I have just finished reading a book called “Guns, Germs and Steel”. It seeks to explain the overwhelming influence of environment on the relative acquisition of technology (and other factors) which allows one people to dominate another. It contrasts with the attempted racist explanation. I now feel somewhat guilty. One can’t but help notice when one visits Middlesbrough how “primitive” they are (of course even that is judgmental – they might be quite happy in their primitiveness). I had always put this down to something inferior in their genes – or at the very least the prevalence of in-breeding. The book however explains how relatively small populations, isolated on a north-south axis are extremely unlikely to develop significant technologically advanced societies. One can understand this in a fairly straightforward way in the case of the Aborigines of Australia. However, the same applies to populations isolated as effective islands on larger land masses – this applied to many native American tribes who remained at a primitive technological stage, despite living fairly close (as the crow flies) to other advanced American societies (before the European invasion in 1492).
Think now about Middlesbrough. It is entirely isolated. Nobody travels there. Few people seem to travel from there. It is part of Yorkshire but the Tykes don’t want it. In distance terms it is actually closer to the North-East than the main population centres of Yorkshire but we certainly are not having them. There they sit – unloved and worse, unhated. Just plain ignored. Is it any wonder that they barely seem to have progressed to the stage of Homo Sapiens?
It never ceases to amaze me how close Middlesbrough is. We’d been at the Seaham Harbour Docks Open Day (and a jolly good event it was). We hopped in the car and then … we were there. It really is no distance. As a youngster I actually mixed with quite a lot of people from south Co. Durham and their accent is not substantially different from the whole North-East (all be it I acknowledge there are variations within the region that seem important to us but are indistinguishable to outsiders). However, cross the Tees flyover and it all changes. We parked up and went for a drink in town (using the cunning ploy of not wearing our colours). I tell you – it was like being an extra in Emmerdale. Everything was “eh up duck, pass t’ Tetleys”. Even our lass who doesn’t usually believe my explanations of how culturally different Middlesbrough is, despite its geographic closeness, commented on how “Yorkshire” they sound. Fortunately as I’ve lived down south so long I can bland my accent down enough to order a round without attracting the attention of the hunter-gatherers.
So, Guinessed up, we did the long trek down to the ground. Does it occur to anyone else with all that wasteland down towards the docks, why did they choose the lump of ground furthest from the town centre? Other than the mellow feeling of well-being that comes from drinking Guinness I was not even vaguely looking forward to this match. Regular readers will know that I aim for optimism in the face of all evidence to the contrary. However, last week’s injury time equaliser cut through to my soul. The stunned silence from all parts of the ground (except the away end) sounded like something had just died – surely it was our hopes of premiership survival. The joyless victory over Cheltenham on Tuesday hardly did much to lift the spirits.
The team at least was interesting. Hoyte and Basilla, both of whom would prove to be important passed fitness tests. Stubbs didn’t. Stubbs to my mind is our best central defender. However, the Stubbs/Breen partnership is not a great one. Breen likes to be in charge. Sometimes incorrectly – for example in his relationship with Davis. When the ball comes into or towards the box, the keeper gets the shout. Everyone is taught that at infant school – it is a universal rule. But Breen seems to think he is entitled to the shout – once again in this game this ended up in a mix-up that could have been costly but fortunately wasn’t. Mick needs to remind Breen of this simple rule – you’re the captain, what you says goes, you control the offside line – but when the ball is on or coming to the box, the keeper’s shout is always, always to be obeyed. Where was I? Oh yes, central defenders. So it is not that Stubbs tries to over-ride Breen’s authority – it is just that you end up with a strong person alongside him and I’m not sure it brings out the best in him. Today we had the return of the Breen/Caldwell partnership and it worked fairly well. We also had the disappearance of Stead (not even on the bench). Was he injured or dropped or what like?
Crucially we decided to go 4-4-2 and it was lovely. It paid dividends big time – right from the start. Two minutes in and a big kick out by Davis. Gray (well, at least in my eyes) cushioned it and then Elliott shot, the ball came off the post and Miller put it in. I tell you – that is exactly what I saw. I got home in time to watch MOTD2 and it was completely different. Ball was cushioned OK but then Miller got in the shot (Elliott was in the vicinity mind) and the ball went in off the post! I was pissing mesel laughing at how different the goal on the telly was from the goal in my mind. I wish the bastids wouldn’t score down the other end! Anyway that wasn’t my point. My point was the fact that we had someone to cushion the header and then we had players to do something with it – ~OK Miller scored but I think Elliott’s presence was crucial in stopping the Boro defence concentrating on Miller and probably being able to snuff him out.
Cue lots of jumping about and singing. The atmosphere had been canny in the build up but the goal meant that all game through the travelling SAFC supporters got behind the lads. The usual Cleveland child abuse songs (not sure we’re meant to sing them like) but also loud renditions of “fresh air, we only want fresh air” which was jolly good fun. On MOTD 2 I could hear the Boro supporters but at the ground I didn’t hear them once (I was at the back in the corner mind). It makes you realise how much better it is having something like the South West Corner (notwithstanding the irritation of crap anti-mag and anti-away fan songs amongst the SAFC songs) at the SoL to get a bit of atmosphere going.
The rest of the game we played decent (although not significantly better than other games except West Brom). We passed it around well. Arca took the mickey, Hoyte looked like an Arsenal player, Basilla was just huge again – they just can’t get past him. Best of all they gave us back the Davis we had pre-season not that crappy impostor we’ve had recently. Kelvin made a number of really crucial saves which encouraged us even more and demoralised the already demoralised smoggies.
Second half was much the same. Boro obviously having more possession and territory as they were at home and were behind. But the lads were doing well. We were passing it around comfortably and even had time for a quite superb moment of comedy (no, not Arca landing Macorone on his arse then turning round to do it to him again – although that was good). We’d passed it across the back four and Nyron (who had had a good game but is loyal to his knockers who like to have something to have a go at him for) was in the Boro half when he decided to pass it back to Davis. Frankly, that was a strange enough decision its own right. But his execution of it was a peach – straight as a dye the ball went zooming into the corner for a corner to Boro. I’m sure most readers will have seen it on TV – if you haven’t you just won’t be able to imagine it. Actually we must have been 2-0 by then up cos we were all pissing ourselves laughing – I’m sure we wouldn’t have been if it had still been 1-0.
Amazingly despite Nyron’s attempt he didn’t manage to win the comedy of the afternoon award. I don’t usually notice opposition players (as you’ll realise from my description of the first goal I need all my effort focused on what the hell we are up to). But on this occasion you couldn’t help but notice Rochemback. McClaren on MOTD reckoned he’d been canny in other games. But at this match he was shocking. Early on we had a good al laugh at some mis-executed moves – but at least we could see what he was trying to do. By the end it was impossible to watch what he did with the ball and think “in his mind, what exactly was meant to happen?”. McClaren used all three subs but left him on – thanks Steve – much appreciated up in the away end.
As I wasn’t saying, the ball came through for Elliot. He was hacked down just as the linesman flagged Gray for offside. The Boro fans and players went mad about the ref giving us the free-kick. We went mad because Gray was clean through on goal and would have scored because we never miss one-on-ones and never score free kicks. The boys at Sky thought “excellent, we can make a six part documentary on this to fill up those hundreds of hours of coverage we’ve got nowt to put in now that Chelsea already have the title”. Arca said “hoy lads, watch this, do you remember how I used to be able to do this”. He sent the ball curving over the wall. Now it was very nicely done ‘n all. But it seemed to be moving at the pace of an asthmatic snail (are there any other types on Tees-side?) with nowhere particular to go on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I swear I could have walked down to the front and grabbed the ball after it had cleared the wall and before it ht the net. But Jones (or was it the impostor Davis we had earlier? Jones, hmmm – a likely story) just watched it. But in the net it went and over to us came Arca (as did Welsh who was warming up but invaded the pitch – oohh, yellow card offence – more for the boys in the Sky box to debate). I tried to jump up on back of the seat in front but some fat fecker (err, that’ll be me) had done the same thing for our first goal and so it was smashed. You’d think I would have remembered that.
Bliddy hell, 2-0. This was an unusual feeling. We actually felt fairly comfortable.
And so we moved off the bottom and actually into a close pack of teams, all of whom look like relegation candidates. I’m sure regular readers are expecting my usual optimistic sign-off. I’m sorry I just can’t do it. That West Brom equaliser is still hurting me too much that even this win can’t make it better. Looking forward to West Ham and maybe another win will switch my unjustified optimism back to max power. But it’s not there yet.