So we headed off for West Bromwich with the elation of that beyond last minute winner against Derby still very fresh. Do moments like that make up for the hours trudging around the country and the many turgid games and the long periods of suffering? Who knows. However what I do know is that anyone who isn’t a supporter of a team doesn’t get that explosion of joy, shared with tens of thousands of like-minded people. And I know there is no other feeling quite like it.
This was the last of the three games that were to test the credibility of our push for promotion. You can only say that, with 7 points out of 9 and three very creditable performances, it is a test we have passed with flying colours. What we need to do now is make sure that we don’t get complacent and that we treat Barnsley, Stoke and Hull with the same respect as we have Brum, Derby and the Baggies and approach the upcoming games with the same mental and physical toughness.
But I get ahead of myself. We got to the Vine just over the other side of the M5 from the Hawthorns fairly early. Despite being a large pub we ended up in the far room that was really more a covered yard. Mind you as one of the lads from the North Herts SAFCSA said, the Vine is not so much a large pub as a very small pub with a small street with a roof behind it.
Despite it being a cannyish walk to the ground we managed to get there before the threatened closure of the gates leading up to the away end (for crowd control reasons they like to send you on a several miles long hike through an adjoining estate). On our way we had picked up that Keane had again switched things around. The big surprise was that Stokes was appearing on the left wing. The club website had said that Stokes had had a virus during the week. I’d assumed it had meant he’d had a “virus” so was surprised to see him. Maybe it was just a virus.
For some reason our allocation was restricted to 2,600. I had thought we’d get 3,000. With the waves of optimism washing over the red and white North-East we’d sold out the allocation some time ago and there had been quite desperate attempts by supporters to get tickets later on. The red and white army were in good voice all afternoon long. Pleased to say two new(ish) songs got a mass airing. First the very, very old “ee, aye, ee, aye, ee, aye, oh, up the football league we go…” which I still associate with a final line of “Charlie is our King” (referring to Hurley of course). Whereas now it is “Keano is our king”. Some lads have been trying to get this going for ages but this time a large chunk of the crowd seemed to pick it up. The other was, very deservedly, a song for Darren Ward: “Darren, Darren Ward” to the tune we sang “Gary, Gary Breen”. Not a worldbeater but I do like our players to have songs with which we can show our appreciation.
We started the half kicking towards the opposite end. I was up in the far corner right up at the top. It was canny in that you got a good sense of what was happening in terms of overall shape and movement but I was buggered it I could tell you who was doing what most of the time. To be honest, while we were playing well in terms of possession and not letting them get chances on goal, this was not the masterclass in football we gave Brum and Derby. Still. about half way through Simpson got the ball out right and did a mazey run towards the danger area. He then fed a nice pass though to Stern John at the edge of the box and he flicked it first time into the path of Yorke advancing down the centre, who met it on the 18 yard line and sent it hard and low into the bottom right hand corner. Oh yes [insert appropriate Trinidad expression here].
Worst incident of the first half was one of their defenders got a machete out and started hacking Carlos Edwards to pieces. The ref, Dermot Gallagher, claimed he saw nothing wrong with this and the linesman I assume was facing into the stand. By the time our physio got on and picked up the various bits of Carlos, it was obvious we might not be going to see him for a while. One hopes that is a while of weeks rather than a while of months because Carlos has been a big part of the 2007 SAFC juggernaut and we will miss him a lot.
Anyway the second half started very promptly (three minutes past four!) throwing off a lot of people doing what has to be done at half time. They were to be thrown further very soon. For we got a corner right in front of us (our lads’ left). Now I could see what was going on but can’t remember (there is always one faculty not working) – I think it was Deano took it. The players in the box all moved forward and took the defenders and the goaly with them. The ball went over all of them and running in to the back post came our unmarked striker with the better heading ability, Stern John, to nod the ball back across goal and into the net. Bloody hell – I remember being taught that move at school and thinking no-one would ever fall for it.
This of course was in front of us – so we decided to go loopy – as did the lads.
2-0 up away from home against a team above us at the top of the league. Clearly we weren’t going to play the most open expansive football (although Keano reckons we should have gone for the third to kill the game off). However, like Holloway (“how can we expect to get decisions against the mighty Sunderland”) and Davies (“we had 45 shots to their 1”!!!) Mowbray decided to hoy his toys out of the pram, followed closely by his dummy. He had some whinge about how they would win more of the remaining games than us and score more goals. Maybe Tony, we’ll see – but read the papers and ask yourself: who won more games on Saturday – you or us? Who scored more goals on Saturday – you or us? It is really encouraging that we are rattling opposition managers so much – if we have them so rattled, there is a decent likelihood we have their players rattled even more.
Half way through the second half, Phillips was subbed, which caused some division amongst the travelling support. Some were shouting “Judas, what’s the score?”, some singing “Super Kevin Phillips”. Your reporter finds it all a bit sad and shouted nor sang nowt. I am not going to abuse a player who for four seasons was one of the most exciting and entertaining I’ve ever seen in a red and white shirt. On the other hand this was a bloody important game that we were in a great position in – I can’t see it makes sense to be chanting the name of an opposition player.
Anyway that over with, unity was restored and we got back to the more important business of getting behind our lads. Unfortunately one of our former lads, Darren Carter, popped up to score what looked like a fortunate speculative shot from outside a crowded box. That made the last bit of the game a bit more nervey. But, despite giving some silly balls away, we maintained our discipline, didn’t give them too many clear chances and could easily have nicked a third on the break.
They ended up with ten men when one of their defender couldn’t stop Miller breaking towards the box – so he simply stopped Miller. I thought Miller was a little theatrical going over and I am not sure a “clear goal scoring opportunity” was denied. But if you bring a man down there you are always at risk.
And so we headed off back for the car. As we were walking past the car park opposite the ground a van load of SAFC supporters were getting into their transport while one of them stood at the front singing at the top of his voice “la, la, la, la Keano”. I gave him a wave. Partly in mutual happiness, but also in admiration that he had managed to get the words wrong to “na.na. na, na Keano”
John aka Herts