Here we go. For the last time in normal time. Does this game mean anything? Maybe, maybe not. We can't start getting picky about who we play. If we're going up, we'll beat whoever and if we're not we won't. What we probably could do with, is a decent performance and some minutes in the legs of the players on the fringe. Third would feel good though. Third is where you get a medal, certificate or rosette at school sports day. Third is a place on the podium. Third is really meaningless, but mentally it's something and in a world of random chaos, the story is the only meaning we really have.
End of season games can be great. One of my all time favourite matches was a Steve McMahon era thrashing of Bristol City. It wasn't actually all that as a game, but I sat in the North, basking in beautiful early summer sunshine, watching us put five past them (including an outrageous half volley from distance from, of all people, Big John Murphy) there was the rare and unusual pleasure of knowing the memory of this performance would linger for months, untainted by the inevitable calamity that usually follows positive performances.
There's no such luxury today, just a sense that a similar performance would fuel optimism. Let's look at it properly. If we put in an absolute horror show like we did against Gillingham in Terry Mc's last game, we can all say 'well, that makes selecting the team easier and puts complacency out of the window. Glad we got that out of our system' - we can't lose today We've done the hard bit. I'm honestly not fussed about who we play, bring them on. Any of them. We'll beat anyone! No point analysing it all and driving yourself mad with guesswork...
The roulette wheel selections are in. And OH.MY.GOD.
End of season games can be great. One of my all time favourite matches was a Steve McMahon era thrashing of Bristol City. It wasn't actually all that as a game, but I sat in the North, basking in beautiful early summer sunshine, watching us put five past them (including an outrageous half volley from distance from, of all people, Big John Murphy) there was the rare and unusual pleasure of knowing the memory of this performance would linger for months, untainted by the inevitable calamity that usually follows positive performances.
There's no such luxury today, just a sense that a similar performance would fuel optimism. Let's look at it properly. If we put in an absolute horror show like we did against Gillingham in Terry Mc's last game, we can all say 'well, that makes selecting the team easier and puts complacency out of the window. Glad we got that out of our system' - we can't lose today We've done the hard bit. I'm honestly not fussed about who we play, bring them on. Any of them. We'll beat anyone! No point analysing it all and driving yourself mad with guesswork...
The roulette wheel selections are in. And OH.MY.GOD.
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| Sir Gary Big Gaz Maz Goal(s) Machine Madine |
Either this is a chance for a fond farewell or a test to see if he can be the ace in the hole for the play offs. The little point of difference off the bench. Either way, fuck it. Everything is better with Gaz. It's equally exciting to see Brad Holmes starting. In fact, it's more exciting... Gary is a FOOTBALL GOD, but Brad's one of our own and it's forever since we had someone like that. Stuart Moore comes in as well. It'll be interesting to see if he exists or whether we're playing without a keeper and just going to dump a jersey on the ground in the six yard box. I'm not going to believe in the physical reality of him until I've seen him for myself. Marvin, Stewart and Keshi all play as well, which is great stuff and Demi, who has looked like he's got a point to prove in his last few sub appearances, gets a deserved chance from the start. Basically, after all the measured selections of recent months, Critch got Mike to nip to Macro for WD40 and then gave the selection roulette wheel such a mad waz that all the balls flew off and whoever he picked up first got picked.
Lets go!
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The sprinklers sprinkle into life as Ten Pole Tudor lurches out the PA. It's a wonderful life isn't it? A patch of grass and a football match. What more can you ask for? Jimmy the topknot genius is the skipper, Brad is looking hungry as he toes the halfway line, anticipating exploding into action on the whistle. It blows, piercing the slumbering Sunday mood and Holmes sprints to chase. We're off...
The first action sees the actual Stuart Moore get a cross a bit wrong. No harm done though. Peter Clarke sounds like someone who hasn't been to Liverpool doing a scouse impression. Holmes links well with Keshi then gets chopped down. From the free kick, a weak clearance drops for
We put together a really nice move. Stewart driving play, Embleton threading it, Keshi tricking his way to a corner. It's a good delivery from Embleton but it flashes across the face of goal without a killer touch. At the other end, they cause is a similar problem with Thorniley's last ditch touch sending the ball skimming over the bar. In response, we start a move with a beautiful pass down the line by Demi, away goes Gabriel, the cross sliding again across the face of goal, we football it about on the left, work it back to Keshi who goes outside then inside, finds space, drives it hard, the keeper saves and Demi finishes to move he started by hitting it over the top from 8 yards out.
The lively Demi races through and is chopped down. Embleton takes a horrific free kick. Demi then earns a round of applause from our little twinkle eyed imp of tactical masterclasses for some closing down. Critch *hearts* closing down. Holmes goes down in the box. The ref doesn't care. Embleton and Keshi link beautifully for a goal made entirely of first touch one twos but a whistle for nothing in particular in the build up means it doesn't count.
Joey Barton looks 'Man at TK Maxx' in his skinny trousers, padded coat and cap, swigging a bottle of water with a bit of pointless swagger. He's a singer for an indie band that once were third support for the Charlatans. All attitude and no voice. A bit like Northampton, Rovers don't look so bad at some stuff but seem to lack much purpose in the last third. Demi has another great run, he lays it off to Embleton who turns, spreads it, Husband controls, puts it back into the middle, Keshi works a chance to shoot and curls it just over the top.
Keshi tries to win a long ball. He gets pulled, then it seems he gets a hand in the face. The ref is uninterested. I watch Holmes for a bit (at least as far as the camera will let me) and I like his style. He's comfortable coming deep, he jogs constantly, working the line, looking for the little gap and making the centre back work all the time. He goes to the right, turn, loops back on himself then sprints across the box. This is no headless kid. There's much to learn, but there's a certain maturity to some of his game and he's got the physique to compete.
It's Holmes involved in the next moment, he gets the right side of his marker, Keshi slides him through, he's shoulder to shoulder, then he's through and then he's stumbling and falling. It's a free kick and a booking but if there'd been a crowd, there'd have been screams that it should have been more. Keshi aims for the top corner but hits the pole that holds the net taut instead.
Again Keshi provides, A ball swept wide, headed first time by Anderson, a cushioned little dart that Husband goes for a spectacular leaping effort with his left, misses it, then scoops it off the ground with his right, but straight at the keeper. We keep coming. Holmes wins a corner, Embleton has a shot blocked. Peter Clarke is one the world's slowest talkers. Chissy calls the opposition 'Bristol Rogers' - I can't decide if that's some kind of adult film star or a country music singer. I decide it's the latter as I can't deal with anything adult being associated with Chissy. We do loads of passing, but no one wants to have a go.
Embleton has a divine touch, a beautifully disguised back heel. Gabriel races on to it, turns his marker inside out, pulls a lovely ball back, Holmes lets it run, Keshi emerges from a bit deeper, completely unmarked and hits it hard. The keeper throws up his arms, more defensively than anything else and is as surprised as anyone when the ball hits one of them and rolls wide.
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We've played quite nicely. It's encouraging to see the way Keshi has been the main threat and looked sharp and hungry. Demi has been pretty effective with the usual caveat that his end product hasn't quite been there. Holmes hasn't looked out of place, Marvin has had a nice quiet afternoon, Stewart has been steady and we can now be sure that Stuart Moore does exist, though he might as well not do as Rovers have barely looked like forging an attack.
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There's no changes at half time. Marvin decides he feels sorry for Stuart Clarke having nothing to do and pings a pretty racy back pass at him. He does well with it. I'm now on Super Gaz watch. No sign so far. The bench is full and Critch is guarding it with folded arms, a little gnome with super powers like something out of David Bowie's labyrinth except with more branded sportswear than you'd expect a gnome to wear. Maybe if we answer his cryptic riddle, he'll put Big Gaz on?
Stuart Moore then decides to give himself a test, making a hash of a back pass and sliding out in panic to rectify his error. The ball rolls wide, a Rovers man goes down. The ref gives a goal kick. There's a chance as Thorniley prompts, Embleton takes the invite, does some step overs and hits a grass cutter at the near post. Demi whallops one from distance that looks like it could catch the keeper out and sneak in, but hits the side netting.
We go through a little spell where all that happens is we run at them and they trip us up. Embleton ends that phase by almost hitting a curling shot from the corner of the box into the top corner. Half a yard further out and we'd be hailing a stunning goal.
Rovers then come alive. A woeful finish foils them first, a great sliding block from Jimmy second. Is this little spell a sign that a change is due? Stewart is robbed in possession. the Rovers man just goes straight down the middle, has a shot, it clips Gabriel, wrong foots Moore, who does brilliantly to get a foot to it. The corner comes in, Rodman is free. He heads it wide. They should have scored at least once. You have to feel this isn't the first time they've felt like that this year.
Big Gaz watch is being frustrated by the fact the ball isn't going anywhere near the bench. Someone is warming up. Surely it's the talisman? I know Critch though and it's just as likely to be Ollie Turton. A burst of excitement as Holmes robs the ball, there's a split second when he looks free to slip it home, the ball balloons up, he chases and then gets cleaned out. The ref overlooks it completely. We get a shot of the bench. Gaz isn't sat on it. Holmes gets treated and seems ok.
Embleton and Husband fiddle it about and win a corner. Simms is waiting to come on. He scores goals, but he's not Gaz! Thorniley slides at the far post and can't quite reach the cross. As if to confirm my mystic abilities, Turton joins Simms on the touchline. Of course he's bringing Turton on. He loves Turton almost as much as he loves closing down. We have more nice interplay, a sublime touch from Keshi included and another corner. Kevin Stewart has a dig and it's blocked, he hit it so hard it bounces back to the halfway line.
Keshi and Holmes come off. I'd have maybe taken Stewart off cos I think he's looking a bit leggy. Marvin looks worryingly as if he might have done his hamstring again. Then we gallop forward, it's hit into Simms, he lays it off for Demi, who chests it, runs into the space, clips it back to Simms who just places it into the corner of goal. It's a lovely bit of direct play, a tricky finish made to look like a piece of piss and testament to how this lad has improved over the time he's been here. A minute later, he's involved again in the build up, and is a heavy touch away from repeating the trick as Turton puts him away.
Then we go to the bench. IT'S HAPPENING! I'm going to stand up and applaud from my couch. Gaz is getting ready! Marvin gives away a free kick in the corner. Bristol have made about 600 subs. Moore has to flick it out from under the bar. He we go. Embo is off...
Stuart Moore then decides to give himself a test, making a hash of a back pass and sliding out in panic to rectify his error. The ball rolls wide, a Rovers man goes down. The ref gives a goal kick. There's a chance as Thorniley prompts, Embleton takes the invite, does some step overs and hits a grass cutter at the near post. Demi whallops one from distance that looks like it could catch the keeper out and sneak in, but hits the side netting.
We go through a little spell where all that happens is we run at them and they trip us up. Embleton ends that phase by almost hitting a curling shot from the corner of the box into the top corner. Half a yard further out and we'd be hailing a stunning goal.
Rovers then come alive. A woeful finish foils them first, a great sliding block from Jimmy second. Is this little spell a sign that a change is due? Stewart is robbed in possession. the Rovers man just goes straight down the middle, has a shot, it clips Gabriel, wrong foots Moore, who does brilliantly to get a foot to it. The corner comes in, Rodman is free. He heads it wide. They should have scored at least once. You have to feel this isn't the first time they've felt like that this year.
Big Gaz watch is being frustrated by the fact the ball isn't going anywhere near the bench. Someone is warming up. Surely it's the talisman? I know Critch though and it's just as likely to be Ollie Turton. A burst of excitement as Holmes robs the ball, there's a split second when he looks free to slip it home, the ball balloons up, he chases and then gets cleaned out. The ref overlooks it completely. We get a shot of the bench. Gaz isn't sat on it. Holmes gets treated and seems ok.
Embleton and Husband fiddle it about and win a corner. Simms is waiting to come on. He scores goals, but he's not Gaz! Thorniley slides at the far post and can't quite reach the cross. As if to confirm my mystic abilities, Turton joins Simms on the touchline. Of course he's bringing Turton on. He loves Turton almost as much as he loves closing down. We have more nice interplay, a sublime touch from Keshi included and another corner. Kevin Stewart has a dig and it's blocked, he hit it so hard it bounces back to the halfway line.
Keshi and Holmes come off. I'd have maybe taken Stewart off cos I think he's looking a bit leggy. Marvin looks worryingly as if he might have done his hamstring again. Then we gallop forward, it's hit into Simms, he lays it off for Demi, who chests it, runs into the space, clips it back to Simms who just places it into the corner of goal. It's a lovely bit of direct play, a tricky finish made to look like a piece of piss and testament to how this lad has improved over the time he's been here. A minute later, he's involved again in the build up, and is a heavy touch away from repeating the trick as Turton puts him away.
Then we go to the bench. IT'S HAPPENING! I'm going to stand up and applaud from my couch. Gaz is getting ready! Marvin gives away a free kick in the corner. Bristol have made about 600 subs. Moore has to flick it out from under the bar. He we go. Embo is off...
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| Blackpool's no 14.... |
...and here's the Goal Machine... A desultory stretch. As if he needs to warm up... He's Gary fucking Madine... A quick touch of fists with Embleton and the head is down, and he's cruising on. A big American truck of a forward. Life is good.
Rovers goes right down the middle and find a shot, Moore makes another good save, plunging to his right and throwing out a hand to turn it wide. Rovers do exert some pressure, we withstand it, but it's a bit edgy. We launch a long free kick. The Goal Machine leaps, but he's not quite fine tuned yet and the magic doesn't happen. Rovers have another attack, but again, their finishing is dire. Simms and Madine combine and Super Gaz tries to muscle through but is squeezed out.
Rovers are throwing everyone forward. A long throw gains a corner. The corner is cleared. We race forward and now we're in the corner at the other end. Lovely stuff. Madine takes it then as calm as you like, just puts it into the legs of the defender and wins another throw, like an adult playing football with a toddler. Super Gaz, taking the piss in the corner at the end. As it should be.
Rovers goes right down the middle and find a shot, Moore makes another good save, plunging to his right and throwing out a hand to turn it wide. Rovers do exert some pressure, we withstand it, but it's a bit edgy. We launch a long free kick. The Goal Machine leaps, but he's not quite fine tuned yet and the magic doesn't happen. Rovers have another attack, but again, their finishing is dire. Simms and Madine combine and Super Gaz tries to muscle through but is squeezed out.
Rovers are throwing everyone forward. A long throw gains a corner. The corner is cleared. We race forward and now we're in the corner at the other end. Lovely stuff. Madine takes it then as calm as you like, just puts it into the legs of the defender and wins another throw, like an adult playing football with a toddler. Super Gaz, taking the piss in the corner at the end. As it should be.
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This game won't live long in the memory. Simms isn't the complete article but he's such a good finisher and his awareness has improved massively. I've not a lot more to say. We did the job, we kept a clean sheet. Moore made some good saves, but he's not Maxwell. The squad is looking much broader than it did and the bench much, much stronger.
We've finished third, we've got Oxford. 80 points is loads of points. I might hide from football now for the next nine days. You spend all season trying to get into the play offs and then they're absolutely terrifying when you get there.
We've finished third, we've got Oxford. 80 points is loads of points. I might hide from football now for the next nine days. You spend all season trying to get into the play offs and then they're absolutely terrifying when you get there.
It'll be reet. We're an unstoppable force. A chameleonic juggernaut with a calm man at the helm who has turned out to be far more flexible than anyone thought he ever would be... It will be ok... I've nervous already. Petrified. Deep breath. Believe...! It's us. The play offs. They might as well just give it us now...
There'll be a masterclass. The harder they come at us, the harder we hit back. We went toe to toe with them and won a fabulous game. They always try to play, we love it when the opposition does that. Am I convincing myself? I don't know. Come on. Critch is zen. Critch will get it right. We're fucking ace!
Fuck it. I'm terrified. I'm going pretend it's not happening till next Tuesday at 5.45. Don't talk about it to me. What play offs?
There'll be a masterclass. The harder they come at us, the harder we hit back. We went toe to toe with them and won a fabulous game. They always try to play, we love it when the opposition does that. Am I convincing myself? I don't know. Come on. Critch is zen. Critch will get it right. We're fucking ace!
Fuck it. I'm terrified. I'm going pretend it's not happening till next Tuesday at 5.45. Don't talk about it to me. What play offs?
Onward!
utmp
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