Football Blog: Tangerine Flavoured

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

I scared the cat : the Mighty vs Hull City

This lad tho. 

I'm getting a bit tired of the blogging. I started it cos I liked writing about stuff that happens at football matches. I read one of my early ones and I didn't actually talk that much about the game, more about the surroundings, journeys, weather, opposition crowd, the general atmosphere and else that crossed my vision and hearing. Since then it's become more of a shit knock off Evening Gazette report and less about capturing the essence. More detail but less vivid. But then, what's vivid about sitting on a couch watching a screen?

Just imagine being there. It's a crisp, cool, still night, mid December, the cold in your nostrils, your breath coming out in clouds and your hands thrust deep in your pockets as you stride towards the ground. We're playing the top of the league. Coming from wherever you come from and seeing the white floodlight haze in the distance, outshining the garish colours of decorations on every other house you pass. Reaching the ground and that thronging crowd that seems to circulate round the base of the stands. Police horses shuffling, flanks steaming. Scanning the ticket, the funny little moment where you push the turnstile and a tiny part of you wonders if it will turn. 

Then you're in. Under the stand and there's expectancy and chatter. It's coming up to holidays, people are busy, planning, drinking, having parties at work. Snatches of conversation about reckless nights out and hungover regret, what the fuck to buy her for Christmas, "we'll have to meet up, have a few scoops mate, give us a bell yeah?!" and  "fucking hell, it's gonna clean me out this Christmas..."

Then, up to your seat, nodding, 'alright mate' as you pass by people you know and people you don't but see every week. The team on the screen. More chatter, 'I'd have played Yates and Madine me', 'I dunno mate, maybe he's resting them and swapping them about...' Then, the drum, the singing, the north filling up, the away fans posturing, giving a few volleys of some song you don't know and the north answering with one you do. 

The warm up ending, the last players leaving, the fucking sprinkler is going, even though it's pissed down for days, maybe some lads with forks, walking the pitch looking at stuff only they can see, prodding and tamping at what seems like random. Songs playing, subdued calm before the storm... 

Then, you're on your feet, 'c'mon you Blackpool fans, put your hands together...', the applause now drowning the PA and exploding to a roar as you hear... 'The Seasiders! Drum going again, urgent this time, players jogging on the spot, bouncing, stretching, the ground now a cauldron of noise, nerves, anticipation and just a hint of dread. 

This is football. This is what it's about. Not VAR or XG, not contract sagas or primadonna complaints about schedules, not twitter spats and fan TV and fucking pundits talking shite. None of that. Football, now and in the moment, anything could happen, tragedy, triumph, and all in between... and as the ref blows, the crowd rises again and we're off. It's us, vs top of the league and I wouldn't be anywhere else for all the money in the world. 

--- 

Except it's not quite like that is it. 

--- 

Critch has gone with one in the middle again. What have Gary and Jerry done? It's like a teacher keeping two lads apart cos of the influence they have on each other, except the influence in this case seems wholly positive. It's back to lonely Jerry but also back to Luke Garbutt's free kicks, Ethan Robson's midfield class, Ollie Turton's glorious checking back and Keshi's barrelling runs.

Early pressure from both sides, Hull head past the near post... Pool respond with a bit of CJ action. Both sides are chucking everything at this and there's no time on the ball for anyone. 

CJ runs onto Robson's ball, there's a back heel back to Keshi whose effort causes some gratifying calamity when the keeper drops it and then seems to dive into the post as he scrambles to redeem himself. 

Anderson again on the edge of the box striking it again but this time it ricochets square to Sullay who lays it on to Garbutt. The classy one strikes it well and it arrows just past the far post... 

Hull put it over the top and somehow aren't offside. No matter though as Maxwell is out and taking it quickly from the Hull forward who shows the first touch of a brick. 

From a corner, Hull clear but Sullay dinks it back in first time, it's nodded across goal where it strikes Tom Eaves and forces the keeper to sprawl backwards. I'm convinced its gone over the line but the ref says no, the spoilsport. An own goal from the poundshop Andy Carroll who always scores against us would have been grand. 

Pool have had the better chances but then Maxwell makes a rare bad clearance, gifting Hull possession, one pass and a strike from the edge of the box and a good diving catch and we've got away with it. Hull put a bit of pressure on but we break like lightning, Dougall to Sullay to Keshi then CJ, striding into the box and shooting, low, hard but at a defender... Then Hull come again, a quick ball from the right, lethal looking angle, falling just right for a first time snapshot, Eaves (of all the people you don't want to see there) is running onto it but there's Marvin with a sliding challenge that is as good as anything you will see anywhere in any game. He just gets up like it's just another thing and gets on with loping about as he does.  

The game takes a breather, a few long balls are traded. Hull strike one from deep, Maxwell watches it wide. Pool have a nice move where we pass across the back, going nowhere, one side to the other and back then explode into action, up the pitch in quick passes but Keshi doesn't quite read Sullay's ball at the end. 

Then Hull score. swung in from the left, Wilks gets goal side of Garbutt, it looks like his first touch is heavy but he stretches brilliant and hooks it beyond the keeper. It's a great finish. Imagine the hollow sound if fans were in and the roar of defiance as we kick off... 

Sullay makes space beautifully, he's not been great, but that was a nice touch, he slips it through for CJ who darts onto it and the keeper sprawls at his feet.

Dougall takes a free kick from deep, very quickly spotting CJ in space... Hamilton doesn't disappoint chasing it into the corner then pulling it across for Keshi who turns, runs across the box, I'm thinking 'fucks sake Keshi, just have go' but eventually he spreads for Garbutt arriving from left back. The classy one takes a few strides forward, all the time in the world and crosses, low and hard to the far post, Sullay sticks out a foot hopefully but it's lonely Jerry at the far post to tap it home. Fucking get in!

Imagine the bedlam! 

--- 

I was going to write something about Yates up front on his own, that goal's fucked that up. 1-1 is probably fair. CJ again has been good, I've enjoyed the way he's worked across the line and appeared in the middle at times. For his faults, he just keeps going... Keshi and Sullay have been a bit peripheral and Yates hasn't been seen in the box aside from his tap in. For once, I don't know if I'd stick or twist. Aside from my perennial wish to see the goal machine I'd be tempted to give Dan Kemp some time if Sullay/Keshi don't get more into the game. It's one of those where you can see us winning it or them smacking two goals in quick fashion...  

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Second half starts with us looking weirdly languid and letting them run through the middle. Marvin slides and cuts out a through ball but they come again, working it left where they've acres of space for a shot which Maxwell does well to save. 

A procession of crosses and corners follow which only end when Maxwell gets a crack on the head and what looks like a cuddle from the ref as he checks his health. Hull pressure soon starts up again, a strange moment included where they're racing free, Gretarsson gets walloped in the face and emergency treatment then the ref restarts by setting up a perfect drop ball for them to whip it straight in. Nothing comes from it though.  

It's ten minutes before we have an attack and a further five before anything resembling an effort, Sullay putting it across the box but half a yard behind Yates. Then it's the mighty Goal Machine for Sullay, 2 up front and the dream team united once more. 

Hull keep coming, Keshi sliding in dangerously conceding a frightening free kick they can't take advantage of, Marvin blocking on the edge of the box and the ball ricocheting into Maxwell's hands

Then, a huge kick forward, Madine is there and his presence alone is worth an assist as he just leans on the defender and distracting by the Goal Machine their centre half just lets the ball goes through. Keshi picks it up wide, cuts inside and then smashes it home, a beauty into the bottom corner. So far Keshi has been poor but that's an absolutely storming finish. Imagine the roar, it's one of those that comes as a shock and is immediately followed by renewed tension... 

And Hull come again. A horrible ball to the near post scrambled away. Chaos from a corner, Marvin heading it out as Maxwell comes to catch. A long up and under and we're looking shaky but in the end holding firm. Hull are passing on the edge of the box, looking for a way through, spreading play. 

Then Madine is about again from a floated Garbutt free kick, rising, flicking it into the 6 yard box, it comes off someone and strikes the post, bounces out and of all people on the pitch drops to Marvin who looks like a schoolkid as he tries to very carefully side foot it home but sees it blocked away. 

Then Hull attack some more. Pool mistakes abound, players are getting tired, Virtue replaces Robson, it's scrappy, heavy touches, wild efforts. Marvin is a force of nature. You can tell Yates is knackered when his legs get bowed and he trudges rather than sprints after the ball. Woodburn comes on. The minutes go down further. Gretarsson gets another smack in the face then an evil moment where it hits the side netting but looks for all the world like a goal as the Viking desperately intercepts a cross. We can hang on here... We can do this. Just imagine that crowd, each clearance cheered, the nerves, the hoarse voices. 

But we can't. A corner, a big lad up from the back and a header. Maxwell goes after it but to no avail. The net bulges. It's that sort of header. Imagine the deflation, that horrible tinny cheer of away fans. Seats kicked, programmes thrown down. People turning for the exit. 

Then...  from a free kick, the ball is bouncing around, Marvin goes up and shows vision to find CJ with a header, he's free, in acres of space and striking it hard at the near post but the keeper is there and it's a corner. Garbutt goes deep with the delivery, Madine goes round the back, nods it back across and someone is on it, it's over the top, corner? No... That's it surely. If that stopped the leavers in their tracks, surely now they're heading down the steps. 

Then it's Keshi with a little diagonal change of direction, Woodburn first time, Madine the same and it's CJ!!!!! YES!!!! It's one touch brilliance and CJ bursts through and slips it home. I FUCKING LOVE THIS TEAM! 

Oh my fucking days. Imagine the crowd now. People falling down the steps in the North. People going over rows of seats. Strangers hugged, 20, 30 seconds of just screaming, pure screaming, jut joy, elation, total and utter release. Breathless, dizzy fucking mental joy. Then a breath and turning to their fans and regaling them as they leave. Then Tony Parr with "The Seasiders' goal scorer on 93 minutes, no 22 CJ HAMILTON!!!" and we'd be off again. 

Hold on Pool. It's Marvin heading away. Again. In the real world I've had a bollocking for jumping about and shouting and scaring the cat. It's nearly over... Nearly over. C'mon.... 

IT'S OVER! 

What scenes there would be. Players applauding the fans, socks down, fists clenched. They've given everything and we couldn't have asked for more. One of those nights when you could stay in the ground forever. 

---

What a game. I don't know where to begin. Marvin has been immense and Gretarsson not half bad either. Like a brick wall and a glacier or something though I'm not sure how that would work in practice. Fuck the weird metaphors, they've been simply fucking brilliant against some of the most horrible angular, rough but pretty fucking decent forwards they'll face. 

The rest of them, I don't know. No one has stood out especially but on a night when we've played against as good a team as we will likely face and when it's not especially gone for any of our forwards, the work rate and belief to keep going, keep trying has been the main thing. CJ was up against a decent full back but he kept coming short, moving, trying the middle, coming out right again, kept showing time and time again and he got the reward at the end. Keshi was having a really quite poor match but then shifted onto the left scored one and made one and really put a shift in defensively in the last part. 

Hull were decent. They'll probably think they didn't make enough of their possession and create enough chances but you can tell a decent team by the way they hold themselves, move the ball around, move off the ball and so on and that was a decent side. Top 3 without a question. Only Charlton and Ipswich have had that same vibe this year. Maybe, just maybe, we're starting to get that. Fuck knows though. Live in the moment and fuck all the over thinking and endless dissection of everything. What a game, what a way to win it. 

Credit to Critchley though, his subs have been questionable at times, but tonight he's got it right. Madine made a difference and was part of both goals when he came on, Woodburn part of the third and Keshi improved with the switch. 

I haven't got any more in me. What a game. 

Just imagine if we'd been there. 




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