CCFC 1 v 0 MILLWALL

CCFC v MILLWALL

Apparently no-one likes Millwall. I can't think why.

Some Dates Dear To The Heart of Every Millwall Fan:

6 November 1965 Millwall beat Brentford 2–1 away at Griffin Park and during the game a hand grenade is thrown onto the pitch from the Millwall end. Brentford's goalkeeper Chic Brodie picks it up, inspects it and casually throws it into his goal.

26 March 1966 During a match with QPR a coin strikes a Millwall player. The stadium announcer warns that the game will be abandoned if there are any more disturbances. As Millwall are losing 6-1 at the time their fans invade the pitch.

28 April 1968 Enoch Powell stops by Billingsgate Fish Market for a pot of jellied eels on his way to make his infamous 'Rivers of Blood' speech.

13 March 1985 Millwall lose to Luton Town in the 6th Round of the FA Cup in front of an unprecedented 20,000 fans. Unfortunately the bulk of the crowd is made up of assorted members of the Millwall Bushwhackers, Luton MIGs, Chelsea Headhunters and the West Ham Inter City Firm. Mayhem ensues. In the subsequent Report the F.A. describes the club as 'synonymous with everything that is bad in football and society'. Harsh but fair.

Some Dates Dear To The Heart of Every Other Fan:

19 April 1943 The Den takes a direct hit in The Blitz (giving rise to the song 'Nice One Heinrich, Nice One Son...') causing extensive damage put at almost three guineas.

May 1971 Millwall miss out on promotion to the old Division One by one point. To add to the general hilarity a radio report towards the end of the last game of the season mistakenly announces that their nearest rivals have lost, causing scenes of wild premature celebrations.

11 March 1978 An incensed Bobby Robson, commonly accepted as The Nicest Man in Football and the nation's favourite uncle calls on the police to 'turn the flamethrowers on' rioting Millwall fans during a 6-1 FA Cup defeat against his Ipswich team.

September 2010 During a game between Millwall and Huddersfield Town, a Terriers fan throws a coin at a linesman. Millwall fans intervene and hand the culprit over to the police. The News of the World however reports the incident as "Millwall Thugs Deck Linesman With Concrete". Fair enough.

Not many travelling fans today as the game clashed with the Burberry's Christmas Sale and Nick Griffin's annual White Goods Bring & Buy jamboree. Fewer than 500 geezers braved the elements to join the 24,000 strong Bluebird contingent.

Malky wisely decided to stick with the same eleven that finished the Palace game which meant a first start of the season for Gestede, with Gunarsson & McNaughton deservedly keeping their places. The only complaint from recent games has been that we have taken too long to settle, allowing the opposition to take early control. Malky has accepted this in recent interviews and it was reassuring to witness the team taking the game to the opposition from the start. Noone in particular was looking very lively, making the most of some excellent service from midfield. After 8 minutes he completely wrong-footed the Millwall left-back, twisting and turning and sending a perfectly paced ball into the path of Gestede who stroked the ball past ex-Bluebird David Forde. 1-0.

For a while we looked in total control of the game to the extent that our guest from the Orient (somewhere east of Leyton) commented that it looked like an early rounds FA Cup mismatch. We were impressive going forward, pushing the ball out wide and with Whittingham controlling the midfield we were creating plenty of openings. We were also fully committed to chasing down any Millwall possession and were first to any loose ball. Gunnarsson in particular played as if willing to die for the cause, his exuberance occasionally getting the better of him; one challenge might have seen him red-carded for a Warburton-like spear tackle but Premier League Ref Halsey took a charitable view. The opposition exacted revenge soon after, taking the opportunity to clean their studs on his midriff. He was replaced by Mutch just before half-time.

On the down side, the opposition did open up our back four too easily and created enough chances to get back into the game. But for some excellent positioning from Marshall they may well have levelled the game before half time.

Within a minute of the restart Bellamy, playing his third game in a week and giving no concession to his notoriously temperamental knees, charged down the wing and pulled back to Mutch whose strike was blocked by a frantic defensive lunge. The move deserved more and would have settled any lingering doubts about the outcome.

As the game wore on, apart from an ill-judged lob from Bellamy when he had only the keeper to beat, we didn't create much and allowed Millwall to dictate play for long stretches. We were guilty of losing possession far too easily as anxiety kicked in. Fortunately Millwall failed to capitalise on their territorial advantage and were guilty of some woeful finishing.

A few substitutions in the final quarter didn't help as Noone left the field to be replaced by Cowie in an attempt to shore up the midfield and Helguson came on for Gestede. The ploy was basically to kill the game off by retaining possession and concede any notion of increasing our advantage. It led to a muted conclusion to a game that held great early promise but was ultimately, in footie parlance pretty much an 'ugly' win. Looking at the big picture, if every win from now till the end of the season is ugly and nobody likes us we won't care.

We can bid a fond farewell to 2012, look forward to the New Year with renewed optimism and turn our backs on the likes of Millwall - an old acquaintance to be forgot and never brought to mind.

CCFC 2 v 1 PALACE

CCFC v PALACE

‘Woa-ohh we’re halfway there, Woa-ohh living on a prayer...’ - Bon Jovi

As the English cricket team was closing in on an historic series win against India recently, the Barmy Army’s trumpeter went through his entire repertoire, some obvious (Jerusalem, The Great Escape, The Italian Job) some less so. Mr Bongoivi and his band of luxuriantly coiffured pompous rockers are an unlikely source of inspiration but it seemed to do the trick. In fact, statistically, when applied to our current position the tiresome troubadours’ top tune is reassuringly prescient.

After 23 games, exactly ‘halfway there’, we have amassed 47 points. This compares favourably with an average return of 38.25 points at this stage over the last four anti- climactic seasons.

We are currently averaging 2.04 points per game. In the last four seasons the team finishing second in the table has averaged 1.87 points, so at our current rate of return we will comfortably secure an automatic promotion spot. If we can match our current points total in the second half of the season we will have a 75% chance of going up as champions, as only Newcastle with 102 points have scored more than our current projected rate. If you take the average points total for the champions of 92.25 points our chances increase to 100%. Q.E.D.

‘If you need statistics to prove it, it isn't true’.  

Best to keep your prayer mats handy just in case.

A big welcome today to the heir to the Thomas throne of perpetual sporting regret on his return from the Middle Kingdom, with a temporary pass to the Land of his Fathers, replete with his little red book and a golden ticket to the Field of Dreams. It was an inauspicious return as, clad in his Roger Gibbins era 1980’s retro-shirt, he wandered up the wrong side of Sloper Road, rapped on the door of number 28 Scoular’s Reach and demanded to take his seat in row L, Block B.

Securing a row of three consecutive seats at the CCS for the sell-out fixture meant that we’d had to scratch around to find a less popular part of the Ninian Stand, but the compensation for giving up my normal seat was that we were surely guaranteed protection from the less than festive weather. Weren’t we?

Prior to the development of the Cardiff City Stadium, the initials ‘CCS’ meant an obscure early 70’s band led by the ‘Godfather of British Blues’ Alexis Korner whose biggest hit was ‘Tap Turns On the Water’. Clearly somebody had left the great celestial tap on full above the CCS as the swirling winds drove the Boxing Day deluge right up to Row Z and beyond. Our ‘Cardiff City Ponchos’ hastily acquired for £1.50 (bargain!) helped but it was with dampened spirits that we eased ourselves into our soggy seats for the most important fixture of the season to date.

A new record crowd of over 26,000, narrowly beating the record set at the last home fixture, welcomed the teams who have occupied top spot between them for most of the season. Palace, this year’s surprise package, began the game in 3^rd place but having drawn their last three games, and given away the lead in each of them. They were first out of the blocks and immediately settled into the game, driven on by a five man midfield that included Premier League – bound wunderkind Wilfred Zaha.

In his last post-match interview a rueful Palace manager Ian Holloway had complained that they had given away a goal that was ‘as soft as a marshmallow being toasted on an open fire at Christmas’. Within 3 minutes we had gifted Palace a goal of equivalent ineptitude as a corner was pulled back to a completely unmarked Jedinak who side-footed the ball past a too easily duped defence.

For the next twenty minutes Palace attacked relentlessly and but for a bit of good fortune (the post proving an effective last line of defence) lack of composure (20 goal striker Murray losing control of the ball with only Marshall to beat) and some excellent work from our ever-reliable keeper, we might have struggled to get back into the game. Slowly however, we emerged from our torpor with Bellamy in particular looking sharp, though lacking the killer instinct in front of goal. Just as the fourth official was preparing his board for those all important Pro Supplements-sponsored extra minutes, Bellamy cut back a short Conway free kick into the path of the rampaging Noone who fairly thrashed the ball into the top of the net for the vital equaliser. 1-1 at half time and relief all round after a difficult first forty five.

Malky replaced the ineffective Mutch with Gunarsson at half time and the midfield was transformed. Mutch and Whittingham in midfield just doesn’t work for me - the game was calling out for a serious beef-up, and the no-nonsense Icelandic warrior was just the man the occasion required. His fellow countryman Helguson was not faring so well up front and was replaced on the hour by Gestede who was to prove more effective against a well organised Palace defence which included former Ninian Park favourite Gabbidon, making his full debut.

Bellamy was now excelling as an old-fashioned inside forward, feeding off flick-ons, playing off the shoulder of the final defender and timing his breaks to perfection, running free on a couple of occasions but let down by some questionable calls from the linesman below us and frustrated by the excellent Speroni in the Palace goal.

After a period of sustained pressure, on 75 minutes a perfect, pacy, Bellamy corner was met by Gunarsson who headed into the roof of the net to give the Bluebirds a well deserved lead. Soon afterwards, a trademark Whittingham free kick from 25 yards out was palmed onto the bar by the flying Argentine keeper, a superb save completely missed by ref who awarded a goal kick! This was but the most glaring example of incompetence by our Man in Black, the man-in-the-middle of a total nightmare who was at least consistent in that he got all the contentious decisions wrong and shared his cack-handedness generously between the teams.

Despite a generous 4 minutes of Pro Supplements supplemented time, we saw out the dying moments with some ease to earn a well-merited and potentially significant victory against a serious contender.

Although there was some debate as we headed for the exit as to whether this was ‘literally’ a 6-pointer (the family pedants won the day by pointing out that although we had gained 3 points, the opposition had not actually been deducted 3 for losing) the City fans were literally smiling from ear to ear, as they literally walked on air back down Ninian Way, secure in the knowledge that we are quite literally ‘halfway there’ (albeit still perhaps living on a prayer...)

CCFC 1 v 2 PETERBORO

CCFC v PETERBORO

Warning: This report contains events that some people may find disturbing. Any inaccuracies or conflict in mood and tone result from cocky assumptions made in advance that foolishly ignored a lifetime of harsh reality checks. This is what happens when you dare to dream. My apologies.

The Preamble Ramble

In 1927 while we were busy buffing up our cloth caps, lubricating our rattles and comb-overs and checking we had enough roll-ups for the trip on the Great Western bogie to Paddington for our second Cup Final in three years against the mighty Gunners, lowly Bradford Park Avenue were completing an unprecedented run of 25 home wins in Division 3 North.

That particular record may be beyond us but the inevitable win today against bottom of the table Peterboro will beat Southampton’s 10 match winning sequence from last season and extend our match-by-match stroll along the Glory Road to immortality. By contrast, The Posh find themselves at the foot of the table, having secured just one point from the last 24 available. At this rate it will be some time before the swanky upstarts take their place at the top table.

Peterborough were given the moniker ‘The Posh’ after the manager of the then Peterborough & Fletton United set out to recruit ‘posh players for a posh team’ in 1934. Their working-class credentials are further compromised by the fact that their traditional rivals are Cambridge United and at the height of hooliganism and social unrest in the 1980’s rival fans would often congregate on the green at King’s College to question each other’s honour.

Well, my learned Posh friends, it is my most earnest contention therefore that when considering the relative merits of today’s teams based on the most contemporary empirical evidence one has to seriously question if there has ever been a greater mismatch in the history of Championship football. One would in fact give scant regard to any outcome other than a convincing victory to the home team followed by much merry-making, revelry and general conviviality. Power to the people, right on...

The day began with a tribute to Rick Wright, the former Chairman who ran the club between 1992-95, rescuing it from financial meltdown with his own money, introducing a number of innovative schemes such as ‘Kids for a Quid’ and a sliding scale of ticket prices based on the team’s performance. Yes, it was cheap to watch the Bluebirds in those days.

The Posh were neatly turned out in a mid-80’s shade of Bluebirds Blue and it was to be another afternoon of double-takes. The natural urge to get behind the team in blue was proving difficult to restrain as against all expectations Peterboro had clearly come to play football. Darren Ferguson had said in advance that we were ‘frightening’ in the victory against Blackburn but he fancied his team’s chances against us. A chip-off-the-old-block bit of Fergie kidology surely?

Malky kept faith with Conway who began brightly, forcing a rash challenge from their right back who earned an early booking. From the resulting free kick Helguson found the net with a thumping header which was disallowed by a suspiciously late flag from the referee’s assistant.

Posh were not daunted by our early dominance and went close themselves, forcing a sharp save from Marshall after some neat, unchallenged, inter-play on the edge of the box. Without the suspended Hudson we looked ponderous and leaderless at the back, guilty of standing off and letting their midfield take control. Our own midfield was anonymous, Whittingham and Cowie failing to impose themselves, swamped by the Posh playmakers.

On 20 minutes Helguson went in with raised feet for a 50/50 challenge on the edge of the box. Despite winning the ball fairly and being upended himself he was penalised. And booked! The free kick from Bostwick flew either through or over the wall past Marshall. The Canton End’s bitter rendition of ‘1-0 to the referee’ was spot on.

Shortly afterwards a Bellamy header was cleared off the line and we had a number of consecutive corners as the half drew to a close but we were less than convincing. Conversely, Peterboro were looking like one of the more useful outfits to visit Fortress CCS this season.

Malky’s half-time instructions were clearly to get up and at them from the start, which we did. Unfortunately this left us very vulnerable at the back as the Posh broke with Turner and McNaughton on the back foot. The ball was fed through to the impressive Gayle and the on-loan striker coolly slotted the ball past the advancing Marshall. 0-2.

Gayle had a number of further opportunities to put the game beyond us as the game wore on and our disorganised central defence were having a torrid time against a player who can’t get a regular game for Dagenham & Redbridge. ‘nuff said!

On the hour McNaughton was given the chance to end his own personal nightmare, replaced by Gunnarsson. Cowie soon joined him on the naughty stair, replaced by Mutch. Minutes later Conway was replaced by Gestede as the Dugout of Shame received its full compliment.

Inevitably we began pumping the ball up to Big Rudy and the game was up. We’re at our best running at the opposition from deep, bringing Whittingham into the game, getting the ball out wide. The old tried-and-mistrusted hit ‘n’ hope smacks of desperation and although we had chances to retrieve something from the debacle (Helguson failing to net on three separate occasions from just outside the 6 yard box) it would have been a travesty if the Posh had come away with anything less than three points.

Gestede did net late on to provide a temporary spark but this inevitably fizzled out.

I’m not sure I believe in ‘bogey’ teams but we do seem jinxed against the ‘Posh’ suffering a number of unlikely and demoralising reversals in recent years. Interestingly, the first recorded use of the word dates from a 1918 edition of Punch in the sentence ‘we had a posh time of it down there’. Again.

The derivation of the word is unclear but apparently refers back to the days of Empire ‘Port Out, Starboard Home’ whereby the members of the British Raj demanded the best seats. Here’s an updated version for our rivals: Promotion Over? Some Hope.

Normal service will be resumed on Boxing Day.

CCFC 1 v 0 SHEFF WED

CCFC v SHEFF WED

Today sees a welcome return to the CCS for a genuine Bluebirds legend, a man who has been lauded for giving the club his best years, who has both shared the highs and suffered his fair share of the slings and arrows of outrageous footie fortune but who can reclaim his seat with head held high, secure in the knowledge that his return will be met with almost universal acclaim. Oh, and Dave Jones is also back in town.

In my absence nothing much has changed – every hard-earned morale-boosting home victory still seems likely to be undermined by an away day implosion (the news of the 4-5 Charlton reversal as we were travelling the road to Shangri-la was particularly incongruent).

As we seek to extend our unblemished, all-conquering ‘red in tooth and claw’ home form it’s worth reflecting that in the Far East the colour red is imbued with auspicious nuance; its fiery hue signifying nothing 

 less than the pulse of the Chinese warrior nation, infused with the power to slay the enemy.

This romantic, whimsical notion is in fact borne out by the facts:

Researchers in Durham, who analysed a cross-section of Olympic contact sports from boxing to Greco-Roman wrestling deduced that almost 55 per cent of bouts were won by the person in red. The boffins found that the colour red is ‘capable of provoking deep-rooted aggression and dominance in the competitive arena’. By the same token, players facing opponents resplendent in red tend to exhibit more defensive reactions. Even more persuasive evidence comes from The Journal of Sports Science which has disclosed from a study of every English league result since the Second World War that teams with predominantly red strips win more often, average more points per game and finish higher in the table than those playing in any other colour.

As our team of untouchables approach another milestone - a record-breaking tenth consecutive home victory - our opponents arrive on the back of a miserable run of 5 straight defeats in November. That this should happen after a promising start to the campaign by a team managed by Dave Jones will have the Ninian Park sages nodding knowingly...

Despite the genuine highs of six roller-coaster years under DJ, they concluded with derailed dreams that floundered at the buffers of unfulfilled promise. His win percentage of 41.9% compares favourably with the best – Jimmy Scoular managed only 33.49% - and prior to Malky’s arrival he was second only to Alan Cork who (hard to believe) secured a 42.5% return in his 7 month stint. But Malky currently has the edge at 46.75%.

Significantly however Jones did not have the benefit of red-crested 100% infallibility. In fact Malky’s record as a blueshirt is an underwhelming 37.31% although this is statistically questionable as it assumes a nil home return had we not sold out to the red dominion. Which is unlikely. But anyway, you see where I’m coming from – Malky’s the better manager. Just. Let’s see where we are five year’s time.

Disappointingly the return of DJ went unheralded as he assumed his usual posture leaning distractedly against the dugout not fully engaged with proceedings. In contrast Malky continued to rage in semaphoric incredulity for 90 minutes.

Conway for the suspended Noone was the only team change, with Kim playing right side linking up with a roving Bellamy in front of the opposition back four / eight. A scrappy first ten minutes set the scene for the afternoon as Wednesday sat back intent on soaking up the pressure and frustrating any creativity from the home side. This they managed to do with relative ease as City’s total domination amounted to little more than peppering the Owls’ goal with speculative shots from an advanced midfield.

I counted seven corners in the first 30 minutes but the trademark swinging Whittingham crosses to the far post lacked potency as a physical Wednesday defence crowded out the advancing Hudson and Connolly and Helguson fed on scraps. Anxiety was setting in as half-time approached and as the one minute of Pro Supplements sponsored injury time was announced the exasperation was palpable.

The half time consensus was that Wednesday would inevitably tire but Malky would have to change things to unsettle them. We continued to be indecisive going forward with no sense of a cohesive strategic assault. Whittingham was struggling to exert any real influence, Bellamy was huffing and puffing and Kim was involved but never looked like inspiring a breakthrough (early days perhaps, but I’m not sure what the South Korean brings to the party – he has no pace, rarely gets past a defender and is goal-shy. He looks accomplished on the ball but rarely threatens.)

On the hour Malky rang the changes. Mason came on for Kim and soon after Gestede replaced Helguson. Almost immediately Rudy met a Conway cross and the crowd rose with him to herald the breakthrough, only to see his powerful header scream just inches wide of the post. Another Conway – Gestede exchange narrowly failed to deliver prior to the game’s decisive moment.

As the desperate City assault continued, on 80 minutes the ball was swung in to Mason just outside the box. His cushioned header fell into the path of Man of The Match Conway who swept a left-footed daisy-cutter past the diving Kirkland. 1-0 and relief all round.

Despite a spirited much-belated Wednesday response our record-breaking victory was not to be denied as we returned to the top of the league, a statement of fact proclaimed by all (repeat to fade...) swiftly followed by a fickle Canton End cruelly taunting their defeated former favourite with a rousing ‘You’re getting sacked in the morning’. It was enough to leave even mild-mannered diffident Dave seeing Red.