Dobbie's at the wheel and he's decided the car will be fast, sleek, sporty, dangerous and downright impractical. I fucking love it. To be honest, I didn't mind Appleton's flawed concept car as at least it was an idea but Mick's battered boxy D reg Ford Granada with a dodgy clutch and knackered gearbox of a team was horrible.
I'm absolutely done in. There is no more blog in me. I can't say the same things again as I've said all year. I don't know why I do it anyway. It's weird. A grown man writing up football games like it's a kids scrap book. What the fuck is wrong with me?
The game was beautiful in a way. We played well. We could have scored 4, maybe more. We didn't. The crowd was magic. I don't know if I can make Millwall. If I can't, that's my last game this year. It's sad. I may not see Jerry again. One pass in the corner, in an impossible hole but a shimmy and a ball so cute that it seemed to teleport to a 'Pool player. I might not see Keshi again. A clever player, a run on the diagonal, telegraphing a pass, but then switching direction and fooling everyone. I might never see the ghost of Josh Bowler who fluttered and stuttered and made one little run that was like the merest, shortest lived spark but one that ignited an inferno of memories of the actual Josh Bowler. Maybe no more of Jud's trudge...
All of that is sad. The page turns one way. You can only go forward. Never back.
I can't be the only one for whom the ten minutes early in the second half where we sung and sung and sung and they attacked and attacked and attacked was something akin to bliss. I just want a team in tangerine to play like that. A stupid football team, drunk on football, playing without fear and going again. They didn't give up. Fuck the world. Play with joy, play with swagger.
West Brom were crap. A load of robot lumps who scored from a corner and a crap failed clearance.
We were invention, we were intent, we were down the line, over the top, movement this way and that. Even CJ was decent and appeared to know why he was on the pitch. Dobbie weaved what he had into a compelling tapestry. Every move he made was the right one. Even as the game ebbed away, the driving force of Anderson and Fiorini gone, he sent on Brad Holmes and that put a little bolt of energy through the crowd.
We were invention, we were intent, we were down the line, over the top, movement this way and that. Even CJ was decent and appeared to know why he was on the pitch. Dobbie weaved what he had into a compelling tapestry. Every move he made was the right one. Even as the game ebbed away, the driving force of Anderson and Fiorini gone, he sent on Brad Holmes and that put a little bolt of energy through the crowd.
With the quality we have in midfield off the pitch, we couldn't make anything more though. Holmes harried and chased, we threw players up but if you've nothing in the middle, then the game will pass you by. That's the story of the season.
What makes it sad was that this was one of the more engaging chapters. Most of the teams we've played this year have been shit. Had we bothered to play football a bit more, had we got an actual midfielder or two, we'd not be going down. A team that turned up and played like that every week would win their share of games.
I can't be arsed blaming and raging now. It's all been said and whilst some it is wild and ridiculous, there's a lot not been done right. Not on Tuesday though. That was a hell of a lot better. That was Blackpool. For better or worse. That's who we should be. A football team. Players playing the game they want to play, for each other and with purpose.
Well done Mr Dobbie.
I can't be arsed blaming and raging now. It's all been said and whilst some it is wild and ridiculous, there's a lot not been done right. Not on Tuesday though. That was a hell of a lot better. That was Blackpool. For better or worse. That's who we should be. A football team. Players playing the game they want to play, for each other and with purpose.
Well done Mr Dobbie.
Onwards
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