The Championship – Saturday 22nd December 2007

Deep, deep into injury time and we are pressing forward, looking sharp, threatening, alert. The ball is diverted into the path of McPhee who hares goalwards – his first touch is indelicate and Weaver smothers, Folan misses the rebound and Barmby contorts his body to shoot…but shoot wide, and the Tiger Nation emits a strangled cry of dismay.

Of course, this was not our final chance to rescue a point from one of the season’s toughest fixtures – rather, it was the opportunity to win it, deservedly. Seconds later referee Anthony Bates concluded the afternoon’s entertainment and we filed out into dark London night bemoaning our ill fortune but lauding our achievement. The City we’ve seen for most of the season, the City was so inexplicably absent at Preston and Southampton, appears to have returned.

Phil Brown made a couple of changes to the side that cantered past Leicester a week ago, one of them enforced as Dean Windass sat things out with a suspension – his place was taken by Fraizer Campbell. Dean Marney was also unexpectedly absent, failing even to make the bench, which meant a welcome return for David Livermore alongside Ian Ashbee in midfield.

Alan Pardew and his assistant Phil Parkinson had some happy news before kick-off with Chris Iwelumo, Zheng Zhi and Darren Ambrose all passing fitness tests as the side that lay fifth before the start of the game sought to do the double over us following their, ahem, controversial victory at the Circle in October.

The match began brightly though with few clear chances being created, a free-kick from Matt Holland for Charlton being about the best opportunity for either side, although City did have manfully defend some excellent crosses. The first real opening for City came after twenty minutes when some uncertain defending allowed the ever-alert Fraizer Campbell to ghost in and send a header just wide.

David Livermore was the next to try his luck, sending a low shot that Weaver held on to comfortably. Charlton’s initial fortune with injuries took a turn for the worse midway through the half, as Sam Sodje ambled off in some discomfort, with Patrick McCarthy replacing him.

City were playing some good stuff by now, and we nearly took after winning a corner after a Garcia shot was deflected wide – that set piece was not cleared properly and Turner cracked a shot at goal that was smothered, the resulting clearance appearing from our distant vantage point to have involved the use of a hand.

The Tigers nearly gifted Charlton a comedy own goal against the run of play when Ashbee could only flick on a free-kick that required a smart intervention from Boaz Myhill. Shortly after City finally took the lead when Powell miscontrolled and presented a free run on goal for Campbell. He advanced a few yards and hammered home a low, hard shot that flew past Weaver into the bottom corner to spark riotous celebrations in the away end.

This frayed a few tempers, still short following Charlton’s anti-football at the Circle – Folan was cautioned for a foul on Danny Mills, but this sanction was evidently insufficient for the Charlton right-back, who then attempted to get Bryan Hughes sent off for a theatrical dive in front of the dug-outs. The latest in a series of instances of simulation from a group of people who evidently have immense difficulties in remaining upright, which one might think is something of a handicap for a professional footballer, this act of cheating drew a furious reaction from the City players, incensed even further when Mr Bates booked Hughes instead of Mills. Still, City held on comfortably to lead at the break.

Charlton made a further change during the interval, Izale McLeod replacing the injured Lloyd Sam. The pattern of the game remained broadly the same however, our hosts struggling for fluency and City determinedly holding on. Ian Ashbee directed a header wide from a corner, but after this mostly chanceless start to the second half Charlton equalised when Bougherra stabbed home the rebound after a brief goalmouth scramble.

This disappointment saw the home side take charge of the game for the first time, forcing several corners and pinning City back. However we kept our shape and discipline throughout this trying period, and managed to ride it out, the home supporters growing just a little frustrated at their inability to carve out many openings.

Indeed, City were the nearest scorers during this time, a great block by McCarthy denying Campbell after a fleet-footed foray. He was booked shortly afterward for a spat with Danny Mills, for whom the red mist had now totally descended. Quite why someone who became something of a cult figure during his brief stay at City was so determined to wind up our players and cheat even more than usual is a mystery, but his ambition backfired spectacularly after tumbling hysterically after a Folan challenge and directing some unwise words at the referee, for which he was sent off.

The City fans crowed with delight as he skulked off in shame, the home support mystifying applauding a serial cheat as he traipsed off and dimmed their chances of winning yet further.

Ashbee then sent another headed flying narrowly wide from a corner as City looked to steal a victory as the game wound down, though Phil Brown introduced Damien Delaney for Campbell to introduce a note of pragmatism amid the heady ambitions.

However, as the game ticked down we had the one final chance for glory, and had Barmby just managed to hook the ball a few yards further to the left…

Nonetheless, this is a good point. Two weeks ago, as we headed home in a state of shock from Southampton, we would have jumped at taking four points from the next two games. We’ve done exactly that, and even climbed two places to a very healthy 11^th place. Two winnable home fixtures now present themselves, with Wolves and Sheff Weds visiting the Circle. A decent haul from these games will see us leave a turbulent 2007 in very good heart. (AD)

The Championship – Saturday 8th December 2007

It is just after 1pm, and we have just arrived at the ever-welcoming Chapel Arms pub on Albert Road North. Drenched despite only a brief walk from the carpark by tha banks of the white-topped Solent as the rain that has fallen since just north of Mansfield teems relentlessly down, we place wet outer clothing close to a radiator and warm ourselves with a pint – only to hear the barman gravely inform us that a pitch inspection is due at 2.30pm, and glumly we contemplate the prospect of a wasted journey to the South Coast.

Whether this inspection actually took place as the rains finally eased we are yet to discover – that our journey was wasted anyway is beyond question. For as our craven capitulation enabled Southampton’s fourth to fly in and Hull seemed about a billion miles away, suddenly the idea of travelling all the way to Hampshire without having to watch City play seemed positively wonderful.

On a wet – did I mention it was wet? – and windy afternoon at St Mary’s, Phil Brown made several elementary mistakes of varying predictability with his team selection, sending us out aligned in a 4-4-2 formation staffed thus: Myhill; Ricketts, TurnerBrown, Delaney; Okocha, Ashbee, Marney, Hughes; Windass, Folan. It meant the luckless Richard Garcia was relegated to the bench, where the equally unfortunate David Livermore accompanied him alongside Matt Duke, Andy Dawson and Stephen McPhee.

City began attacking the hardy band of loyal who’d defied the rain, cost and memories of Preston to make a 500 mile round trip to the South Coast – and as per Tuesday night, there was little indication of the horrors that were to follow as City made a decent opening. Indeed, we should have led after just ten minutes when Sam Ricketts send a deep cross in from the right that saw Dean Windass evade his markers, but he sent his low header wastefully wide. A superb chance; a poor miss.

It was a not a particularly good match, perhaps unsurprisingly given the unwelcoming conditions. The lively Skacel then had a chance for Southampton, attacking the unusually empty home end, but his attempted chip floated wide. Back came City, and a free header from a corner was headed over by Delaney – another great opportunity missed, and we really should have led a fairly even match at this point.

Sam Ricketts found himself cautioned for a challenge whose clumsy nature owed as much to the sodden turf as any lack of technique on his part, but referee Mike Thorpe opted to flash his yellow card. Not that what was to follow can in any way be attributed to Mr Thorpe, who kept the match ticking over adeptly in trying circumstances. For with our initial burst spent and Southampton looking more controlled in possession, we were forced onto the back foot and were grateful to Boaz Myhill for a flying save that denied Andrew Surman’s great shot from 25 yards, and increasingly the action was taking place at the far end of the pitch.

However, as the interval approach and we looked to have taken a reasonable parity into the break, calamity struck when Damien Delaney wandered out of position (as centre-backs at left-back are wont to do) and Hammill sent in a perfect cross for the mostly unattended Bradley Wright-Phillips to bash home a firm header. Two pieces of skill from Southampton, let us not disregard this – but an easily preventable goal and it was wretched defending from City. We trooped off at the break, heads down.

Why were heads down? Why was losing 1-0, arguably undeservedly, against a team we started the day above in the table apparently a situation beyond repair? For pity’s sake, the last time we found ourselves losing here we were playing a much better Southampton side and we were considerably weaker ourselves, yet Kevin Ellison, the ultimate Third Division trier, salvaged a point. Sadly his attitude was nowhere to be seen, and the second half was as dismal affair as we shall see all season.

Andy Dawson replaced Michael Turner at the break – our player of the season to date had not appeared to be struggling with injury, but nonetheless on came Dawson to replace Delaney, the Irishman slotting in at centre-back with Wayne Brown.

Southampton, unfortunately now kicking towards us, nearly scored a minute into the second half when Andy Davies’ header flashed a fraction wide. However, despite the pattern of play being decisively against us City had a very good claim for a penalty when Windass was pushed in the back in the area attempting to bring down a high ball. Difficult to tell for certain from over a hundred yards away – it definitely looked a foul, although it is just a week since we were given a very generous penalty ourselves at the Circle. Mr Thorpe was generally content to let things go, perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that he turned down Deano’s impassioned entreaties.

Moments later, we trailed 0-2. Hammill was once again given far too much space out wide, and he crossed for Stern John to barge past Delaney to power home a header past Myhill. For fuck’s sake City, had the lessons of earlier in the game not been learned at all?

The game was over now, and many longingly eyed the exits as we completely collapsed, permitting Southampton to look like Real Madrid. The excellent Hammill had a go next, bringing a good save out of Myhill.

The hopeless Okocha was withdrawn for McPhee. One of his first actions was to put the ball in Southampton’s goal, although this was disallowed for offside – a close call, but the flag had clearly been raised well before he shot.

Euell came close for Southampton as the game became a total rout, missing a great chance with his head. Marney sent a volley fizzing narrowly over, his final non-contribution before being brought off in favour of Richard Garcia.

Southampton made it 0-3 with quarter of an hour remaining, Stern John’s shot taking a massive deflection and spinning past the helpless Myhill and into his bottom-left corner.

Incidentally, Southampton play music after a goal. That they engage in this witless American practice and still were not the biggest embarrassment on show may hint at the depths we were plumbing. Minutes later, it was 0-4.

Your humble correspondent missed it, having sagely deduced that a fightback was somewhat unlikely to occur after the third went in, and trudged onto the paddling pool that doubled as a concourse for a piss and to see if the bar was still open, though I understand it was a fantastic volley and the goal of the game. Meh, whatever.

Southampton had more chances to make it 0-5 before Mr Thorpe thoughtfully brought the agony to and end – the City players slunk off to a less than pretty reaction from those who’d stayed to the bitterest of ends.

Total miles travelled: 748
Total expenditure: circa £175
Hours of my life wasted: 23
Points accumulated: 0
Goals scored: 0
Goals conceded: 7

That’s what I did my last few days, City. So thanks for that. Anyone who travelled to both Preston and Southampton will be must be wondering what the hell has happened to us. From a side with legitimate top-ten ambitions, we have collapsed into a total mess of a side.

Few of those responsible for this week can avoid blame. A previously tight defence has taken to dishing out gifts to all-comers. Dean Marney is tired, Ian Ashbee is good enough only for Championship football only in the minds of two people – unfortunately one of them being Phil Brown. Jay Jay Okocha is beginning to look horribly like the typical faded superstar looking for one last pay day. Up front, Windass looked every one of his 39 years, while Folan much to do to justify his colossal transfer fee and he is yet to begin this task.

And the manager? He is in charge, it is his job to train, select and motivate the side. We’re 14^th, which is roughly in line with many pre-season hopes and expectations. So far, so good. No one should seriously imagine that he should not be allowed to build upon a generally promising first year in charge.

However, he has some serious sorting out to do if our recent spell in the top half is not to be the highlight of the season. Firstly, he needs to drop Ian Ashbee, if only to prove that this is actually permissible under international law, as legacy is in grave danger of being forever tarnished. He needs to decide whether Jay Jay Okocha can successfully play in a 4-4-2 formation, or whether he’s made a costly error. He should give Garcia the right-wing slot. He needs to sign a left-back, urgently.

Most of the basic ingredients are there. The manager is a good one and much of what he is trying to achieve is eminently praiseworthy. Unfortunately this attempt at reason and logic is battling with the memories of two successive surrenders on the road. Losing games is one thing, and we can all accept it happens. Giving them up is totally unforgiveable, yet it’s happened twice in a row now. Those responsible should be ashamed of themselves. (AD)

The Championship – Tuesday 4th December 2007

Where the bloody hell did that come from? Granted – our last two games saw us look a little flat as our winning run came to an end, but as the nature of our reverse at Preston slid from the “disappointing” section of the well-stocked spectrum of Adjectives To Describe City Away Defeats towards the “unacceptable”, perhaps we were forced to conclude that starry-eyed dreams of glory were a trifle premature.

“Trifle” being a euphemism for “ginormously”. But obviously you knew that.

On an unseasonably mild night in deepest darkest Lancashire, Phil Brown showed faith with most of the XI that was held by Cardiff on Saturday, replacing only Deano with Folan as City carded: Myhill; Ricketts, TurnerBrown, Delaney; Garcia, Ashbee, Marney, McPhee; Campbell, Folan.

City began the game kicking away from the 600 or so Tiger Nationals, and had the first half-chance of the evening as a corner was half-cleared to Marney, who characteristically swished the ball several dozen yards over the bar.

It was a scrappy affair, not helped by a swirling wind whipping around the ground, now a three-sided affair after the demolition of the stand to our left – where once a decrepit, unused stand stood we now see wasteland, presumable for another one to rise to complete Deepdale’s steep, boxy design.

City were looking edgy, and nearly surrendered a horrendous goal when Myhill rolled the ball out to Ashbee, who controlled it harder than most players can kick and the ball spun off a lurking Prest 35 yards from goal – fortunately, with the City keeper hopelessly out of position, the ball dribbled wide. A let-off.

Sedgwick then blatted a shot miles over Myhill’s bar after being presented with a great shooting chance a dozen or so yards from goal as City’s defence creaked alarmingly.

However, moments later we nearly took the lead when Folan robbed a homester and burst forward, but his low shot flashed past Lonergan and smacked the near post. Unlucky for one of City’s brighter players.

The game deteriorated further – Ormerod limping off for them to be replaced by Gallagher, Turner cautioned for us for a lumpen challenge on one of theirs. Bitty, unlovely stuff. The referee kindly put the half out of its misery shortly after.

Things improved little immediately after the interval, City looking nothing like the side of recent weeks, Preston looking only slightly better than the side that was probably the worst we’ve seen at the Circle a few weeks earlier.

And on the hour, with 0-0 looking probable, and just, we fell behind in ugly fashion. McPhee sloppily lost the ball on the wing, it was swiftly transferred to the unaccompanied Agyemang, who ambled serenely forwards and planted a fine shot past Myhill. Oh dear.

And our response was frankly pathetic. Heads dropped. Passes fell short. Tackles were shirked. Duties were neglected. We were Preston North End, circa last month.

Phil Brown made a double substitution in a vain attempt to reverse our collapse, withdrawing the luckless Folan and McPhee for Dean and Okocha. And thirty seconds later our manager had legitimate reason to curse his own ill fortune as Campbell pulled up with a hamstring injury that he gamely attempted to play through before inevitably coming off for Livermore.

It made little difference. The home side knew a rare victory was theirs, and our players had seemingly realised it too, particularly when we fell further behind a minute later. A cross was allowed on the City left and Whaley was left unattended to bury the ball past Myhill. Rotten stuff. Twenty minutes remained; mindful of the congested motorways in this part of Lancashire, many made for the exits.

Those who remained, heroically spurning the temptation of returning to Yorkshire, or equally alluring, the bar, looked on in resignation. We carved out a chance when the otherwise poor Okocha sent through our man-of-the-match Garcia, who wastefully wafts his shot wide.

Moments later Windass produced a knackered-looking airshot at a decent shooting opportunity, and followed it up moments later by thumping a shot well wide from 20 yards.

Not that this should have be construed as a meaningful fightback. Preston always looked approximately one trillion times more threatening, and with the game almost over another cross and another unmarked White made it 3-0. Dire.

What to say? This was every bit as poor as we’ve seen all season, and indeed at any point since our return to the Old Second Division. Not necessarily the football; even teams at the top of the table play can play poorly. What rankles is the lack of heart, the absence of belief that we can rescue a game despite knowing only too well we were hardly playing Real Madrid.

Poor performances littered the pitch. Myhill was uncertain and made poor decisions. Both full-backs (though particularly Delaney) were slothful in preventing crosses. Brown had probably his worst game for City; Turner too had an off day. The captain need not detain us too long, we already know he is not good enough at this level. Marney looked tired and had his worst match for some weeks. McPhee offered little; Garcia was our best player by a distance probably visible from space, and can still consider himself to have played averagely at best. The forwards tried, but did little what the scraps they were offered. And Mr Brown? A few questionable selections, although in mitigation a manager should show loyalty to his players, and he is. But it appeared that things needed changing a little, and this sadly wasn’t forthcoming.

Saturday takes us to Southampton, a daunting trek for those unfortunate enough to be at Deepdale. Livermore for Ashbee; Hughes for McPhee; Folan for Deano; a new left-back in January please, Mr Brown. Ta. And we’ll put this dismal evening as just one of those days. (AD)