2010-11 Match Reports CCFC v BRISTOL CITY

16.10.2010

CCFC 3 v 2 BRISTOL CITY

For those of us of a certain vintage there is a definite whiff of nostalgia in the air when The Robins fly into town. This fixture was the crunch match in the sixties & seventies. In those days the Severnside derby assumed a much greater significance than the occasional encounter with Swansea Town who, frankly, were an irrelevance, floundering in the lower reaches of Division 4, whilst we seemed forever on the very cusp of greatness. ‘Same as it ever was, Same as it ever was...’

TV reception in those lo-fi monochrome days was a bit hit and miss, often resulting in futile attempts to improve picture quality with a well-directed assault on the mock-oak formica TV cabinet, before deploying the TV-top portable aerial and finally in utter desperation switching to the Mendips aerial which was somehow more effective than the Wenvoe aerial that could be seen from the bedroom window!  As a result, our ‘local’ news & sport often had a Bristolian theme to it.

We became well acquainted with Ashton Gate’s finest, the likes of Chrissie Garland (with his girlie curly perm) Big John Galley, Trevor Tainton etc. and suffered the punditry of the insufferable Roger (‘Football Correspondent for the Daily Express’) Malone of whom the best that can be said was that he was marginally better than our own Idwal (Football Correspondent for the Beano) Robling. The rivalry faded after the Turnipheads inexplicably got promoted to Division 1 in 1976 where they lasted 5 seasons before a spectacular fall from grace during the 80’s that saw them mired in the Div 4 wastelands along with the likes of Swansea, and erm, others.....Desperate times indeed.

The South Wales Police Hooliganometer determined that this fixture still poses a threat to Laura Norder of Sloper Road CF11 so we were obliged to take an earlier than necessary stroll down Ninian Way for a mid-day kick off. A glance at the table suggested that the Championship rivalry may not last much longer as we appear to be heading in opposite directions, with Bristol firmly rooted at the bottom and us on the very cusp of greatness...

...fast forward to 12.08pm and the topsy-turvey world that is Championship football has turned topsey-turnip with wild celebrations amongst the travelling fans in one wee small corner of the Grange End and general despair elsewhere. To claim that the Bristol goals resulted from ‘schoolboy’ errors would be an insult to the short-trousered amongst us.

Their first came courtesy of Capt. Hudson’s fine impression of Steptoe & Son’s ‘Old Ned’ as he failed to close down the Bristol winger. The cross sailed over ‘Good For Glue’ Hudson and the flapping Heaton onto a Bristol bonse and into the top corner. 0-1.

The second came from the defence’s inability to clear a corner (see previous paragraph). 0-2.

The daft thing was that beyond our own box we were playing well, with McNaughton and Burke tying their left side in knots. It was no surprise that this combination got us back into the game as their pace and trickery provided JB with the opportunity to lash the ball past Calamity James. There was a suspicion of offside but the Lady Linesperson in front of us was having none of it, thus endearing her to the crowd who let themselves down only on one occasion when that old dinosaur, recently emerged from the primeval soup, the Bobbankosaurus suggested that she ought to get back to the ironing. Oh, how we laughed.

Confidence was growing that we would find a way back into the game and we dominated for the remainder of the first half without finding the net. So half-time and 1-2, but my prediction for a 3-2 victory was far from fanciful.

A quiet half-time from Ali who for once failed to upset the opposition or amuse the home support with his cheeky turntable antics. I for one was looking forward to a selection from The Wurzel’s Greatest Hits but we had to make do with the full version of The Stand’s ‘I’ll Be There (With Me Little Pick ‘n’ Shovel I’ll Be There)’ which hits the streets at the end of the month and apparently heads Amazon’s pre-release chart.

No sooner had the second half begun and to the shock of the many who had yet to return to their seats after their half-time recuperations, we were level. Peter Whittingham, so prolific last season but yet to get his name on the score sheet this, placed a skiddy free kick past the defensive wall beyond the reach of the despairing David James. 2-2.

As the second half wore on James became increasingly fractious, on one occasion having a good old ding-dong with one of his defenders, almost coming to blows and being ticked off by the Ref in a ‘come on, your old enough to know better’ manner. At 40 years old and 20 odd years playing at the top level it must be difficult to accept the lowering of standards so evident in front of him.

We were now dominating and had a number of near-misses, the best chance falling to Burke who failed to get past the diving James from a couple of feet out. Time was ticking on but it seemed inconceivable that we would leave without securing three points. Jones substituted the tiring McPhail with Koumas but creativity was never a problem, it was just a case of waiting for our time. In the 78^th minute we were awarded a free kick just outside the box but without a decent angle. Chopra, Koumas and Whittingham all lined up to take it which must have caused a few palpitations in the Bristol defence! Whitts it was who stepped up to fairly blast an exocet into the top corner. 3-2.

We saw out the last minutes without too much trouble and 22,000 happy Bluebirds (including yet again Mr Vincent Tan and his be-suited entourage) set off for home and a nerve-free afternoon of jolly banter and mangled syntax with Sky Sports’ Stelling and his panel of assorted has-beens. Oh, and not a hint of any bovver. The boys done good.