CCFC 2 v 1 WATFORD

CCFC V WATFORD

THE PREAMBLE RAMBLE

So, as we prepare to entertain the Hornets we’re five homes games in and on the back of a record-equalling run of victories the controversy over the rebranding has been forgotten. We’re all happy playing in red (in fact we’re yet to drop a point so it must be a lucky colour) and promoting our Malaysian cousins. Yes? Well, actually, no. Now that the dust has settled and the close season row can be placed in context, any relief and even gratitude that our owners have not walked away (with anything other than our heritage) has dissipated and been replaced with heartfelt and justified indignation. For me the enormity of the Asian felony finally smacked my outraged gob when after 10 minutes of the Birmingham game it dawned on me that I was instinctively following the fortunes of the team playing in blue, or as we must now refer to them, the ‘opposition’. It’s just WRONG!

Perhaps we can take some comfort in the realisation that we are not alone in our new status as a franchised cash cow, to be milked, fattened up and sent to market for corporate slaughter. As we, the compliant bashful blushing milk-maids sit astride our 3-legged stools and carry out our master’s bidding squeezing the engorged teet of avarice and organised greed we may baulk at displaying ‘Malaysia’ on our red breasts (covering up the underlying malaise here) but imagine how the Geordies must feel at the St James Park Sports Direct Asian Sweatshop Exploitation Arena. The few that don’t go through the winter months baring their pot-bellies must be flabby-gasted  witnessing  the name of institutionalised pay-day loan sharks ‘Wonga’ emblazoned on the thieving Magpies’ chests.

There can be no greater indictment of our inglorious Con-Dem Nation with its we’re-all-in-this-together Big Society guff than the hypocrisy of squillionaire footballers (the beneficiaries of a recent tax cut remember) promoting the virtues of 4,214% APR legalised extortion.

A recent BBC Sport Price of Football survey actually reveals that a visit to Newcastle is the cheapest day out in the Premier League at £23 for a ticket, programme, cup of tea and obligatory pie. For a family of four that’s around £100 which is comparatively good value. But how’s a hard-pressed Geordie going to pay for his day out? ‘Lose your shirt with wonga.com’

Martin Lewis, the moneysavingexpert has calculated that borrowing £100 from Wonga would (if the rules allowed) after 7 years, assuming no repayments make you liable for £23.5 trillion. Which is greater than the U.S. national debt!  Similarly, my research reveals that Wonga could fund the complete acquisition of the Magpies from that one family’s day out after approx 3 ½ years.

“And how the poverty of these unfortunates, among whom even thieves find nothing to steal, is exploited by the property-holding class in lawful ways.” – Frederick Engels, ‘The Condition of the Working Class in England’.

And so to tonight’s opposition. Watford, managed by all round nice guy (as opposed to goodfella) Gianfranco Zola, the Michael Palin of Italian football, and owned by the Pozzo Family who do sound like Goodfellas and also own Udinese, have a cosmopolitan squad that includes assorted Brazilians, Ghanains, Swiss, Swedes, Jamaicans, Cameroons, Czechs, Scots, Irish, Welsh, the occasional English player and no fewer than ten Udinese loanees. As well as two from Grenada in Spain the Pozzo family’s other club. They currently languish in 13^th, some eleven places below the mighty Bluebirds. Once they all master a common language - Italian, English, Esperanto or Galactic Basic perhaps - they may start to close the Watford gap.

The evening began with a minute’s silence in recognition of the dire events in Leckwith and Ely last Friday. It was observed with absolute respect and total silence.

Malky made some necessary changes following the 1-3 reversal against Forest on Saturday. At the back Turner was brought in to partner Hudson with Connolly moving to right back and McNaughton relegated to the bench. Bellamy returned from injury and Noone was brought back, replacing Conway.

We made a promising start with lots of good movement early on. Noone in particular was running spaghetti hoops around former Italian international full back Vito Antipasti who eventually lost patience and was the first to go into the Maitre D’s book. Although we were dominating we were struggling to break down a very well organised Watford defence marshalled by veteran centre back One Size (Fitz Hall).

Watford looked dangerous on the break and looked capable of getting the better of Hudson & Turner. Both sides were keeping the ball well without really threatening when after 27 minutes from a poorly defended near post corner Marshall was left isolated saving well but the ball fell at the feet of Tony Soprano who pulled the trigger and fired into the back of the net from 5 yards out. 0-1.

City pushed forward but despite showing plenty of enterprise with Noone and Smith constantly swapping wings and Whittingham getting into advanced positions, lots of neat inter-play rarely threatened to produce the equaliser. Bellamy went down heavily in the box, his face contorting with pain as he clutched his dodgy knees but he managed to see the half out. It was no surprise however when he didn’t reappear for the second 45.

At half time Ali announced the passing of Charlie Rutter who played through the 1950’s and was a member of the team that won promotion to Division One in 1959, the last season to began with 5 straight home wins. On retirement he opened a pet shop in the Central Market which he ran for 45 years. I wonder what retirement plans today’s pros have. The Craig Bellamy Second Hand Vinyl Exchange anyone...?

The second half continued where the first left off - a lively and evenly-balanced encounter with no real hints as to the eventual outcome. On the hour one fairly innocuous exchange between Noone and the Hornetto’s full back Luca Tagliatelle concluded with the Watford man being shown a straight red for following his manager Zola’s instructions ‘ You gotta get close like this and, bada-bing!’

In truth, Noone wasn’t too bothered by the challenge which happened on the touchline right in front of us, until the Linesman flagged. Then as the Ref walked up Noone, acting like a little schoolboy snitch pointed to his chin and looked up him as if to say ‘Sir, Sir, the big boy hit me Sir!’ It was risible. Shameful. But it was to turn the game in our favour.

On 70 minutes we were awarded a penalty – a hand-to-ball?/ ball-to-hand? close call – which Whitts dispatched past former Gooner Almunia. 1-1. Suddenly everything was going our way. And then some. Within 5 minutes the opposition were down to nine men after young Sonny Corleone petulantly kicked the ball away for a second yellow and the Ref made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

We were now totally dominant and but for some woeful final balls into the box should have had the game sewn up long before the injury time winner. Gunnarsson, who had replaced the tireless but hamstrung Smith met a Taylor-made cross head on to win the game right at the death.

Up in the grandstand Vincent Tan, his party and his special guest, announced as the Sultan of somewhere, or something – it wasn’t made clear (but apparently he ‘don’t give a damn about any trumpet-playing band’) danced with delight.

Pitch-side the mood around the opposition dug-out was dark with Zola heard to be muttering ‘Look how they massacred my boys, look how they massacred my boys...’ and wondering how he was going to break the news to his bosses because ‘Mr Pozzo is a man who insists on hearing bad news immediately’.

Six straight home wins is an impressive start to the season. But records are made to be broken. Let’s hope this one only lasts as long as Saturday when we welcome free-scoring Burnley.