Why do you win some games? What is the differentiating factor that means three points and joy one weekend and no points and despair another? Despite decades of investigation into this issue I am none the wiser today than when I first saw someone kick a piece of leather. In particular I am none the wiser now than I was 24 hours ago before we comfortably beat one of our promotion rivals at their own place, not letting them get a single shot on goal in the process.
There are some people who say “bloody Sky” – and I’d agree with them. However, more to the point – bloody licensing laws. Shortly after half ten on a Sunday morning and we were parked up at the usual place a few hundred yards from Pride Park. We had a half-hearted walk over to the Navigation but inevitably no early openings so close to the ground, just a big van full of polises in case …… actually I’m not sure what they were there in case of – a sober-induced rush on the doors by enraged SAFC supporters? But there they were and so we decided we wouldn’t be. We fell back on Plan B – a stash of cans of Guinness in a cool bag in the back of the car and some ham and peas pudding sarnies. Hah, licensing laws kiss my cold arse! I bliddy hope this 24 hour drinking malarkey comes in soon and ends almost a century of self-righteous gits telling us when and where we can drink. Not that I want to drink for 24 hours or anything like it. Just if I want a pint an hour and a half before a football match and a landlord wants to sell it to me, I do not think we should be prevented from transacting merely because this morally self-satisfied minority have nothing better to do than try to stop us.
Anyway the upshot of Plan B and the attractions of car park Guinness was that we missed the kick-off, getting in just in time to see us defend a corner. If there was anything exciting that happened in the 30 seconds before that I’m afraid I can’t let you know about it.
Straight away one question was answered. The Collins collection was playing at centre halves. For some reason Breen, who we thought was fit, was nowhere to be seen. Caldwell we knew was injured. We’d thought Mick might move Ringo over to centre half and let Danny C play left back – bit of experience in the middle maybe. But no, he’d trusted to the Colinseses talent and was to be proved right. What he had done (perhaps to give the young ‘uns some protection) was put Jeff and Robbo in central midfield. Slightly negative perhaps but Derby were only five points behind us and were one of the best teams we’d faced in recent weeks. That meant a surprise return for Arca and Whitehead pushed out right. Tubby, somewhat unfortunately for him given his sterling performances, was on the bench and Piper was nowhere to be seen (nor was Bridges).
First half we kicked away from us. Not a great deal of excitement to be honest. The defence held out well and we controlled the midfield. Arca had a pretty poor time of it and Wright was shocking. We did manage a couple of long-range efforts on target but none of the “ooh, that was close” variety. Despite the fact that Derby never really threatened we did conspire to almost hand them a goal as the ball came into the box and pinged its way round – mainly off our players. Fortunately we eventually cleared. I then got a text off a mate saying something like “stone bonker penalty for them. Danny C upended the striker”. I thought, “eh, what’s he talking about?” I showed this text to some Derby supporters in the pub afterwards where we were watching Boro v Everton and they passed it reverentially amongst themselves as if it was the clear cut proof they had been looking for as to the injustice of a cruel, unfair god. When I got back home some SAFC supporters on this site’s message board were saying “lucky not to get that penalty given against us”. Eh? I watched it again on the highlights at ten o’clock and it proved beyond doubt the folly of watching TV and believing what you see. The lad slipped. The goalmouth area in front of us was just a layer of slimy mud – it would have done the 70s Baseball ground pitch proud. The lad took a swing at the ball and missed. The momentum of his swinging leg couldn’t be counteracted by his standing leg, as his foot had no grip on the slimy mud so he ended up on his backside. It’s your basic Newtonian physics man. Very embarrassing for the lad. But you don’t get penalties to cover your embarrassment. I’m sure that as you watched Sky and saw the twentieth replay from 22 different angles in super graduated slow-mo you could persuade yourself that something must have happened (why would they be showing so many replays otherwise?). Let me tell you – I had a great view of it, the ref had a great view of it, the linesman had a great view of it. The lad slipped.
Second half and we were kicking towards us. Hooray! It seemed to me that we had much the greater territory. Derby again went the whole half without a shot on target (hitting the bar is not on target). Arca improved and I stopped noticing Wright (so let’s deem him to have improved). Two great goals with some excellent work. Early on Stew (I’ll come back to him) from the left wing fed Arca in the box who took a great welly at it, which the keeper did well to parry (I have no idea what that word means but I’ve read real reporters using it so I thought I’d drop it in). And then the bit I like. Our striker was rushing in for the follow up. He had no idea what was going to happen. No idea if the ball would come off the goalie. He was just playing the percentages – the thing that made strikers like Linneker and Ian Wright great strikers. Nine hundred and ninety nine times nothing might happen but go charging in for the thousandth time as if it were the first and suddenly the ball will be there and the goal will be yours. Oh yes my son the goal will be yours. Step forward Stephen, Stephen Elliott.
Bit later and the ball came down the inside left channel and was going to run out. Flying like the wind came Stephen Elliot again (any premiership managers watching should switch off and f off at this point). He somehow got to the ball. But what’s the point? OK he’s ahead of most of the defence but they’re going to get back and he’s stuck on the bye line at the left side of the box. Don’t waste your energy son. But no, I’d forgot another thing I like is midfielders who get up in support of their strikers. Step forward Deano. Or rather rush forward like a bliddy train (and I don’t mean a Virgin train). Elliot pulled the ball back smartly to Deano. I’ve talked about this phenomenon before. How time slows so you can have a lot more thoughts than logically seem to fit into the time allotted. The ball reached Deano. Great I thought. Deano shoots. Great I thought. The ball hits the defender trying to track back with Deano. Bugger I thought. But the ball simply bounces off the defender and hits Deano again. That’s a surprising outcome, I thought, I wonder what will become of that? The ball comes off Deano and heads straight into the net. Well fancy that, I thought, while attempting to scream “yeah, yeah, yeah” and “ha, ha, ha” simultaneously. If ever there was proof of the saying “you make your own luck” this was it.
A very satisfactory three points. As I said at the beginning I still have no idea how we win games. We beat one of our promotion rivals at their place. We have a comfortable victory in the Cup over a premiership team but can’t beat a bottom three team at the SoL. Bliddy football. You can see why we keep watching it.
Final couple of words. Brown came on for Elliot and I thought he was immense – played a great holding, harrying game. Well done son. But man of the match for Stew. Lots of supporters, including me, get frustrated by Stew. But in a young (very young) team he played maturely and sensibly and was the creative force behind a lot of our work. The only pity is SAFC have not seen enough of him like this because this was the player we coveted many moons ago when he was at Huddersfield and then Ipswich. I hope we can hang on to Elliot as he could be a real star – he will have learned a lot from playing in a game like this alongside Stew in this form.
And so we marched down the road to find a pub with Sky Premier Plus (if that’s OK with the moral minority). The Derby supporters both along the road and in the pub were great with us. But for some reason a whole upper deck of charvers from a bus gave us real grief (the traffic was slow and the bus kept stopping at bus stops so they had plenty of opportunity). I can’t imagine they mistook us for a “firm” – two middle-aged blokes, two women, a young lad and lass and a bairn. We were “casual” only in that that was the only speed at which we could walk. Very strange.
In line with the massive over-reaction to every to and fro of the season as required of every supporter of every club I hereby declare our promotion push well and truly back on track. As on track as it was off track after the Gillingham game. This opinion is not guaranteed to last beyond the next goal we concede.
