Mayflies dance on the river Rother. This seems a poetic way to start - It's only April and it's also possible they aren't mayflies but some other small fly that I'm not familiar with but let's not sweat the details of the thing. I've taken a cultural tour Rotherham to pass the time before kick off. I'm not sure if I do or don't find the town centre. I think that's probably a good guide to what Rotherham is like. Let's not be all snobby about it though. I actually quite like it. Look above the whitewashed windows of failed businesses It's got red brick magnificence, though you'd have to wonder whether the Victorian architects looked forward and envisaged their gothic flourishes framing vape shops and takeaways. There's a big billboard presenting the vision for redevelopment with a local business owner extolling the many virtues of Rotherham. I google the business. It's marked as 'permanently closed'
I buy a sandwich from the world's most polite man. It's weirdly quiet. There's loads of people on the street and outside the pubs but it seems the bright sunshine is sedating them. There is not much more than a polite chatter evident as the sound from the PA system drifts across the river and into town on the surprisingly chill wind. The stadium is good, as recently built new stadiums go, it has a bit of character. Outside, there's a river walk with benches and inside the stands are steep and it all feels as if it's tight to the pitch. It doesn't feel very 'English' - it's more like the design you might expect a Swiss or French club to have - the sort of stadium England might play a pre tournament unofficial warm up in, or you'd get a with team from Luxembourg or Belgium playing in the Europa Conference league. Rotherham as a continental destination.
Bruce does the 'same again' thing (again). We need to win. We need to keep winning.
We've had the calm. Now let's have the storm.
---
Sadly Pool barely muster a gathering of clouds, much less conjure thunder and lightning. There's a tiredness in the legs. We play a bit like I feel when I have to get up for work earlier than normal. The routine is normal but the limbs feel the wrong weight and it all seems a bit unnatural.
We seem narrow - we're not getting down the sides as we have been doing and play is sucked into the congested middle. That doesn't suit us at all because Rotherham are combative and physical and we're leggy and lacking in a midfield enforcer. When we do get the ball wide, our crossing is terrible, everything either scuffed or boomed over the box. A fella behind me offers the question "why are the balls in so shit?" - shortly after he offers the sage guidance "cross it better!" - I can't disagree.
Up front it doesn't stick at all. There ain't nobody better than super Ashley Fletcher but he's having one of those days where his trap, turn and run style is only seeing him collide with a defender. Ennis just can't get the ball under control and he looks as flat as I've seen him, possibly the effects of whatever muscle tweak he went off against Bolton with has caught up with him. Sonny is pulled inside and as a consequence, we look lopsided - Coulson has consequentially too much to do on the left and Apter isn't getting away on the right at all.
It's not like Rotherham are pummelling us - but the pressing game is absent - they're pretty direct and that negates our favoured way of playing - they're not really bothered about faffing about at the back, and today, we're not sharp enough to keep them penned in at all - rather it feels the other way round. We look slow to go forward and they snap into us - we still essentially have a squad designed for Critchley and our most dominant performances have come in games like Exeter away or Reading on Tuesday night, against other footballing teams and Rotherham are still very much a Steve Evans side - though one given a quite impressive reboot by their new coach.
I struggle to recall us making much other than a drive from Carey that he strikes nicely enough but is always a little bit speculative. Beyond that, we squander most of the other positions we make.
Their goal when it comes fulfills exactly the stereotype of a 'Rotherham goal' you'd come out with before kick off- A long throw, some outmuscling of defenders and a shot slammed home from close range. It's the kind of goal I've been watching Rotherham score against us since about 1994. In the middle of the sequence Tryer makes a really good save, hurling himself to block the first effort at the far post, only for the ball to drop perfectly for a second player to lash it into the net. It's a killer - on another day, the save is the catalyst for a change in the flow of the game, a moment of inspiration that jolts the rest awake - today it merely delays the pain by a second or so.
Bruce goes to the bench and sends on Tom Bloxham. At the time, I wonder if he's gone full blown Jose Mourinho and is hauling a flat Lee Evans off in disgrace, but when he reveals after the game that he's been sick in the build up to the game it makes more sense. Rotherham score again, Tyrer this time offering not heroics, but a clumsy fumble where he spoons the ball back to the striker but is saved by the flag. I decide I'd be happy to get in only 1-0 down, it's that sort of game.
---
This is the poorest we've played for some time. We've put to bed some curses recently, managing to win home games and Tuesday night games but the curse of the 'big away day following' seems to be looming over us still. Still, with Bruce in the dugout, we usually do something to address a poor showing and we're still in this. We've got goals in the team and Rotherham, whilst definitely on song aren't Honved of the 1950s...
---
We're totally rejigged after halftime. Both strikers, gone - instead we have Bloxham and Beesley upfront. Apter is gone too and CJ and Silvera play wide, with Sonny anchoring the midfield as he has done since Evans went off. Bruce can't be accused of dithering...
We're much improved. For the first 10 minutes of the half, CJ has a lot of joy, finding space on right and pinning their full back deeper than he has been. His most decisive intervention is quite unlikely though, Carey spots him in space and lofts a nice ball forward, CJ nods down (yes!) and Beesley takes the shot on the turn, connecting well enough but dragging it past the post. It's never that close but it's the most coherent bit of play we've managed and it lifts the crowd.
A minute or so later, a cross from the left, a crowd of players, contact and the ball just past the post - Beesley is booked for handball, as he chucks an arm up in an attempt to divert it in. I swear I'm not making this up for the sake of narrative - I think 'it would be the most Jake Beesley thing ever to finally get a chance at playing more than five minutes and then get sent off...'
Slivera looks a bit less lost than he's appeared in recent cameos and he does outstandingly well to get through a crowd of players and fizz a gorgeous ball over, Beesley jumps, turns his head to glance the ball home, but it evades him by the width of a rizla and the ball curls past the post, the cross itself was close enough and any touch would surely have been a goal.
We're better - but we're not at our best. We have more pressure, but after the first little flurry, we're not really able to dominate. Rotherham are, as I've already explained, rather rugged in their approach and the ref isn't especially strict on such play. Albie and Sonny aren't exactly the ideal pairing to go toe to toe with a set off nightclub bouncer style midfield players and I can't help wishing we had one of them. They're moth doing fine at what they do - but I envy the way Rotherham are able to muscle us off the ball and wonder how we've got to this point in the season without any real midfield physicality and, as shown by Evans' having to start when ill, any real midfield cover at all.
Sonny has a few efforts, Albie has a shot blocked, we win a few corners but we're more tapping the letterbox lightly and peering through the windows than battering down the doors. There's no clock at the ground, the scoreboard video thing has all the information in the world but not the one thing I actually want to know. It feels as if there's not very long left when a ball comes in from our left. It's more of a hopeful scuffed sand wedge than anything, but it comes through to Husband, who is caught... Yes! Penalty!
There's all sorts of chaos in the stands. The Rotherham stewards react to someone standing up to celebrate and putting a foot into the channel that runs down the front of the stand like North Korean soldiers protecting the DMZ from imperialist enemies. There's two fellas hauled out in full headlocks and it seems as if the kids around them are sent scattering. Sonny has the ball. He's takes that staged big breath that penalty takers take. He steps back. There's no fuss about this. He's got it. One step, two step and slam... bottom corner, Sonny fucking Carey!!! Yes!!! - The keeper is close, but the shot is crisp and low and we're back in this. C'mon Pool!!!
The game goes into a bit of chaos now. It could go either way. We're desperate for someone to be able to hold the ball. Bloxham has it a few times but can't tame it in the way we've become accustomed to him doing. They slam it forward. We try to play it back. Sonny is wound up by the goal and wins the ball, then loses it, then wins it then loses it and slips in CJ to hit a shot that is blocked over the top.
This could go either way - Tyrer makes a superb save - a quite brilliant full stretch wrong hand glance over the top where he seems to fly further and higher than seems physically possible from his starting position. C'mon Pool...
Then, calamity strikes. Beesley goes through the back of a Rotherham player. I know straight away. He shakes his head, he appeals with his spindly arms, he throws them to his head. He marches off. There's a tragicomic moment as the stewards sharply pull out the tunnel in perfect time with Beesley walking towards it, then folds it back again once he's gone. It's as if he's been hoovered up. Poor ol' Bees. It's not been his day for a long time and today was very possibly his last for us and to be vanished into a tube of red concertina plastic seems a bit of an ignominious end.
A draw wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. It's not ideal, but a hard fought point would just about keep us alive. I've barely got time to think this though as the ball is lumped in the box, flicked on, and seemingly runs forever across the face of goal, to be slammed home from close range. My response is to shout 'fuck off' as loudly as I can. Around me, most people do. The season is done, the hope is gone. It's a very division 3 way for it all to end. A stupid clumsy challenge, a long ball and goal announcement sponsored by Barry's Kitchen emporium of Kimberworth.
It was fun kidding ourselves but that's it. The whistle goes. It's over.
---
We didn't play very well today. The changes improved things, but I don't think we were anywhere near our best at any point. As I've already said, I think Rotherham looked well drilled and exactly the type of side we don't like and haven't liked for about 3 years. They weren't by any means 'really good' and I could pick out any number of players who were off their best or made mistakes - but I think that misses the point. The lads who started today have played really well of late - but you can't get out of the league with 11 or 12 players and that's more or less what we've been trying to do. As much as some of the players have responded really well to a sharp change of direction, it feels at times as if we've got half a squad. I've said it before, but I genuinely think that none of our 'first choice' are 'the problem' - the problem is that that's all we've got - and there's very limited ways to change it up, whether to account for fatigue, form or the style/strengths of the opponent.
The lack of depth and of a combative option in midfield has been an area of particular glaring weakness and to not trust either Onomah or Finnegan enough to give them a place on the bench when you know you've got ill players starting the game must surely signify that neither of them have a future because if not today, then when? Carey did ok playing deeper, but he's been our most productive forward player and whilst we managed some pressure second half, we really missed his ability to find space and pick up pieces when he was turned into the prompter. Bloxham and Beesley wasn't effective - Beesley got sent off for two really stupid things, neither of which were required (and for fuck's sake Jake, you didn't even score with your hand man!), but when he wasn't doing mad things he did actually give us a bit more of a focal point. Bloxham looked lost trying to play off him though and they never looked like a pairing. To be honest, we just didn't really click at all for most of the game.
I don't know if I ever really believed we were destined for it. I do know I fucking hate playing Rotherham. Tuesday was brilliant - but Saturday was the back down to earth with a bump, pummelled into submission by a brawny athletic set of bruisers fucking typical 'Pool, typical Rotherham performance. Near me, just before the end, a fella whose age I'd guess is around mid 70s says to no one in particular 'They always bloody lose, I don't know why I bother' and I wonder how long he's been saying that to himself.
It's a summer of change in the offing - back to the drawing board we go...
Onward
Their goal when it comes fulfills exactly the stereotype of a 'Rotherham goal' you'd come out with before kick off- A long throw, some outmuscling of defenders and a shot slammed home from close range. It's the kind of goal I've been watching Rotherham score against us since about 1994. In the middle of the sequence Tryer makes a really good save, hurling himself to block the first effort at the far post, only for the ball to drop perfectly for a second player to lash it into the net. It's a killer - on another day, the save is the catalyst for a change in the flow of the game, a moment of inspiration that jolts the rest awake - today it merely delays the pain by a second or so.
Bruce goes to the bench and sends on Tom Bloxham. At the time, I wonder if he's gone full blown Jose Mourinho and is hauling a flat Lee Evans off in disgrace, but when he reveals after the game that he's been sick in the build up to the game it makes more sense. Rotherham score again, Tyrer this time offering not heroics, but a clumsy fumble where he spoons the ball back to the striker but is saved by the flag. I decide I'd be happy to get in only 1-0 down, it's that sort of game.
---
This is the poorest we've played for some time. We've put to bed some curses recently, managing to win home games and Tuesday night games but the curse of the 'big away day following' seems to be looming over us still. Still, with Bruce in the dugout, we usually do something to address a poor showing and we're still in this. We've got goals in the team and Rotherham, whilst definitely on song aren't Honved of the 1950s...
---
We're totally rejigged after halftime. Both strikers, gone - instead we have Bloxham and Beesley upfront. Apter is gone too and CJ and Silvera play wide, with Sonny anchoring the midfield as he has done since Evans went off. Bruce can't be accused of dithering...
We're much improved. For the first 10 minutes of the half, CJ has a lot of joy, finding space on right and pinning their full back deeper than he has been. His most decisive intervention is quite unlikely though, Carey spots him in space and lofts a nice ball forward, CJ nods down (yes!) and Beesley takes the shot on the turn, connecting well enough but dragging it past the post. It's never that close but it's the most coherent bit of play we've managed and it lifts the crowd.
A minute or so later, a cross from the left, a crowd of players, contact and the ball just past the post - Beesley is booked for handball, as he chucks an arm up in an attempt to divert it in. I swear I'm not making this up for the sake of narrative - I think 'it would be the most Jake Beesley thing ever to finally get a chance at playing more than five minutes and then get sent off...'
Slivera looks a bit less lost than he's appeared in recent cameos and he does outstandingly well to get through a crowd of players and fizz a gorgeous ball over, Beesley jumps, turns his head to glance the ball home, but it evades him by the width of a rizla and the ball curls past the post, the cross itself was close enough and any touch would surely have been a goal.
We're better - but we're not at our best. We have more pressure, but after the first little flurry, we're not really able to dominate. Rotherham are, as I've already explained, rather rugged in their approach and the ref isn't especially strict on such play. Albie and Sonny aren't exactly the ideal pairing to go toe to toe with a set off nightclub bouncer style midfield players and I can't help wishing we had one of them. They're moth doing fine at what they do - but I envy the way Rotherham are able to muscle us off the ball and wonder how we've got to this point in the season without any real midfield physicality and, as shown by Evans' having to start when ill, any real midfield cover at all.
Sonny has a few efforts, Albie has a shot blocked, we win a few corners but we're more tapping the letterbox lightly and peering through the windows than battering down the doors. There's no clock at the ground, the scoreboard video thing has all the information in the world but not the one thing I actually want to know. It feels as if there's not very long left when a ball comes in from our left. It's more of a hopeful scuffed sand wedge than anything, but it comes through to Husband, who is caught... Yes! Penalty!
There's all sorts of chaos in the stands. The Rotherham stewards react to someone standing up to celebrate and putting a foot into the channel that runs down the front of the stand like North Korean soldiers protecting the DMZ from imperialist enemies. There's two fellas hauled out in full headlocks and it seems as if the kids around them are sent scattering. Sonny has the ball. He's takes that staged big breath that penalty takers take. He steps back. There's no fuss about this. He's got it. One step, two step and slam... bottom corner, Sonny fucking Carey!!! Yes!!! - The keeper is close, but the shot is crisp and low and we're back in this. C'mon Pool!!!
The game goes into a bit of chaos now. It could go either way. We're desperate for someone to be able to hold the ball. Bloxham has it a few times but can't tame it in the way we've become accustomed to him doing. They slam it forward. We try to play it back. Sonny is wound up by the goal and wins the ball, then loses it, then wins it then loses it and slips in CJ to hit a shot that is blocked over the top.
This could go either way - Tyrer makes a superb save - a quite brilliant full stretch wrong hand glance over the top where he seems to fly further and higher than seems physically possible from his starting position. C'mon Pool...
Then, calamity strikes. Beesley goes through the back of a Rotherham player. I know straight away. He shakes his head, he appeals with his spindly arms, he throws them to his head. He marches off. There's a tragicomic moment as the stewards sharply pull out the tunnel in perfect time with Beesley walking towards it, then folds it back again once he's gone. It's as if he's been hoovered up. Poor ol' Bees. It's not been his day for a long time and today was very possibly his last for us and to be vanished into a tube of red concertina plastic seems a bit of an ignominious end.
A draw wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. It's not ideal, but a hard fought point would just about keep us alive. I've barely got time to think this though as the ball is lumped in the box, flicked on, and seemingly runs forever across the face of goal, to be slammed home from close range. My response is to shout 'fuck off' as loudly as I can. Around me, most people do. The season is done, the hope is gone. It's a very division 3 way for it all to end. A stupid clumsy challenge, a long ball and goal announcement sponsored by Barry's Kitchen emporium of Kimberworth.
It was fun kidding ourselves but that's it. The whistle goes. It's over.
---
We didn't play very well today. The changes improved things, but I don't think we were anywhere near our best at any point. As I've already said, I think Rotherham looked well drilled and exactly the type of side we don't like and haven't liked for about 3 years. They weren't by any means 'really good' and I could pick out any number of players who were off their best or made mistakes - but I think that misses the point. The lads who started today have played really well of late - but you can't get out of the league with 11 or 12 players and that's more or less what we've been trying to do. As much as some of the players have responded really well to a sharp change of direction, it feels at times as if we've got half a squad. I've said it before, but I genuinely think that none of our 'first choice' are 'the problem' - the problem is that that's all we've got - and there's very limited ways to change it up, whether to account for fatigue, form or the style/strengths of the opponent.
The lack of depth and of a combative option in midfield has been an area of particular glaring weakness and to not trust either Onomah or Finnegan enough to give them a place on the bench when you know you've got ill players starting the game must surely signify that neither of them have a future because if not today, then when? Carey did ok playing deeper, but he's been our most productive forward player and whilst we managed some pressure second half, we really missed his ability to find space and pick up pieces when he was turned into the prompter. Bloxham and Beesley wasn't effective - Beesley got sent off for two really stupid things, neither of which were required (and for fuck's sake Jake, you didn't even score with your hand man!), but when he wasn't doing mad things he did actually give us a bit more of a focal point. Bloxham looked lost trying to play off him though and they never looked like a pairing. To be honest, we just didn't really click at all for most of the game.
I don't know if I ever really believed we were destined for it. I do know I fucking hate playing Rotherham. Tuesday was brilliant - but Saturday was the back down to earth with a bump, pummelled into submission by a brawny athletic set of bruisers fucking typical 'Pool, typical Rotherham performance. Near me, just before the end, a fella whose age I'd guess is around mid 70s says to no one in particular 'They always bloody lose, I don't know why I bother' and I wonder how long he's been saying that to himself.
It's a summer of change in the offing - back to the drawing board we go...
Onward
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I'm a Millers fan & thought your review was exceptional. We nicked it right at the end but there wasn't much to choose between the teams. You may have noticed quite a few smiles on Rotherham fans faces, the result had little to do with it, more the fact that our club has finally & forever rid ourselves of Fatman & Bobbin (Evans & Raynor) who should never be let anywhere near an EFL club again.
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