Here we go again. I'm blinking back a hangover. The pain is gathered around my eyes and a plan to soften the edges with gentle walk and several recuperative pit stops on the way from North Station is foiled by the trains being busses that take twice as long and me thinking 'fuck that, I'll drive'
So I do. It's a gusty day that already has changed its mind several times. From blue, to grey, to black angry sideways rain - to be honest, I don't care what the weather does as long as we win. It could rain frogs for weeks and I'd take that with pleasure if it meant 3 points.
Monday was a body blow. The relief of the Exeter victory wiped away, the anxiety of relegation back with a vengeance and the shortcomings of this season all too familiar. I'm not going to list them, I've said the same thing so, so many times. Today is a new day. Let's hope the attacking force that showed up in the first half against Exeter is present today. Maybe I'll pray for Bowler's hamstring.
We need this...
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Bloxham scraps and battles and a corner is his reward. C'mon Pool. I'm watching Horsfall and Jimmy because who else is going to do anything at a corner? A glance back to Brown, then back to the danger men who split and run in different directions but what's the point because Brown has scuffed the corner, absolute pile of shite, disgraceful, you get fucking paid for this and you can't even beat the first man... but there is Dale Taylor, darting, on to it, facing goal and a lovely calm, simple as you like finish and I realise I've read that moment all wrong and I know nothing about football at all and that doesn't matter because we're 1-0 up, already!
That's done us all the world of good. Before the game, the ground felt nervy - but now it's exploded and we're set piece kings of the world.
I hope that we don't sit back now - and we don't sit back. Peterborough are distinctly unnerved by us and we look, well, I have to say it... good. I've felt that so few times this season - we've battled quite well of late and we've had a few spells in games - but we've rarely controlled a game like this - the press from the front is very good - Taylor is positively Jerry-esque as he leads the charge, Bloxham is liberated by having a partner who wants to do this and this lets him hunt wide and find space in general, Karoy is on fire, charging at anyone Peterborough player who dares to touch the ball and Brown very effective in tidying up behind him. Anything that gets through that and the defence snap into it and we're off again...
We absolutely roast them alive for a while. Bloxham continues to win corners and get shots in. We're playing very high and Walters ends up basically on the right wing. A ball across the box, another ball across the box and a deflection and a great save by the Posh keeper, a scream for a penalty, a proper one, everyone in unison on and off the pitch. I swear I hear it slap the hand of the defender but the ref and the impassive linesman are deaf to the imploring voices and the outstretched arms.
It goes on, we are going to score again, we must score again, it's a sheer weight of numbers thing, it's like watching a training exercise, it's as if Peterborough are drilled not to go over the halfway line and just let us come again and again, the Horse gets his head to some corners, one and two are headed back but nothing comes of them but three is down, powerful and just past the far post. CJ nutmegs his man and races away... Ole! Honeyman goes for it from the edge of the box and his low shot seems to be tipped wide, but the ref gives a goal kick.
We need another goal. We deserve another goal.
What happens next is so painfully obvious to any of us... I'm watching us knock it about at the back. We're so in control of this game it's like we're just having a little breather and my attention wanders. A shocked gasp runs through the crowd, I refocus on the pitch. Peterborough now have the ball and they're charging at the heart of our box and they're letting fly with an absolute thunderbolt, it's really quite a finish, one of those that seems to sense the hand of the keeper and swerve away from it... I have to ask what happened - how we went from being comfortable in possession to picking the ball out of the net in the moment I looked away - CJ is the answer. Not so ole!
We need to get back on this and after a lull, we do. The Horse meets another in the box, Husband hits a far post effort on the turn, a goal for the ages if it comes off, but he doesn't catch it cleanly and the keeper falls gratefully on it.
Then another twist in the tale as Honeyman gets caught on the ball and goes down, Posh go up the middle and CJ redeems himself with a good bit of defensive work but Honeyman is done for. Off he limps and on comes Clarkson. It's obviously a blow to lose your captain and grim for him personally, but I do wonder if, given we've got so much control of the midfield, Clarkson's guile and technical quality might actually be exactly what we need in the moment.
We win the ball back again, it's poked forward to Clarkson, the chip is on, their keeper is miles off his line, Clarkson steadies himself and then doesn't shoot, it's agonising as it seems so the obvious option, maybe it won't sit, maybe he's not quite got to the pace of the game and instead, he slides in Bloxham who just doesn't quite have the space to make anything of it, the keeper sliding out rushing him into a low shot that is smothered.
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The fear is we've blown a chance to be comfortable. I can't remember enjoying us play this much this season, but we're drawing and there are no points for style. The midfield has been excellent, Bloxham has marauded - but we're not winning...
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We come out in the same fashion. The fear that we'd fail to turn the screw is swiftly alleviated as first Karoy and then Clarkson test the keeper... then, CJ bursts forward, he's foiled, but the ball bounces out to Husband who takes one look and strikes a lovely pass into space, Bloxham is there, it's perfect for him, he can cut in, off a right hand channel and he holds it, holds it and at exactly the right moment slides it between the keepers legs and into the net. The roof comes off and Bloxham basks in the moment...
We keep playing, Clarkson and CJ have efforts, the place is absolutely rocking and then, suddenly the noise, so loud seconds before is gone, it's like someone has detuned an AM radio, where moments before there was loud music, there is only the hissing static of concern. It has become quickly evident that someone has been taken ill, it's an awful thing and all that can be said is to say that everyone in the ground seems to grasp the weight of the moment and to describe any more would be ghoulish
We restart. It's a strange feeling. I wonder to myself if it's selfish to even think about football now. Football is relentless though, it just keeps going. The game takes a few minutes to shake off the delay, but quickly, Pool assert themselves again, Taylor first having an effort saved and then, CJ's redemption arc is complete as he robs a Posh player, drives forward, exchanges passes with Taylor, is into the box, and tucks back a simple, but perfect return pass to the striker, who again, finishes with a calm accuracy that speaks volumes of the quality he's shown during the game, he finds space, he has time, he's precise in what he does.
That, must, surely, be that.
This is Blackpool though and of course it isn't.
Almost immediately, Husband gets caught out by a ball forward, an awkward attempt at clearing it or controlling it isn't either and is instead a perfect through ball. Horsfall is wrong side and is never going to make it back, so he takes the legs of the Posh defender. Instinctively, I think 'that's a red' and it is. Maybe there's cover, but you've be surprised if the Posh player didn't get a shot off without Horsfall's intervention is my take. It's a potential disaster - we've had such control that I'm not sure we actually needed to worry unduly about conceding the goal because we've looked like we could score 5 or 6 ourselves - but with 10 men, that control will be gone...
My worries don't materialise - we withdraw Taylor to deserved rapturous applause and we regroup. The free kick comes to nothing and neither does anything else. There's a couple of routine saves from BPF, a couple of horrible efforts from Posh where they might have done better - at some point (may have been before the red, I'm not sure) BPF makes a good low stop from a close range effort but overall we keep them at bay, more than anything, we frustrate them and long before the whistle actually goes, it's clear that they don't believe they're going to score. We even manage a few breaks, the tireless Anderson charging up the pitch, CJ setting Bloxham away with a very clever pass into space before he himself ends up up front. We even have a spell of just knocking it around, almost like a good football team...
When the final whistle goes, the relief is sheer but for once this year, the appreciation of the performance as well as the outcome is there. It's a deserved victory, not simply because we've played well, but because we've shrugged off setbacks and played well in different ways.
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It's been a great game. I'm not getting carried away, because Peterborough have defended like we've defended for large parts of the season and there's more teams that play like Stevenage than play like Peterborough - but at the same time, it's been brilliant to see us play in practice something like the rhetoric has spoken of - we were on the front foot, we were brave, we attacked in a pack and we had relationships across the pitch - something we've struggled with so much. Anderson and Brown held and went impeccably, they were like pistons in a machine, Clarkson in with those two grafting for him looked real quality, one moment where he shimmied, checked his run, stepped sideways and then held a pass, before releasing the absolutely perfectly weighted ball was something from a beautiful dream, he's got magic in his boots. Walters was strong and solid, Bloxham as good as he's been in a 'Pool shirt and Taylor the quality up front that we hoped he'd be in summer. There wasn't a poor performance from anyone.
We're nearly there - but we're not there yet... The last month has been much better, we've fought, the quality of our play has gradually improved too. There's still so many questions - but today did show something that can give us hope in the performances of some of our players and our ability to use them to their strengths.
Knowing how the incident in the North West corner appears to have turned out casts a shadow over it all though. A football crowd is many things and many different people, with many different backgrounds and beliefs but football is one of the few things that binds people in collective experience. It's a tragic afternoon and the tragedy of others always speaks of our shared mortality.
Football is escape, it's where we forget and where we dream. It's the joy of seeing players live what we can't, it's the bond of being in a crowd, it's the ludicrous meaning in a life that often feels empty or routine. It's what we look forward to in the midst of toil and it's the collective madness we all indulge in, to walk into the stadium and immerse ourselves in whatever happens, cocooned, cut off from outside, knowing that we'll walk out again, blinking back into the real world, full of joy, frustration or whatever. It's made what it is by all of us, by everyone.
Every Blackpool fan, every football fan can only offer condolences, thoughts and sadness.
RIP Seasider.
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