It's been another interesting
week in the life of a Bluebird. We've all got our own views about the recent
turn of events and under normal circumstances we might turn to the pages of The
Echo (obviously out of force of habit rather than for reasons of journalistic
plausibility and insight) to catch up with events and inform our viewpoint. But
this week as 5 Live's Jon Champion said on Saturday 'everybody wants to talk
about Cardiff City'. Like a bad-boy Hollywood or reality TV celeb we have
become the go-to slow news day page filler.
Vincent Tan's entirely
self-inflicted domestic difficulties have made headlines around the world and
given rise to some lurid speculation and some sensational claims. Here's a
sample:
JOHANNESBURG TIMES:
Tutu To Chair Tan Mackay Truth And Reconciliation Committee
BOSTON GLOBE:
Sensational New Eye-witness Claim - I Saw Tan On Grassy Knoll
DAILY EXPRESS:
Diana CCTV Tapes Prove Tan Was In Tunnel
THE SUN: Vincent
Tan Ate Freddie Starr's Hamster
DAILY SPORT: Lord
Lucan Discovered Living In Vincent Tan's Moustache
MUSLIM NEWS:
Mackay Image Discovered In Kiwi Fruit
CATHOLIC HERALD: Malky
Is Mother Theresa Love Child
FASHION WEEKLY:
Stella McCartney To Unveil Vincent Tan Spring Collection
...and finally an interesting but clearly rhetorical
question from THE INDEPENDENT: Is Cardiff City's Vincent Tan The Worst
Club Owner In The History Of Football? Erm, tricky one...!
CCFC 0 v 3 SOUTHAMPTON
We arrived at the ground to the
news that hundreds had answered the call to protest before the game and it was
clear that the predominant colour in the ground was blue. In fact the only red
on display was the deep crimson of rage and embarrassment in the director's
box. Tan himself appeared to be flanked by a number of heavies as he took his
seat to a rousing chorus of 'Don't Sack Mackay' followed by more direct and
less subtle tunes as the Canton End vented its collective spleen.
The line-up didn't include Gary
Medal who presumably picked up an injury in Saturday's defeat at Liverpool
which left the midfield ominously lightweight. Plenty had been calling for
Cornelius to be given a chance ahead of Odemwingie up front but Malky kept
faith with the 4-4-2 / 4-4-1-1 arrangement with Campbell spearheading the
attack.
Southampton played five across
the middle and this was to prove decisive as they immediately took control
playing a neat, efficient short passing game, retaining possession with ease
and dominating an unimaginative and disorganised City midfield.
Against the run of play (as we
soccer journos like to say) the first real chance of the game fell to the home
team as Whittingham ghosted into the box to meet a penetrating cross from Noone
but failed to make full contact from 6 yards with just the keeper to beat. An
early goal would surely have helped to instil some belief and reinvigorated the
team after days of morale-sapping speculation off the pitch. It wasn't to be.
On 14 minutes the impressive
Lallana skipped past a completely out of sorts Taylor - who was playing like
he'd reacted to the off field distractions by taking refuge in a very well
stocked pantry - to cross to the rampaging Rodriguez who slotted the ball past
Marshall. 0-1.
Worse was quickly to follow as
the Saints doubled their lead when Rodriguez again lost his man at the far post
to volley home Lambert's through ball and make it 0-2 after 20 minutes.
We were now playing with all the
belief and expectation of a turkey on Christmas Eve staring fearfully at a
pound of sprouts. If the sainted opposition had any lingering doubts whether they'd
been naughty or nice, these were settled on 27 minutes when Lambert was gifted
a third.
The implausible man in the red
tunic left his seat in the director's box knowing that his day's work was done,
presumably to offer some seasonal cheer to a hard-up out of work manager.
As half time approached
Southampton had a 10 minute period of virtually 100% possession, each
successful pass being welcomed by their fans like it was a wholly expected but
nonetheless much appreciated gift-wrapped new pair of socks. The teams left the
pitch to the sound of wild cheering from one corner of the ground and disgruntled
seasonal jeer and humbugging elsewhere.
The big screens reminded us of
our duty to continue to go out and buy stuff when what we really needed was a
good old Ali half-time soundtrack to serve as an antidote and put our troubles
in perspective. He might have chosen from any of the following:
Malaysian Idiot - Green Day
Sweet Mean Vincent - Ian Dury
Tan Strung Up In Blue - Bob Dylan
Tan On The Run - Wings
The Fool On Leckwith Hill - The
Beatles
The Boulevard De Nantes Of Broken
Dreams - Green Day
What Have We Done to Deserve
This? - Pet Shop Boys
The second half was all about
containment which the opposition managed with consummate ease. With the
honourable exceptions of Noone and the tireless Campbell (the victim of a
number of woeful decisions from the official running the line on our side - flagged
on one occasion for being hauled down by a defender!) we were about as threatening
as a Canton End taunt. Cornelius was given an extended run out and looked every
inch a quality Sunday morning pub team reserve, but it's not for me to condemn
him at this point - the coming weeks will allow him ample opportunity to do
that for himself.
BREAKING NEWS...BREAKING NEWS...BREAKING NEWS...
In a statement
straight from the North Korean Guide to News Management the Official Website
has announced 'The Board of Directors
have today relieved Malky Mackay of his duties'. What a heart-warming
magnanimous gesture.
'Hey That's No
Way To Say Goodbye' - Leonard Cohen.
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