Lads and lasses. You probably won't be able to carry on reading MCLF for much longer cos charging your phone or laptop will become a luxury. I'll try doing some futile crowd funding to get me to games but no one will have any money and we'll all be huddling around bins fighting for warmth as the Premier League elite install en-suite toilets with £10 notes to wipe your arse on next to their diamond plated boardrooms because football is the people's game.
But today, the sun shines. It shines with a gentle warmth that reminds me of both Autumn and childhood. A biplane stalks the path of the M55 like it's that scene from North by Northwest. I don't get strafed by bullets. A Blackpool shirt lies on the carriageway being thrown about by the updraft from cars. How. Did. It. Get. There? It's a tragedy and a mystery...
The team. Gary Game Changer is once again plain old Gary Goals as we respond to the fact all our technical players have been exiled to Moldova or something by going old school. Lovely stuff. To be honest, whenever I agree with the selection, it goes tits up and Bristol City look pretty good on paper so I'm hoping Gaz has had his pistachio nuts this week and is in the mood cos they've got some lovely footballers and we've got... well, some footballers and Josh Bowler.
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We're off. These lot aren't as good as I thou... Oh, they've hit the post. Very easily. They've not brought many but they're making a racket already. We look all a bit shaky but we calm ourselves a bit by winning a corner. It's not hitting the post to be fair, but it's something to cheer. They're still on top. They put one onto the roof of the net. We mock it, but it's fairly close. They look a bit like an unlucky version of Burnley from the first 10 minutes last week. We look a bit like ourselves against Burnley from the first 10 minutes last week.
Marvin slams in a great tackle. Then he does another one. That's better. It gets us going a bit more. Thompson is looking well up for it. Shuttling up and down, taking quick throws, lifting the ball over the top. The crowd is a different beast to the last home game too. We're growing into the game and the noise is appreciative, we're urging, not castigating.
Then, a ball from the right. It's nice, but not sensational. Madine, backing in, taking down, fuck me, that was magnetic stuff, he's holding his man, he's waiting, he's released it and Bowler has... SCORED!!!! YES! It looks a bit scuffed from where I am but I don't care. Gary Game Changer Goals made it and he's punching the air to the south before everyone mobs each other and we sing with delight. The West Country lot are silent and mutter amongst themselves about commuter journeys to London and complimentary therapies for a bit.
We're really good for a while. Even Gary is pressing (again!) and he nearly repeats the feat of setting up Bowler with an acutely angled back heel, but Bowler runs just past the ball. There's a ball over the top that Lavery races on to, doesn't quite steer past the keeper. It pops up, Gaz slides in with the keeper but doesn't quite turn it past him and then the ref blows up because anyone who gets slid in on by Gary Madine probably needs a check over at A+E at least.
There's some wild moments where we pinball it about from side to side across the box and no one wants to shoot until Bowler, who will always want to shoot doesn't quite get it right but everyone celebrates the idea of shooting and the general concept of Josh Bowler as if we've all finally collectively realised he's actually pretty fucking good at once. There's one where Jerry just can't get it out of his feet and, one when a ball is curled to the far post and Lavery stretches everything and another where Gaz reaches it but can only kind of turn it back into play to the keeper.
It's been great! We've seen Jerry coming deep to help the brutal Connolly and the tigerish but slightly erratic with his passing Dougall. Bowler has tracked back. There is a rumour he's actually headed a football in this very game, but I've not seen it if he has. Even Gaz has had a stint at full back (no really, he has) covering for Gabriel who is winning everything in the air and generally setting a tempo.
We're just fading a little though. The snapping into the press is a little less sharp. We let them dally on the ball a bit. Our midfield is outnumbered but you wouldn't have known. Hold on to half time... Fuck's sake Pool. From the right, low ball in, smashed into the roof of the net. Mandalas, turmeric lattes and dreamcatchers go everywhere in the the East and we all slope off for a piss or a pie having been brought back down to earth by the miserable truism that if you don't score when you're on top, it'll bite you on the arse.
We're just fading a little though. The snapping into the press is a little less sharp. We let them dally on the ball a bit. Our midfield is outnumbered but you wouldn't have known. Hold on to half time... Fuck's sake Pool. From the right, low ball in, smashed into the roof of the net. Mandalas, turmeric lattes and dreamcatchers go everywhere in the the East and we all slope off for a piss or a pie having been brought back down to earth by the miserable truism that if you don't score when you're on top, it'll bite you on the arse.
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I notice that Thorniley isn't warming up with the rest so assume Williams is going off cos he got a knock first half. It proves to be so. We need a quick start here. I'm imagining that Brizzle were surprised by how we played as it's not like we've lined up in previous games but I can't imagine they'll remain surprised once Pearson has got into them.
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We're doing ok. The energy that flagged a bit is back. Brizzle are clearly on a mission to batter Gary Madine. I can see Pearson, his masculinity bruised by another burly bloke doing well against one of his teams, going down on his haunches and saying some macho shite like "oi, dickheads" (his centre backs) "are you going to let that lump piss on you? He turned you, you daft cunt. Kick him. When the refs not looking, fucking drop him. Or I'll drop you"
We break on the right. the ball comes in. Jerry... oh, Jerry, you fucking football genius. He's dummied it and Madine is in. He controls it... slowly... He always looks like a kid carefully balancing something breakable on a shelf when he's about to shoot... He strikes it well, bottom corner, but the keeper throws himself down and has a hand on it... So close.
Corner... In it comes. Someone is up on it. Someone is hooking it, The net bulges! Jerry runs away... YES!!! The PA gives it to Connolly for no apparent reason but the North makes it clear that we're on a piss up with our favourite no 9... WHERE WE GOING?
We keep going. The first half ended with us chasing them a bit and conceding fouls but this is them chasing us and snapping at our heels in a bad tempered way. Marvin nods one at goal. Gary shoots into a defender... Keep going!
Josh Bowler then sets off. I don't know if I'll ever get to write about Josh Bowler again, so I'm going to write for my life with this. The boy has given me so much pleasure I can feel the tears of an 8 year old who is has just found out that big teams take their heroes from them welling at the back of my eyes as I imagine him not being ours anymore. I don't care about the money, I don't care about 'sensible future planning' and 'long term realities' - this run is what football is. It's just... breathtaking.
He takes it deep, a cushioned touch, then pushes it out of his feet. "Go on Josh" shouts a bloke behind me, like this moment is what makes his week. "Go on!" echoes round the ground. It makes all of our weeks. He's still cruising, the defender is doing all the right things, watching the ball, shadowing, not diving in, but wait for it... wait for it. BANG! he goes, he's away, like a police launch past a fucking canal barge. Magical. That's not the half of it. The next lad is there and clearly Bowler has shown him too much of the ball, but oh, no, he's not. He's just fucking taking the piss as he leaves the ball behind, then suddenly drags it with him as close to his foot as a mother holding a baby tight as she runs through streets with exploding shells and shrapnel. No one is going to take that ball. No one. A feint and he's past a third into clear space. I literally whoop out loud. In a weird high pitched way. I don't make weird involuntary high pitched noises very often. I really don't. This lad. Fuck me. It doesn't matter that the ball across comes to nothing and (I think) Jerry falls over instead of doing anything with it. That. Was. Unbelievable.
We are and have been blessed with this lad. A few more months here and he could make a name for himself that will take him anywhere he dare to dream of, instead of being third choice at a relegation threatened side. C'mon Josh... It makes sense... It does... Your fucking agent doesn't see stuff straight. They're just blinded by the money. This, right here, is the platform to show just exactly how good you are. Every week. We can only hope and dream. No matter how far fetched it may be.
We're well on top, but the ref decides to give them a free kick for no reason. We're not happy, but they take it quickly and our rage turns to panic as they go up the middle in a space vacated by us being a bit cross and into the box. Thompson gets back, gets a tackle in but the ball just bounces up to their man. Thompson twists and turns and does everything he can do to fill all the space in front of their lad but he can't be everywhere at once and the ball is arrowed perfectly inside the far post and into the side netting. It's a superb finish but a fucking shitty goal against the tide.
C'mon! Brizzle are bouyed and their fans let us know about it. 'Ci-dy' 'Ci-dy' they chant. I don't trust a set of fans that replace t's with d's. They're a bunch of dossers and dwads. It's possibly a sign of Bristol's rampant gentrification. Maybe they're all trust fund city types who've downsized and cashed in and moved west? Where's the cider and stuff?
Worse is to come for us and from them.
Another free kick. We have the usual faff setting up. Grimmy is just having a bit of water, his mouth a bit dry from all the smoking... Grimmy hasn't realised that the right hand bit of his goal is entirely exposed. Their lad has and he skids a very sharp effort that Grimmy has to flies across goal like he's realised someone is stealing his BMX and throw himself down to stop. It was poor positioning, but a superb stop. Luck is rarely our friend and of course the ball bounces straight upwards, where Wells slams a header in. Hang on, maybe luck is our friend today, cos the header hits the bar. Luck then turns and gives us the finger, before running off laughing as the ball comes off the bar, hits Marvin in the face and falls into the goal. I drop to my knees and crack my right kneecap on the concrete. The pain feels about right.
They're jumping about singing 'lets go fucking mental' enthusiastically. What is this crowd? Is it a group on their gap year in getting a bit over excited after 3 drinks? I hate them. Football can fuck right off.
We're not getting back into this... We make one chance which the dogged Connolly shanks wide. That's it. Gaz has gone, Theo is on. CJ is on. Brizzle will just knock it around and their fans will remind us that 'they pay our benefits' in a hilarious satirical chant and then Nigel Pearson will strut about like a big angry old rutting walrus beating his chest with his flippers. I'm not up for that.
Bez is doing the world's longest lunge. He's there for about 5 minutes, down on the same knee. Has he got the tightest thigh muscle in the world? Has he stopped working? Has time frozen in the Northwest corner? Why is he doing this? It says something, that I'm thinking very much of chucking him on to run around like a madman and bump into people cos that might work (it won't, but it might)
Brizzle do indeed knock it around for a bit but then Jerry gives them the hurry up. How is he still running so hard? The hurry up results in a sloppy square pass. The Mountie is harrying the last man. He can't do it again surely? This is literally the same as last week. He fucking is! He's robbed it, he's shoulder to shoulder... He's through. The ground takes a breath... Just like last week, Theo seems to control time itself and then, just like last week, he arrows a shot into the corner and just like last week there is DELIRIUM! Take that SS GREAT BRITAIN, FUCK YOUR SUSPENSION BRIDGE, FUCK YOUR QUIRKY GREEN MAYOR, FUCK GREAT WESTERN TRAINS, FUCK MASSIVE ATTACK, FUCK BANKSY AND FUCK OFF HOME. THIS IS OUR SHITHOLE - IT'S WHERE WE BELONG - SO FUCK OFF AND TAKE YOUR SHITTY SONGS WITH YOU. They don't really deserve that spiel to be fair, but there we go. That felt good. If you want balance and reason, read the live text on the BBC or do crochet or something. We even have a chance to win it. Bowler goes right up the middle. He's in full flight again and for reasons I cannot fathom, when he's cut down, the ref just gives a free kick and nothing else. Theo is understandably on a high so he takes it. It smacks the wall and that is pretty much that... ---
Today was a bit ragged if we're being picky. Gaz was great for a while but got smashed about and when we lost his focal point we were a bit lost. We were careless with the ball sometimes, but then, we don't have the players fit who can ping little triangles about so it was what it was. I thought Thompson was great, he may have been a bit slack on the first goal perhaps, but his energy is infectious. Jerry was everything you want him to be, Marvin was really good, the own goal was just shit luck and I thought he played as well as he has this year. We're not the finished article, we're having to chop and change and we're sure as hell not going up like this, but I fucking love it. Appleton played his cards perfectly, both in recognising he couldn't play as he wanted and in shuffling a really depleted pack of cards to get us back into it. You can pick at little bits if you want and point out errors, like you think you're on the Sky couch but why fucking do that, when you can instead, revel in a side that is playing football like they enjoy it, a side who is thinking for itself on the pitch, with a manager that takes brave risks and knows no fear. That's something and for tonight, that's plenty enough for me. I love us.
Brizzle do indeed knock it around for a bit but then Jerry gives them the hurry up. How is he still running so hard? The hurry up results in a sloppy square pass. The Mountie is harrying the last man. He can't do it again surely? This is literally the same as last week. He fucking is! He's robbed it, he's shoulder to shoulder... He's through. The ground takes a breath... Just like last week, Theo seems to control time itself and then, just like last week, he arrows a shot into the corner and just like last week there is DELIRIUM! Take that SS GREAT BRITAIN, FUCK YOUR SUSPENSION BRIDGE, FUCK YOUR QUIRKY GREEN MAYOR, FUCK GREAT WESTERN TRAINS, FUCK MASSIVE ATTACK, FUCK BANKSY AND FUCK OFF HOME. THIS IS OUR SHITHOLE - IT'S WHERE WE BELONG - SO FUCK OFF AND TAKE YOUR SHITTY SONGS WITH YOU. They don't really deserve that spiel to be fair, but there we go. That felt good. If you want balance and reason, read the live text on the BBC or do crochet or something. We even have a chance to win it. Bowler goes right up the middle. He's in full flight again and for reasons I cannot fathom, when he's cut down, the ref just gives a free kick and nothing else. Theo is understandably on a high so he takes it. It smacks the wall and that is pretty much that... ---
Today was a bit ragged if we're being picky. Gaz was great for a while but got smashed about and when we lost his focal point we were a bit lost. We were careless with the ball sometimes, but then, we don't have the players fit who can ping little triangles about so it was what it was. I thought Thompson was great, he may have been a bit slack on the first goal perhaps, but his energy is infectious. Jerry was everything you want him to be, Marvin was really good, the own goal was just shit luck and I thought he played as well as he has this year. We're not the finished article, we're having to chop and change and we're sure as hell not going up like this, but I fucking love it. Appleton played his cards perfectly, both in recognising he couldn't play as he wanted and in shuffling a really depleted pack of cards to get us back into it. You can pick at little bits if you want and point out errors, like you think you're on the Sky couch but why fucking do that, when you can instead, revel in a side that is playing football like they enjoy it, a side who is thinking for itself on the pitch, with a manager that takes brave risks and knows no fear. That's something and for tonight, that's plenty enough for me. I love us.
Onward
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