STANDING EIGHT COUNT

The gloom that envelopes Oakwell tightened it's death grip yesterday afternoon, as the reds yet again were masters of their own demise. It's some 24 hours later and whilst my anger and frustration have somewhat dissipated, my acceptance that this season is the one where we finally wave the second tier goodbye is difficult to cope with. I've never given up on my club. We've stared relegation in the face so many times, but never have I written us off until it's been mathematically impossible to survive. That's happened just twice in my 26 years supporting BFC. Both World Cup years, by the way. But I'm convinced we're going down this time. There are ten games left, that's 30 points to play for. We're only three points from safety. But I've watched us regularly enough this season to know there's probably more chance of me winning the lottery without buying a ticket than "this group of players" stringing a number of victories together between now and May.. 

I'm not going to discuss the match itself in any great detail. We huffed, we puffed. There was effort on show for the most part. But little in the way of quality. The opposition played the better football and forced Luke Steele into a number of decent saves, as well as smacking the crossbar late on through the best player on the pitch in (former Danny Wilson player) Matt Ritchie. 

They played some neat stuff, and I think they probably deserved to take the three points back down south with them. We had our own chances though. In the first half, a ball dropped perfectly on the edge of the box for Martin Woods to slot into the unguarded net, but he somehow contrived to miss it which sums up his short time at the club thus far. Then in the second half, the recalled Marcus Pedersen twice broke through on goal only to miss the target on both occasions when testing the keeper looked easier. The one he crashed into the Ponty End was the clearer chance. 

But overall, it was a dire performance from the reds. The likes of Tom Kennedy and Stephen Dawson in particular continue to look woefully out of their depth. The former must be the easiest player to defend against. He refuses to try and beat his man. His floated, aimless balls down the left flank will give me nightmares for years. Then there are his 50 yard backpasses to Steele. New captain, Dawson, tries his damnedest for the most part, but his actual abilities are few and far between. He treats the ball like it's diseased. One of the worst passers of a football I've ever seen. The aforementioned Woods has added nothing to the side since he joined and yesterday he was at his very worst. Failing to pass when he ought to have; winning a good challenge only to then find an opponent with a square ball; losing every aerial challenge; giving me the biggest laugh of the day when he received Dale Jennings' short corner and then put his first time cross into the 'pyro' section of the Ponty End. Others weren't much better. But I'll mention just Tomasz Cywka of the rest. He came on a substitute at half time and played the 'invisible man' role to perfection. I like the lad, feel he's one of our few technicians. But he did himself no favours yesterday once on. I can only remember him finding the wall with a free kick. Other than that, he may as well have sat 50 yards behind him, next to me and my mate Roy. There were plenty of spare seats.. 

Yorkshire's finest hostelry

The pre-match drinks in the No7 went down nicely, as always. I tried a new pint of lager, recommended by a 'football friend' who then told me about his wheat allergy, whilst drinking lager.. It was good to see/speak to him, it's probably the most enjoyable part of a matchday, the meeting up with friends bit. Red Roy was his usual jolly self, and the token female member of our cliqué was great company once again. A few faces were missing though. Their non-appearance has been noted. One bloke in particular who owes me a pint. There was a decent atmosphere in there though, you wouldn't think we supported the worst club in the second tier. 

Enjoyed it so much in fact, that I arrived a minute or so late at Oakwell, which wouldn't normally bother me. But with the club putting a ticket promotion on for this game (huge success, by the way..) I was greatly appreciative that a lad I only know through twitter had got me a ticket for the West Stand at half price. But me getting there late meant he was stood like a wally waiting for me. But fair play to him for doing so. Another example of why I love my club and more pertinently it's supporters. Fantastic gesture from him, and if he's reading this then once again, Shane, nice one. 

Rain forced us into the upper tier

I was more angry at the match yesterday than I have been all season. I can't explain why. You'd think I'd be used to watching inept footballers by now. I was told off by an elderly gent for shouting "f***** w*** Barnsley!" Feel a bit disappointed in myself for that. Don't regret the point I was making, but regret that I offended the old bloke. Got a polite ticking off from a very nice female steward for it. Late in the game I attempted a similar shout but Roy literally put his hand over my mouth and stopped me. He describes himself as my carer. He probably is. 

I also bought my first pie from Oakwell in years. Best part of £4 it cost me. It wasn't what I wanted. But with it being half time and six people ahead of us in the queue, it's hardly surprising that they had nothing but balti pies by that stage. Useless doesn't even cut it. First time in years, last time forever. I work in food production these days, actually involved in checking the quality of pies. That one was poor. I'd have binned it had I been working. As it was, I was hungry and I wasn't binning a £4 pie, no matter how disgusting. I am from Tarn, after all.. 

As another sign of my tightness, I stayed til the bitter end yesterday. Unlike the old dear we saw as we made our way back into town after the game. She was talking about how bad Wilson has been, but then described our "clean sheet" and point as a positive. Roy told her we'd lost. Her face dropped. Well, dropped further. She was probably in her late 70's to be fair. Bet she's seen some right gash down the years. 

Red Roy doesn't do gloomy

If we were a boxer, we'd be Audley Harrison. Funnily enough, Big John (Jean-Yves M'Voto) looks like a heavyweight pugilist. Unfunnily enough though, he's about as hard as 'Spent Force' Audley. He had to come on yesterday, and when Bournemouth's 94th minute corner was put into the danger area, Big John failed to stop his man, and after a decent Steele save, the ball dropped kindly for the visitors and Steve Cook saw the ball over the line to send the 289 Cherries supporters into raptures, as they completed a 1-0 double over us which left even the most optimistic of reds fans struggling to see a way back for us in this, the season from hell. 


So where do we go from here. Well, Reading on Tuesday, as it goes. But seriously, where indeed? I honestly have zero faith in this squad now. The latest injury to Peter Ramage doesn't help. But the club today confirmed that Danny had appointed a new assistant. Former Paul Jewell number two, Chris Hutchings has arrived, and I suppose we have to hope he can help Danny see things that perhaps he's overlooked. 
I'm a huge fan of Wilson's, for obvious reasons. The last seven days' events have given me hope for next season at least, in terms of him still being our manager come our first game in League One. But whilst I'm behind him fully, and I don't blame him for the mess he inherited, I have to be honest and admit that his return has disappointed me a fair bit. His recruits have been poor in the main. His refusal to select certain players, and refusal to drop certain others is very reminiscent of his predecessors. Even his latest interview took some swallowing. He must have watched a different game to the one played at Oakwell yesterday. But I want him to remain in charge, in the long term. We have to stick with a manager at some point. These short term appointments have got us nowhere, and despite this not so great beginning to his second coming, you'd be hard pressed trying to find a better candidate out there, a manager with vast experience of the division we look to be heading for. So he'll hopefully be here to get on with the big Summer rebuild, no matter the division next season. It's then that I'll feel better able to judge him as our manager. For now, he's merely a firefighter, engulfed in flames. Let's hope Hutchings can help extinguish a few, and we can at least go down fighting. 

We're not down yet. It feels like it, and I reckon we will be confirmed as relegated in the next few weeks. But as it stands, we've just been hit with another flush right, and scrambled to our unsteady feet. We're getting a standing eight count. Are we about to be knocked out? Or are we about to turn the fight on it's head? 


Up The Tarn! 

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