referees whistle. This is a situation that League One often throws up. Swindon obliged us by playing football of the kind we like to play against.
Have we got the answer to this sort of question?
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It seems we don't, Nottingham misses a challenge, the Gills square it and Demi Mitchell stands off as their forward runs in on an angle then drills it into the bottom corner, it seems like Maxwell dives over it a bit and it's all a bit easy.
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Pool have lacked guile, they've huffed and puffed and passed but Gillingham look well drilled and well prepared for what we do. We've not really worked a clear cut chance and it feels like we need to offer something different, be it a change of shape or a change of personal.
It's been a half to bring us back down to earth, played under grey skies, against a physical opposition and punctuated by the referees whistle. This is a situation that League One often throws up. Swindon obliged us by playing football of the kind we like to play against.
Have we got the answer to this sort of question?
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It seems we don't, Nottingham misses a challenge, the Gills square it and Demi Mitchell stands off as their forward runs in on an angle then drills it into the bottom corner, it seems like Maxwell dives over it a bit and it's all a bit easy.
Changes please Neil.
He obliges but not perhaps in the way I'd imagined he might. The Sheriff makes way for Husband, something I'm not sure will influence the game tremendously, but it is what it is.
There's nice bit work from Ward tight on the line but what happens next kind of symbolises Pool's threat today - a ballooning cross beyond the far post, Lubala tumbles but it never looks either a penalty or a chance.
Gillingham are already slowing the game. Two men go down. The resulting treatment means the free kick takes 3 mins. It's defended by a diving Yates header. The resulting corner which takes another minute to take almost leads to a third but for a poor header that Maxwell is grateful to clutch to his chest.
More changes, and this time the one I wanted. Kaikai comes on for Bez. Sullay can frustrate but he's got class and the ability to beat their defenders. Bez as yet hasn't shown the sort of silken touch or enigmatic magic that our mercurial no 10 possesses. Kaikai seem to take up a central berth with Mitchell pushed forward.
The nearest we've come happens next. A flashing cross from Mitchell, and a stretching Kaikai can't quite get on it. It's taken an over an hour for us to really scare them at the back.
The goal machine comes on for Keshi who strangely clambers into the empty stand on the opposite side of the pitch when his number is shown.
It's the left hand side again as Mitchell wins the ball well, advances and squares to Sullay who shapes and hits a curling effort but the keeper is again equal to it, pushing it back out wide, where Hamilton can't force the rebound home.
More outrageous time wasting as Gillingham's no 20 leaves the field like a pensioner out for a walk in an ornamental garden, flanked by two physios, playing the role of carers, walking equally slowly. Dawdling is not the word. He looks to have slowed time itself down.
Turton is clipped on the corner of the box. Robson is over the ball, here's a chance to overload them at the back... he drills it in but it's all too easily cleared cleared. Moments later, the same player picks up on edge of box and drives but the keeper is equal to it and just has to pat it down and claim, rather then really work.
Another free kick, this time Sullay takes, there's a hand ball shout but nothing is doing, despite the Pool bench turning the air blue. Pool retain possession as the ball comes back out, Yates has it wide and clips it back to Kaikai, in space, just inside the box. Sullay leans back, lashes it, catching it beautifully, his body shape perfect but the ball arrows just past the post. I thought we'd scored until I saw the ball bounce up of the advertising hoarding. It's the first time I've been properly up in the whole game.
Time is running out. The sky is still grey and it looks cold.
Time is running out. The sky is still grey and it looks cold.
Demi Mitchell strikes a free kick that maybe hits the post, maybe is saved and from the rebound, Madine swivels and hits keeper who has, it must be said, done what he has had to do very well.
The last act of the half is a Grant Ward chip which Madine controls and finished in one move but it's offside.
We've had a go at the end but it's too little, too late.
We've had a go at the end but it's too little, too late.
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The last ten minutes was easily the best we've played in the game. Sullay does quite well when he came on and Madine adds some presence and a bit of nous. Yates has caused almost no problems all game, but when the goal machine comes on, he looks comfortable playing off him and getting wide. The preceding 70 or 80 minutes isn't a performance that reflects very well on Pool. Gillingham more than matched us for effort and did simple stuff very well. They didn't let us pass and individually most of our players lost their battles against their opposite numbers. When we did force a bit of an opening, we never looked like taking it.
What is notable is the fact no one really seems to grab the game, no one really seems to issue a bollocking. We just play essentially the same way for an hour. We spend a lot of time politely looking for chinks in a Gillingham defence that just aren't there and hoping for space they won't allow us. They're well drilled, they stay tight and we simply don't offer much of a threat.
What is notable is the fact no one really seems to grab the game, no one really seems to issue a bollocking. We just play essentially the same way for an hour. We spend a lot of time politely looking for chinks in a Gillingham defence that just aren't there and hoping for space they won't allow us. They're well drilled, they stay tight and we simply don't offer much of a threat.
We tried the same side that played Swindon off the park, but Wellens and Evans are very different propositions. On the plus side, Critchley did show some flexibility and change things reasonably early but I felt it was a game crying out for a different approach at half time.
They're able to make chances with relative ease and the lack of a dominating centre half is evident. I think Marvin doesn't have a bad game, but the pairing of him and Notts just doesn't subdue the Gills forward line. They're able to put us under pressure easily and it feels like a defeat where we've been bullied a bit. We've not made any howling errors or conceded any brilliant goals. No one has been dreadful, but virtually no one has been especially good. They've just scored twice, both times, quite easily and then we've not been able to muster a response.
Like the weather, it's been a reminder of winter. Like the news, it left me feeling a bit glum.
Is it a 'reality check?' I dunno. That's a cliche and how many games like this I've watched or listened to I couldn't say. Dismal games against cynical opponents where we come off second best. So many. To imagine we'd suddenly possess the ability to walk through teams like this seems a bit daft. Such is the life of a Pool fan.
We'll be reet.
utmp
They're able to make chances with relative ease and the lack of a dominating centre half is evident. I think Marvin doesn't have a bad game, but the pairing of him and Notts just doesn't subdue the Gills forward line. They're able to put us under pressure easily and it feels like a defeat where we've been bullied a bit. We've not made any howling errors or conceded any brilliant goals. No one has been dreadful, but virtually no one has been especially good. They've just scored twice, both times, quite easily and then we've not been able to muster a response.
Like the weather, it's been a reminder of winter. Like the news, it left me feeling a bit glum.
Is it a 'reality check?' I dunno. That's a cliche and how many games like this I've watched or listened to I couldn't say. Dismal games against cynical opponents where we come off second best. So many. To imagine we'd suddenly possess the ability to walk through teams like this seems a bit daft. Such is the life of a Pool fan.
We'll be reet.
utmp
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