Football Blog: Tangerine Flavoured

Saturday, September 11, 2021

How long left? The Mighty vs Fulham


Some people rage about the international break as if a week or so without football is like having your methadone cut off by a corrupt GP with a vindictive streak. I quite enjoyed it to be honest. There are other things in the world. You can do stuff with your Saturday like. 

- linger and watch a boiling egg, thinking how weird it is that it looks exactly the same on the outside at the beginning and the end and yet somehow, everything has changed about it. 

- contemplate the nothingness of now in comparison with eternity and try and get your head round the question "what came before the big bang?" 

- go for a bit of a walk or maybe stick some tunes on

I chose a combination of all of the above and what's more, I wasn't without football. Football is everywhere. It's under the bed, it's lurking in the corner of your eye, it's waiting outside of the shower to attack you...

I don't give a fuck about some shitty has been Portuguese sex pest. Fuck off out of my shower you absolute needy always there life stealing game and let me enjoy something else for fucks sake... 

We've had transfer deadline day and some of our boys have even been abroad and scored goals like proper top level players. Also, even though there's been no football, some of our players are more injured than they were before, but that's to be expected at Blackpool FC. I know we want FIFA to face up to the appalling human rights breaches faced by workers in Qatar but at some point, we're going to have to get Amnesty down to Squires Gate to see what's going on. 

Betting on next injury absence is as follows: 

2/1- Callum Connolly spontaneously combusts and singes Jimmy Husband and Richard Keogh in the process. 

5/1- Ryan Wintle in a freak accident involving scaffolding, a quarter of a pint of tomato feed and a rhino. 

20/1- Mike Garrity accidentally runs over the entire left flank of the team on the car park whilst rooting in his footwell for a packet of pear drops that have fallen out of the little tray by the gearstick

(Be gamble aware and when the fun stops. Stop!) 


Anyway. Fulham. Jumped up third division team who if you ignore Berbatov, Van der Sar and all that (and Best, Marsh and all that (and actually, come to think of it, their current team and loads more players and all that)) haven't ever had anyone of note apart from Johnny Haynes and Udo Onwere* and play in a ground with some sort of bungalow in the corner that, when you think about it, sounds like it's a the sort of place a disgraced celebrity would run away to. You can imagine the headline "Craven Cottage" being applied to some coke fueled kids TV presenter accused of sexual harassment being discovered at his secret air b+b hideaway. 

I've digressed. You don't not pay me for this. The game: 

*Just before we get to the game, Udo Onwere is now a top sports lawyer who has represented Rio Ferdinand amongst other people. He was also the player a former chairman cited as an example of the sort of backing he'd given managers when this blogger rang radio Lancashire about 25 years ago to complain about the former chairman not giving the managers a chance to do well. For younger fans wondering what the fuck I'm on about, Udo Onwere was essentially not very good and a similar situation would be like Sadler bigging up Ollie Sarkic as a top signing. Now, the game. For real. 
--- 

Critch has picked the wrong team. Everyone says so. Why has he done that? The big (little) idiot. I decide playing Keshi on the left is practically the stupidest thing anyone has ever done. 

Pool start well though. Keshi is probing, Bowler is haring down the wing. There's balls into the box, there's neat, quick play, there's cut backs and really quite fabulous pressing with Fulham losing the ball and us on the front foot quickly, looking purposeful, incisive and absolutely mad for it. This is terrific, they were supposed to be really good, but it's us that look top of the league!

We pressure, we press, we hound. Garbutt is miles up the pitch. Jordan Gabriel looks like he's never been away. Lets talk Ryan Wintle. How the fuck is he so good so quickly. He's sort of like Matty Virtue but smoother. Sort of. He's getting stuck in, but here he is now spreading play and putting Keshi away. I like him. Him and Kev are good together. It looks balanced. We look balanced. 

John Jules puts the keeper under pressure, he just makes it. Jerry sniffs around a low ball, again, the keeper is just in time. Keshi lashes it from distance. Heads are in hands, It dipped, it swerved, it snuck wide. It deserved to crash into the back of the net and send the stands into ecstasy. We keep the pressure on, so much so that I swear the Fulham keeper has a lie down and some treatment just to break up the play. We've been relentless. They've broken once, a good, fast break it was, but the shot at the end was hurried and well wide. We just look more composed than them. 

The play resumes and their cunning plan works a bit. They're a bit more in the game for a while, but we're on top form, blocking everything. Nothing really troubles Maxwell. Fulham are sharp when they do attack, but they look a bit shocked that we won't simply let them play. Wintle is still razor sharp in midfield. One particular trackback and tackle on Mitrovic brings the ground to its feet. Marvin is in terrific form, sweeping everything that Richard Keogh doesn't get to and to be fair to cuddly Uncle Richard he gets to a lot. 

We take charge again. It's frustrating though. Everything isn't quite coming off. Garbutt pulls of some skill so filthy that I practically need a shower after watching it to set Keshi away. How he does it, I can't explain. He's boxed in on the touchline, and then suddenly he isn't and Keshi is cutting inside and skidding it across the face of goal. It's like a card trick of a skill. I'm not sure it actually happened. Maybe Luke is a magician. Perhaps he cut Bez in half? Let's leave that there.  

Keshi is fucking great today. Again. He's notionally on the left, but he's also in the middle. He's barrelling about as he does, getting stuck in. He reminds me of a squat little terrier in that mode, but then he's a slalom skier as he weaves in and out of defenders. If Keshi slaloms, Bowler ties people in knots with his pace and slippery footwork. The problem is, he ties himself in knots too sometimes. He goes so fucking fast he hasn't got time to look for the pass, he misses Jerry where a bit of composure might have seen a few half chances as whole ones. He's electric but electricity is dangerous and a few times he gives the ball away. One time, he gets it, runs all over the place, beating people for fun then passes it out of play for no reason. He looks like me, trying to master skill moves on FIFA, my middle aged hands not adept enough to press all the buttons whilst also moving the little stick. 

---

There's not been one grumble around me. Not one. The ground rises together at the whistle. That says it all. We were really good. We should be ahead. I'm worried we've not made the pressure pay. We've been so close to forcing the chance but not quite picked the right pass. The machine is working though. John Jules is a clever thing, slipping passes, turning and finding space to run into. He's done well. Jerry has drifted, stopped, stuttered, checked his run and gone the other way. How do you mark him? They've both played well, but maybe not quite as a pair. 

--- 

Fulham will come out better. They're good after all. They have good players and that. You wouldn't know it to be honest, but that was probably just 45 minutes out of character. This half will be a test. No question. 

We win it back on the right. We keep winning the ball back. Bowler is running, Gabriel is going outside, Bowler is going inside, he's going to offload it, but he doesn't, he just keeps going, it's like watching a really sharp knife cut through a sponge cake as the defence part, he's like a speedboat with a bow wave casting aside the weeds and driftwood as he hurtles into the box, towards the goal, will he over run it? No, he fucking won't... he pokes it ahead of him, then slides and hooks it into the net. What a goal. What a fucking goal! What a player! 

It's chaos. It's loud, it's belief. This is what this team can do, We aren't here to make up the numbers or for a little jaunt to the second tier and back down. We're beating the leaders, deservedly so. 

What have Fulham got? Surprisingly little. I realise I don't actually know who manages them since Scott Parker went to Bournemouth to not be able to beat us. I spot Marco Silva on the touchline. It makes sense that they're not very good. The man's a fraud. He just dresses well and points at things. He's like a shit Arteta and Arteta is shit. Artell is better than Arteta and he manages Crewe. How do these frauds get jobs in Premier League? Solskjaer for fucks sake?  Silva is a bit good looking in a 'bloke someone in their mid 40s who works in accounts would have a fling with in Portugal, getting all carried away with his suave charm and sensitive side only to find he's emptied her bank account on the sly' kind of way. I'm not convinced he knows anything at all about football other than he know Richarlison and his main achievement in English football is that Hull got a bit less shit for a few weeks. Everton dumped fat Sam for doing ok, but kept Silva for ages cos he was fancy. This is a long winded way of saying 'Fulham don't really have a plan B'  

They hit back quickly though, a looping ball from the right isn't cleared and it's falling at the far post, the defence is all flat footed at the near post, one of their players is lining up to shoot and from nowhere, Josh Bowler appears and calm as you like, just take it away and sets us going the other way. I'm actually struggling to describe how happy I am with him. I remember writing earlier in the year that he's going to frustrate, but he's stolen my heart. 

Yeah, they attack a bit more, but it's, dare I say it... comfortable. Here's a ball over the top though, here's footrace between a pacy forward and ... oh...shit... Richard Keogh! Fuck! They're in now... But what's this? It's only Richard Keogh, gliding across the turf, not just getting there and wellying out of play, but getting there and turning a sensational first time pass back to Maxwell, all acute angles and perfect weighting. I'm on my feet. Richard Keogh. Take a fucking bow. 

Time rolls by. We're still playing well. Marvin is still possibly the world's best defender footballer. They whip a low shot just past the post but Maxwell has it covered. He dives and lies there, his arm out all along the turf, palm fixed in place. I wonder if keeper sometime wish the shots that go wide like that had just crept inside the post. 

I keep looking at the clock. Time doesn't seem to pass until suddenly there are ten minutes left and the nerves hit me. We've given everything. Wintle has gone off to a real reception and Dougall has entered to another. Jerry and Shayne have swapped to similar noise. Lavery is haring about manfully but Fulham are looking for the kitchen sink and whilst they may not have found it yet, there's definitely some plumbing starting to fly our way. Is this the worst image I've ever used? I don't know and I don't care because we've got to hold on. 

A ball flashes across goal. A cross comes in. I turn to my lad and say 'Richard Keogh has played really well hasn't he?" and not 30 second later, he does his trademark wander up the pitch and loses the ball. Fulham storm up the middle, but we snuff it out. That's this team. They've got each other's backs. Wide left, they screw a cross in and Maxwell springs, pivots and throws up his hands to let it go by. It corkscrews about 2 yards past his far post and I'm nearly sick in my hands. This is hard going now. 

Bowler hares down the middle. He's a bowling ball (see what I've done there?) and they're skittles scattering. Keshi has the freedom of Blackpool outside him. Fuck it, Keshi actually has the freedom of Lancashire outside him but Bowler has a strike (fucking hell, sorry) in his mind and he pulls the trigger and lashes it over the top. A pass and the game was over. You can't tame this sort of player though. The instinct is everything. When a player does the impossible, chiding them for not doing the possible every time is missing the point of why they're special.  

They get a corner. They get some more crosses. Keogh is heading. Marvin is heading. Marv is shouting, indicating the line to hold. A ball floats over, Keogh can't reach his man for once, there's a header, bottom corner, shit... the world nearly implodes... but there is Maxwell, flinging himself low and turning it away. It's a superb stop. He is the best keeper in the world low down. I don't give a fuck. He is. It's hilarious that we got him for nothing. How did that actually happen? 

Jimmy Husband comes on for John Jules. It's really striking how much Jimmy talks and how much the rest of the defence listen. He's straight on for a free kick and he marshalls everyone and then calmly shields the ball past the post. I get a bit stroppy that he doesn't get the reception he should when he comes on but then I decide it's probably nerves, not antipathy for the topknot god. 

Somehow the ref finds 5 minutes? Five? Where did he get that from? There's barely been a pause this half. They are camped in front of our goal. They nod one at Maxwell. They shoot one at Maxwell. The ball bobs and bounces about in the box horribly and finally they head another one at him, it loops, it makes me queasy, but Wales' rightful no1 stretches, back peddles, takes it above his head on the line and doesn't stumble over it and we breath. Then we let our a mighty roar. Fucking hell... 

---


It was a tremendous effort. From everyone. From 1 to 29 and all in between. The players go to the north mostly but Jordan Gabriel goes to all three stands and celebrates like he means it in front of each one. It's so good to have him back. How on earth have we found Ryan Wintle? He looked like he's always played for us. He was terrific, a good range of passing, short and long and real presence in the tackle. His performance possibly explains how Crewe looked so good against us last year at Bloomfield. 

The forward play was mobile and pacy, players swapping, coming inside, going outside, making Fulham's defence look really quite leaden footed. John Jules didn't quite have the break he might have had but he was inventive and instinctive but also pleasingly much more physical. My favourite thing he did was a really quite poor ball out to Keshi, dropping it short, but then racing 30 yards to charge a defender down to win it back. He conceded a free kick, but he got his body involved. I hate to evoke Ellis Simms but there were shades of how he started to really use his strength as well as a glorious run on the turn which got cut short and deserved more that was worthy of Sullay (there I go again) at his very best. 

It one of those, where I could go through everyone and explain how good they were. Let me just put this in context. I've never seen Mitrovic in the flesh. I've seen him on telly looking fucking mint. My impression of him after today is 'not all that' - that's how well the centre halves did. I said it above, but I'll say it again - the team was balanced and that made all the difference. 

Once again then, Critch picks the wrong team cos he's an idiot but it somehow turns out right. We really do all know fuck all. Long may he keep making stupid selections. The fucking magic little calm talking carefully spoken cheeky grinning twinkly eyed imp. 

Oh Blackpool. We love you. 

utmp 

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