March « 2008 « Amber Nectar

March 30, 2008

MATCH REPORT – City 3 Watford 0

The Championship – Saturday 29th March 2008

“We were beaten by the better team… They outclassed us.”

So said Aidy Boothroyd, who really should have grown out of using that christian name when he was 12. He’s right though. And that quote could have been attributed to Ian Holloway, Geraint Williams, Nigel Pearson or any number of Championship managers in the past few months. We don’t just beat teams, we humiliate them, we batter them, we bully them, we demoralise them, and, yes, we almost always outclass them.

Lining up for the latest of the biggest games in our history were Myhill, Ricketts, Dawson, Brown, Turner, Ashbee, Marney, Pedersen, Garcia, Windass and that loanee chap. The bench presented the 23,500 fans at the KC with a happy sight too. Matt Duke returned from his health scare to take his reserve goalkeeper duties. Alongside him were Walton, Hughes, Fagan and the unlucky Folan. In opposition, Watford lined up Lee, DeMerit, one-time Tiger target Bromby, Shittu, Sadler, Smith, Williamson, Bangura, McAnuff, Ellington and the comically bad Kabba. Their bench consisted of the brave Mart Poom, Stewart, Mariappa, John and Ainsworth.

The weather was wet and windy as Watford kicked off, and then we scored. Nerves? We don’t really do them; we just get on with winning games. Garcia was fouled, Marney curled in the free-kick from our right and Michael Turner, the god-like Michael Turner, rose to power a header past Lee’s right hand. This was what Watford were supposed to be good at, but within 45 seconds we’d already demonstrated that it doesn’t matter what teams are going to try to do to us, we’ll simply match their strengths and exploit their weaknesses.

A minute later Watford almost equalised when Jay DeMerit headed narrowly wide from a corner, but this was to be Watford’s sole contribution to the first half-hour other than a series of long throws by Leigh Bromby. How have they maintained a promotion push with so little guile and attacking flair? No matter, if this performance was anything to go by, it’s two from four for promotion. Normal service was soon restored as City started stroking the ball around to good effect. An Ashbee surge forward was only spoilt when our leader overkicked into Lee’s grateful arms; Garcia seemed to have hypnotised left-back Bromby into giving away cheap free-kicks as and when he desired; and Campbell and Marney were giving Watford’s defence all sorts of headaches.

It was no surprise when we doubled our lead on 13 minutes. Marney crossed in, Shittu cleared, Pedersen volleyed goalwards and Campbell directed the ball home. Thousands of text messages descended upon the KC with words to the effect of “Fuck me, you’re going up”.

The rest of the first half saw City in control while never really getting out of second gear. Bookings to Campbell and Brown – both correctly issued by a strangely competent Uriah Rennie – will hopefully not come back to haunt us later in the season, but Watford had been every bit as wretched as Southampton, Colchester and Leicester had in recent weeks. The long throws were being expertly marshalled by Turner, Brown and Myhill and only the tricky McAnuff posed the problems that we’d been expecting.

If City were lapsing into complacency, an outstanding save from Myhill on 42 minutes woke us up. A McAnuff volley from just outside the area saw Myhill at full stretch to keep the two goal lead going into the interval. Tellingly it was the first time Myhill’s palms had been stung since his wonder save from a Colchester corner roughly 180 minutes of football ago. Our defence is as good as it has been in decades.

Half-time then, and an air of disbelief was descending on the KC. Watford would have the wind and rain at the backs in the second half, but we were better than them. The game looked anything but a promotion fight.

As expected, Watford came at us in the second half. After Dawson had gone close with a decent shot, Watford pressed. Both Windass and Ashbee were labouring a little and Pedersen wasn’t having his finest of spells, all of which was giving Watford a little more space in midfield than they should have been afforded. On 53, another long throw into City’s box saw the ball fall to McAnuff just three yards out. It was a goal, quite simply. Watford fans were already celebrating when Ricketts, the finest right-back in the history of Hull City Football Club, somehow got in a last-ditch tackle that any defender in the world would have a giant, full-colour still of framed above their mantlepiece, assuming footballers still have mantlepieces. Ricketts doesn’t quite get the praise he deserves sometimes, particularly for his defensive contribution, but if we do go up, I’m sure that a new right-back will not be on Duffen and Brown’s shopping list. If we don’t, we may struggle to keep Sam. He’d grace any team outside the top four in the Premiership.

Watford responded to this spell of pressure by making a double substitution. DeMerit and Bangura came off to be replaced by Mariappa and number 39 Lionel Ainsworth, who sounds like he wrote musicals in the 1950s but was to treat the East Stand to the most abysmal example of wing play that the KC has ever seen, worse than Damien Delaney’s attempt at playing on the left wing against Sunderland 18 months ago. If a cross could be over-hit, a run mistimed, a ball tripped over, Ainsworth was your man.

Watford were still looking the most likely to score though, and on 57 minutes Boaz Myhill reminded us of why he is one of the best keepers outside the Premiership. A goalmouth scramble saw the ball fall to former Rotherham midfielder Lee Williamson, who hit the ball goalwards. Myhill dived to his left to pull off an incredible save. This was going to be our day. This is going to be our season. Phil Brown responded by replacing Windass, who looked tired but had done his usual job of getting through all the ugly stuff that helps Campbell to shine, with Caleb Folan.

Have you ever been a substitute? Most of you will have been at some point. And you’ll know that when you come on, no matter how good your warm up has been, the cold air scorches your lungs, your first touch takes seven or eight attempts to come, the pace of the game mystifies you, your timing is out. I only mention this because it helps to emphasise what a player Folan is. Within seconds of coming on his off-the-ball running and link-play created a chance for Pedersen that the Scandinavian should probably have done better with and which Campbell then forced a save from. Ten minutes later, as Watford continued to exert the pressure, the outstanding Marney played the ball forward to Campbell as we counter-attacked. Campbell then hooked the ball forward to Folan who outpaced the Watford defence, which tried by fair means or foul to stop him, and slid the ball coolly past Lee. Three-nil up and the third time Folan has come off the bench and put a game to bed in the space of three games. A bargain at a million pounds.

It is also worth highlighting the role of Marney in all three goals. Marney may be something of an enigma, but with a decent run of games and a bit of confidence behind him – as he now has – he is as close as we’ve had to the complete midfielder since Garry Parker inflicted that haircut on the Boothferry faithful. His return to form and return to the starting XI has given us a swagger that we have otherwise lacked. He has been the difference between the scrappy wins in the start of our good run over the likes of Wednesday, Wolves, Coventry and Plymouth, and the battering we are now inflicting on anyone who has the gall to stand in our way.

Any lingering hope Watford had of getting back into the game was effectively killed off within a couple of minutes of the restart as Steve Kabba was given a straight red for a late challenge on Ricketts. The decision looked harsh, and it is to be hoped that Watford get the decision overturned so that Kabba can continue to help screw up their promotion campaign.

The game then petered out, with chances falling to Pedersen and Campbell. However, Michael Turner did have the chance to cement his position as the new Maldini. On 88 minutes he twice threw himself in the way of goalbound Watford shots. No one was going to take his clean sheet away from him today. Sadly the City fans – who had wisely ignored the sheets of paper asking them to sing our new ‘anthem’ (a remedial six-year-old’s reworking of Annie’s Song) – started a chant of “Another clean sheet for Myhill”. That’s rubbish, and it took a bit of the shine off a wonderful win.

A couple of substitions allowed Campbell and Ash to get the ovations they so richly deserved and gave Hughes and Fagan some pitch time. Ash wasn’t 100% but his presence is priceless at the moment. Who’d have thought a year ago I’d have been able to type that when he was shrugging his way through a 3-0 defeat at Barnsley?

The final whistle came with a few groans amid the applause as news of late goals for Bristol City and West Brom kept things in the top five tight. But Stoke still have to play Bristol and West Brom come up against Watford (after an FA Cup semi-final and a Black Country derby against a resurgent Wolves). I wouldn’t swap our position with anyone right now.

A quick word, if I may, for Wayne Brown. If he wasn’t match fit today, it didn’t show. Some City fans have had the odd dig at Brown when praising Neil Clement. Clement was, undoubtedly, excellent for us, but the restoration of TurnerBrown today looked cool, composed, tough, brave and well organised. Brown may shank the odd clearance into touch, but the way he organises his troops, never panics and generally is in the right place at the right time means we are a better team with him in our starting XI. It was telling that when Ash went off he gave the captain’s armband to Turner. There was only two minutes left, and it didn’t really matter who wore it. However, Turner ran straight to give it to Brown. We have many leaders on the pitch, but Brown’s effect on the team goes beyond that. His defensive marshalling means that Ash doesn’t have to worry about the back four as much and can concentrate on his own game. Which, as we’ve all seen, is flourishing.

So, two weeks off now. We’ve not really been that fluent on our immediate return from our previous breaks but with just five games left it will probably do us good to take stock and have a rest. In truth, for large chunks of today’s game we weren’t as slick as we’ve been in previous weeks. There are mitigating factors for that: the weather, the need to outbully a team of bullies, and the amount of players carrying knocks. QPR in a fortnight’s time can’t come quickly enough though. We owe them a proper battering. The bastards. (Richard Gardham)

Filed under: Match Reports — Les @ 7:51 pm

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March 19, 2008

MATCH REPORT – Colchester 1 City 3

The Championship – Tuesday 18th March 2008

The game is 33 minutes old and we already lead 1-0, when Henrik Pedersen nips ahead of a Colchester player to poke the ball to Fraizer Campbell. Two quaking defenders stand between him and the goal – one runs away, the other falls over as Campbell’s fleet-footed turn of direction embarrasses him. The left-footed shot from 15 yards is low, hard and accurate; the keeper stands motionless, the ball flies in, and City lead 2-0.

A flash of instinctive genius in a stadium unaccustomed to witnessing them, and indeed served up in front of a band of City supporters who’ve hardly been spoiled in this regard over the years. The goal was celebrated fervently, and Fraizer Campbell beamed at us with an endearingly impish look, and another win and another terrific moment to treasure from this remarkable young player was ours.

Saturday saw the grimmest day of this season avenged, and this was our chance to put right the wrongest wrong of last season, inna Quantum Leap stylee. Phil Brown welcomed Jay Jay Okocha and Caleb Folan back into the squad and promptly put them on benchwarming duties as the City manager quite rightly kept faith with the XI that obliterated Southampton on Saturday: Myhill; Ricketts, Turner, Clement, Dawson; Garcia, Ashbee (c), Marney, Pedersen; Windass, Campbell.

Two more City players added international interests to their CVs this week – Boaz Myhill being called up for the Welsh national side and Fraizer Campbell being invited to join the England U21s. It’s not hard to see why – as the Championship’s form team, we’re becoming harder to overlook. And as we lined up attacking a splendid midweek following from East Yorkshire, it was clear there’d be no repeats of the hideous events of November 2006.

Interestingly (or maybe not) the same referee was on duty as in our last meeting at Layer Road, Mr P Miller. He was a busy fellow in the opening minutes, as Colchester’s dismal hurt-Fraizer-Campbell-and-we-may-get-a-draw strategy was executed with great zeal, Adam Virgo being the first to give it a go. He was cautioned; Deano fired the resulting free-kick narrowly wide.

On 14 minutes came a pivotal moment – Campbell exchanged passes with Ashbee and scampered after the through-ball when Paul Ifill kicked him. No attempt at the ball, which was fully five yards away, he simply kicked his opponent. The City fans howled with anger at this blatant assault, and justice was swiftly done when Ifill was given a red card.

Surprisingly, it must be said. A caution was the bare minimum for the technical aspect of the offence: purposefully halting a promising attack. However, the deliberate and cynical nature of Ifill’s illegal intervention, and the imperative to protect the best player on the pitch from the wanton thuggery of outclassed adversaries, persuaded Mr Miller into issuing harsher sanctions. Good on him (and we’ll even overlook his mystifying caution on Fraizer a minute later, and subsequently puzzling display).

City swiftly capitalised, and Ashbee should have opened the scoring when lashing the rebound from his own saved header over the crossbar. The Tigers were in complete control however, and we finally took the lead on twenty minutes. Windass nicked the ball to the lurking Campbell, whose first time shot was blocked by home keeper Gerken – however, it fell back to Fraizer, who managed to bobble the ball past the prone netminder and into the goal. We roared in triumph.

Colchester buckled – the next ten minutes were all City as we piled men forward in search of more goals. A thrilling sight to watch your team so focussed upon attack away from home. And finally the second came, it was a wonderful goal, and we rubbed our hands in glee at the thought of handing out another serious pasting.

Whereupon, err, Colchester scored, the cheeky swines. From our dire vantage point it was impossible to discern quite what happened other than that Lisbie had hit a crisp low shot past Wales’ Number One – slack defending perhaps? But a good finish.

With half-time approaching City should have scored another, but Windass headed wastefully wide after some excellent work by the tireless Marney. Mr Miller’s interesting evening took a surreal turn when he booked Matt Heath after a clumsy foul on Garcia by another Colchester player. Perhaps unsurprisingly, perplexed looks abounded.

Colchester came close to an equaliser with a header that was cleared off the line as City wavered for the first time in the evening, but there was no further action before the break.

The Us are leaving Layer Road this summer for a new identikit stadium at Cuckoo Farm. Not a moment too soon, even though the facilities offered by Colchester United are unlikely to concern us at any point in the near future. Layer Road is not some charming old-fashioned football stadium, evocatively harking back to days gone by. It is a shit-tip. The view from all parts of the away terrace are absolutely terrible, and unless you stand at the very front it is impossible to see anything in the six yard area – yet the rake is so poor that even standing at the back means the far end is a swirl of confusion. Best of all a grand total of three toilets are provided, once you’ve battled through the throng to reach them.

Not that the rest of the ground is much better. A bank of temporary seating under a marquee offers a different but equally terrible view for away fans; the rest is a hotch-potch of standing areas, some only part-covered, and tiny seated areas. And the atmosphere is invariably dire owing to the ground’s design. It’s fair to say that few people will miss Layer Road, which was marking its final floodlit game against the Tigers.

But at least it was hosting a decent game of football, as Colchester came out for the second half determined to secure at least a point and some pride from the burning wreckage of their season. Oddly, Phil Brown appeared to have instructed his charges to adopt a more circumspect approach, which resulted in Colchester seeing plenty of possession, although with Turner and Clement looking resolute at the back they fashioned few clear openings.

Indeed, it was City who came closest to scoring when a rasping header by Michael Turner struck the underside of the bar and bounced to safety, and another chance fell our way when Pedersen fastened on a through ball and shot directly at Gerken. He parried the ball out but it fell to Ashbee, whose low shot was quite brilliantly gathered by the home keeper.

Home manager Geraint Williams, reputedly the real reason Phil Parkinson led Colchester to unprecedented, made his first switch on the hour as Izzet was brought off in favour of Anthony Wordsworth – a few minutes later, Phil Brown responded by taking off the heavy-legged Pedersen for the zippy influence of Bryan Hughes. Smart move.

The game was chugging along a little lumpily now, with Colchester lacking the class (and numbers) to break us down, while City seemed content to play on the break. A Dean Marney free-kick, competently clasped by Gerken, was a rare moment of action in the middle part of the half.

Some more substitutions were made – Vernon and Balogh replaced Platt and Duguid for them, while the mighty Caleb trotted on in place of Deano, milking the applause from the away end in that irresistibly cocky fashion of his.

And now time for us to seal it. Three minutes from the end, Dean Marney collected the ball in midfield, ten yards inside his own half. He slid a delightful pass through the static home defence that Folan latched onto, Gerken dashed out of his box just in time to watch the City striker skip merrily past him and pass the ball into the open goal from 22 yards.

Much rejoicing – job done, game over, three more points. There was still time for Richard Garcia to rattle the frame of the goal with a crashing effort, and although a fourth would have been harsh on Colchester, there was no doubting that the better team had won, and won well.

At full time, the City players came over to bask in our enthusiastic acclaim (and possibly to spot their chairman, hidden away in the seated area). We can all now sense the possibility of something very special. This victory takes us five points clear of the team in seventh – and, whisper it oh-so-quietly lest the gods hear us and punish our insolence, but we’re now only five behinds behind the automatic promotion places.

Heady days, heady times. The next game can’t come quickly enough. The ride may only just be beginning. (AD)

Filed under: Match Reports — Andy @ 7:49 pm

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March 16, 2008

MATCH REPORT – City 5 Southampton 0

The Championship – Saturday 15th March 2008

The date: Saturday 8^th December
The time: 9pm
The location: the M1
The reason: Southampton 4-0 City

Remember that? Ugh.

The mood that swept the Tiger Nation following our pounding at St Marys was a sombre one indeed. Our second pasting on the road inside four days sent us down to 14^th, with nervous glances being cast at the bottom three. Such was the epic scale of our defeat at Southampton that Phil Brown felt moved to offer an apology and a promise that he’d put things right. We can safely conclude that he has been true to his word.

It could be argued that the capitulation on the South Coast has ultimately benefited our season. We’ve only lost three times in the League since that day, playing a brand of attractive football that has seen us soar to fifth in the table, and with the season drawing to a close, our push for promotion may have its origins in the darkest day of the season.

The Tigers made a couple of changes to the side that laboured to defeat at Cardiff on Wednesday – Dean Windass and Neil Clement coming in for the injured duo of Craig Fagan and Wayne Brown as the City manager sent out the anticipated XI of: Myhill; Ricketts, Turner, Clement, Dawson; Garcia, Ashbee (c), Marney, Pedersen; Windass, Campbell. On the bench were Tyler, Walton, France, Hughes and Bridges.

Southampton boss Nigel Pearson made a single change to the team that gained an important midweek win over Leicester, Andrew Surman being replaced Darren Powell. Vincent Pericard, a recent loan arrival from Stoke, was on the bench.

City began the game attacking the South Stand, our pitch appearing a trifle worn after herds of fat rugby bastards had stampeded all over in the previous night, although it played better than it looked. There was also a light mist gently drifting in the direction of the small pocket of Southampton fans – but in keeping with our recent habit of starting games at a fearful pace, the action was mostly away from them. Fraizer Campbell had a couple of very early chances, a shot from the edge of the area flying narrowly over and a header that flew wide, though McGoldrick should have scored for Southampton in between those efforts, his free header wastefully directed straight at Myhill.

Moments later, we led. A sumptuous long pass from Dean Marney found Campbell haring into empty space – Saints keeper Michael Poke made an ill-advised attempt to reach the ball before the fleet-footed Campbell, who calmly knocked the ball past him with his left foot and the ball gently bounced in. A great piece of vision by Marney; an assured finish by a stupendously talented striker, and just six minutes into the game Southampton’s task become immeasurably harder.

Campbell, the Shane Warne to Southampton’s English tail-ender, had a penalty appeal waved away by referee Eddie Ilderton after a Saints defender appear to take his legs away in the area, before the away side had a rare foray into Tiger territory, one from which they should have equalised as Euell fed the ball to Stern John, whose weak shot went straight to Myhill.

Next up, Pedersen blasted a thirty-yarder wide, Turner headed a rebound slightly over, and then Southampton had a “goal” disallowed for offside – John thumping a shot into the corner of the goal, but the whistle had already gone at the linesman’s behest, though it appeared to be a very tight call.

Despite this momentary alarm, the force remained decisively with the Tigers, and some dangerous Dawson corners (and how his delivery has improved in recent weeks) caused significant anxiety among the Southampton defence and particularly their goalkeeper, how now appeared to be sporting a slight limp. However, Southampton survived this and the extra minute of injury time, and the Tigers trotted off to contented applause at the break.

Upon emerging from the concourse at half-time, it was obvious that the weather had worsened considerably during the interval. The mist that had lingered all day had thickened appreciably, with the visibility from one end of the ground to the other probably quite poor. And soon, the Southampton fans peering through the gloom must have prayed for a foggy abandonment, as City went berserk in the second half.

Nigel Pearson had given Pericard his Soton debut, withdrawing McGoldrick in favour of him, but he barely touched the ball as the Tigers swarmed forward in search of a decisive second. Nine minutes into the half, it duly arrived.

A long throw from Ricketts caused panic in the visitors’ defence, and the lurking Pedersen stabbed the ball into the roof of the net from close range.

The celebrations had barely died down when City scored a third – a superb cross from the by Dean Marney finding the head of Michael Turner, who meatily thumped the ball into the goal for the second home game in succession.

Game over. Southampton were a totally beaten side, their spirits sapped by the hopelessness of their position and the thoroughly outclassing they’d received. City sensed it too, and began knocking the ball ostentatiously, a little well-deserved showing off creeping in.

Presumably with Tuesday night’s trip to Colchester in mind, Dean Windass came off after an hour for Bryan Hughes, Southampton swapped Licka for Gillett, Garcia tested Poke’s agility with a crashing drive, and we exulted cheerfully as the game sauntered along.

Dean Marney was having perhaps his best afternoon in a City shirt, directing play in the way we all hoped we would, and he got the goal his performance deserved after 65 minutes. Campbell was (of course) involved, and as he tussled for possession the ball for the City midfielder about 22 yards from goal. He belted it with glorious technique, and it fizzed past Poke’s outstretched right palm into the goal. A wonderful finish – and satisfyingly, we’d already avenged the scoreline in Southampton.

With twenty minutes left, Ryan France came on for Henrik Pedersen, the outstanding Dane afforded tumultuous applause for another superb shift on the left. Few chances were now coming, with Southampton able only to implement damage limitation and City more than happy with their afternoon’s work, and the match adopted a pattern of City controlling possession and territory without being able to fashion too many opportunities.

With 13 minutes left, the Tigers made their third and final switch, introducing Michael Bridges for Richard Garcia – Bridges’ first appearance in a City shirt since September following his well-publicised differences with the manager. Obviously, a four-goal lead inspires a sense of forgiveness in Phil Brown.

He nearly scored too, when the omnipresent Marney burst free, chipped Poke and found Bridges, but his shot struck the right-hand post of a totally empty goal, although the angle did appear a tight one. Boaz Myhill was then called upon for almost the first time in the half, and he made a world-class save to foil Euell, flinging himself across goal and diverting the ball over with his left hand.

With the game in injury time, City finally scored the fifth. Bridges will claim the assist, as the Tigers poured forward in overwhelming numbers, Marney also involved, and eventually Bridges fed Hughes in space. He immediately curled the ball with his weaker right foot into the top corner via a feeble attempt at intervention by Poke, and the rout was complete.

Wow. This was a City masterclass, a display to treasure, the complete performance, a Premiership-quality display. It’s impossible to praise it too highly. Throughout the entire side, the side were magnificent. Myhill was uncommonly dominant in claiming the ball and made a stunning save to cap his display; Ricketts and Dawson add attacking threat to their solid defending; Turner and Clement were unbreachable; Ashbee was excellent in possession and even better in attaining it; Marney was wholly successful in every midfield discipline; Pedersen is a Premiership player; Garcia was our quietest performer and had a poor first half but can still look back at satisfaction with a significant second half improvement; Windass was slyly effect; Fraizer Campbell may very well be the best player in the history of the club.

What is becoming increasingly apparent is that may be the best City side in its history. Fifth in the second tier, and greedily eyeing the top flight with serious intent, we stand on the brink of breaking one of football’s most notorious ducks.

Another series of helpful results means we proudly sit in fifth place, now a couple of points clear of seventh…and Tuesday provides our priceless game in hand at Colchester, doomed at the bottom, relegation certainties, hopefully now the owners of some drizzle-proof grass – and if this thrashing avenged the low point of this season, our last ever trip to Layer Road affords the opportunity to remedy the blackest day of last season, and to firmly embed ourselves in the top six. I can’t wait. (AD)

Filed under: Match Reports — Andy @ 7:48 pm

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March 9, 2008

MATCH REPORTS – City 2 Scunthorpe 0

The Championship – Saturday 8th March 2008

City are sixth in the Championship with ten games left to play, and have a game in hand on many of the top ten.

With the possible exception of “I was momentarily distracted by events on the pitch by Claudia Schiffer nibbling seductively on my ear” or “I watched a really exciting game of rugby last night”, seven months ago that’s probably the sentence I least expected to feature in a City match report this season.

Yet it is true, for our second successive 2-0 victory on home soil has given our promotion push the mark of authenticity that comes from finally moving into the top six. With less than a quarter of this compelling season remaining, a post-season crack at promotion is now ours to lose.

Crumbs.

With Dean Windass still unfit and Caleb Folan suspended, the surprise – but welcome – return to East Yorkshire of Craig Fagan meant he made his first appearance at the Circle since scoring in a 2-0 win over Burnley at the end of 2006. Jay Jay Okocha, also in the naughty corner since his midweek antics, was replaced by Dean Marney as the Tigers fielded the expected XI of: Myhill; Ricketts, TurnerBrown, Dawson; Garcia, Ashbee (c), Marney, Pedersen; Fagan, Campbell. On the bench for City were Tyler, Clement, Walton, France and Bridges.

It was a curious affair from the off. Scunthorpe had brought about 2,000 fans for cup final day, yet they were puzzlingly placid through. All meekly seated, barely raising a whimper – perhaps the sheer sense of occasion was too much for them?

It was somewhat better from the Tiger Nation as our first 20,000+ gate of the season contributed to a much improved atmosphere. Of course, City’s total dominance helped. One pleasing feature of our home matches is the consistency with which an aggressive start is made. This was no different, and attacking the North Stand with the breeze at our backs the visitors were swiftly placed under pressure.

First to test Scunthorpe keeper Joe Murphy was Andy Dawson, half-heartedly jeered by some Scunts as he took a free-kick 25 yards out that required a diving save to keep out. Phil Brown had presumably directed his charges to take short corners aplenty throughout the game, and from the corner won by Dawson Ashbee powered a header at Murphy – a foot either side and he’d have scored.

Still we pressed, and two instances of flowing football on either flank saw Marney and Campbell play delightful balls across the Scunthorpe six-yard box. How we yearned for the predatory instincts of Deano as both went unconverted.

Scunthorpe finally made it into our penalty area with twenty minutes on the clock, when a Ben May cross was headed wastefully wide by the unimpressive Chelsea loanee Jack Cork. The failure of our South Bank friends to take this chance would prove immensely costly as City took the lead a few minutes later.

A Ricketts dragback was thudded at goal by Fagan, and although Murphy made a great save to keep the ball out he was helpless as the lurking Pedersen neatly headed the ball into the empty goal.

Scunthorpe were flattened, a side in disarray, not merely resigned to their fate but appearing to actively embrace it. The Tigers appeared to become legal owners of the ball, using it thoughtfully and incisively to move Scunthorpe’s defence into positions it clearly didn’t wish to be in. Yet, the game’s second and final goal came from a corner eight minutes before the break, Dawson’s splendid delivery finding Turner who gleefully powered a thumping header past Murphy for his second goal of the season.

Game over, if it wasn’t already. City pushed for a third goal as the match became even more comically one-sided – however, for the second time in four days the players went off at the break to thunderous acclaim after opening up a decisive two-goal lead.

So, how to approach the second half? Such was the gulf in class that a five/six goal rout was eminently achievable had City ruthlessly pursued it. Scunthorpe manager Nigel Adkins evidently decided that further humiliation was best avoided by doing anything as foolish as chasing the game, and with Phil Brown adopting a sensible (if slightly disappointing, from a post-game chortling perspective) approach of gently closing the game down and conserving energy for the midweek trip to Cardiff, the second half was less eventful affair.

Dawson belted a shot wide, May hit one even wider, Pedersen nearly latched onto a long throw, May missed again (a real lower league striker, this one), Fagan hit one over…but it was all slightly lackadaisical stuff.

Adkins fruitlessly shuffled his side, introducing Weston for McCann and later Forte for Morris, but no-one inside the Circle expected this to make any difference. It didn’t. The energetic Marney brought a splendid save from Murphy, appearing to push the ball onto his right hand post.

The chunky-looking Geoff Horsfield lumbered into the fray for Goodwin, and as the game entered the final few minutes City made a brace of changes, Walton for the outstanding Pedersen and France for the ever-excellent Garcia. A few minutes later, the mis-match was finally ended by the unfussy Mark Halsey.

Well. It’s hard to know how well City played given the pitiful standard of the opposition. Scunthorpe are probably the worst team we’ve faced this season, and this big day out could be their last for some time. However, the efficiency with which they were dispatched showed real strength and maturity from the Tigers.

Once more, powerful displays abounded. Only Myhill, who didn’t have a single shot to save, had a less than splendid game. The defence looked quite imperious in repelling the handful of sorties launched against it; Garcia, Marney and Ashbee worked tirelessly and thoughtfully – the latter in particular having yet another critic-confoundingly excellent afternoon. Pedersen is clearly a cut above at this level, and is one of the most composed and methodical players this observer has ever seen in a City shirt. Up front, Fagan looked a trifle short of fitness, while Campbell had his quietest game for a few weeks, and was still terrific.

And now we lie in sixth place, behind a misfiring Charlton only on goal difference, and with that game in hand against doomed Colchester still to come, a match from which we’re unlikely to emerge empty-handed. We’re in a position of real strength now, and our surge will hopefully prove to be perfectly timed.

This is a wonderful City team. Debates rage over whether it is the best of all-time. No conclusive argument can be made for the class of 1910, the mid-60s vintage, or the present-day Tigers, yet. However, as we continue our march up the table and inch closer to a shot at the top flight, the current squad has a chance of earning itself the label of Greatest Ever City Team by guiding us to the promised land. (AD)

Filed under: Match Reports — Andy @ 7:46 pm

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March 5, 2008

MATCH REPORT – City 2 Burnley 0

The Championship – Tuesday 4th March 2008

A game which had everything? Aye. Scintillating one-sided first half? Check. Crazy goalkeeping error? Check. Ridiculous wonder goal which the KC has never seen the like of before? Check. Spate of bizarre red cards? Check. City won the game, but at a price.

The risk of having three-match bans increased due to the authorities’ definition of “frivolity” means that Phil Brown may not bother appealing the two straight reds dished out to Caleb Folan (angry) and Jay Jay Okocha (baffled). Mike Riley (“you’re rubbish Riley, get back to the Premier League” shouted one Utter Idiot With No Sense Of Logic near me) was our official, and as he stopped Okocha attacking down our right flank because a Burnley player had been decked within the reach of the Folan elbow, we can assume he saw everything and got it right – not that Folan saw it that way and angrily protested his innocence until his skipper advised him it was futile. But the Okocha incident – were there ever one – was most odd.

The ball was dead as Burnley prepared to take a corner, and suddenly a claret-clad being was writhing around in agony after undoubtedly being shot by Okocha, who is of course renowned for taking a .22 automatic on to the pitch which he hides under his left shinpad. Referee saw nothing, the linesman saw nothing (he wasn’t flagging) yet somehow the two unsighted officials managed to convince each other that Okocha must have clumped the Burnley player (I don’t care who it was) and out came another straight red. Incredulity from everyone. Players, manager, supporters. I doubt the Burnley players – even the thespian still clutching his face in the foetal position – had much idea of what was transpiring either.

A tiny amount of sugar was added to the soured cake by the fact that Burnley cocked up any hopes of a manpower-related comeback by having two of their own dismissed – for straightforward second bookable offences – in the seconds after each of City’s red cards. Stephen Caldwell hacked through Fraizer Campbell, while Joey Gudjonsson seemed to speak out of turn twice in quick succession for Mr Riley’s liking in the moment after Okocha had ambled down the tunnel. Burnley.

Fools. See also Burnley – outplayed. The first half was mesmerising. City, fielding the XI which started at West Brom (Turner and Okocha restored; Marney and Clement on the bench) created chance after chance, passed crisply, chased everything, closed down, won fierce but fair tackles and generally gave the Burnley fans even more cause to be annoyed, as an appendix to the knowledge that a 10pm A63 closure meant they were going back across the country via a 20mph diversion through North Ferriby.

Folan swatted wide an open chance after Campbell’s challenge on hateable Burnley keeper Brian Jensen (he always seems too concerned about his appearance to me). Okocha hit the roof of the net with a swerving free kick. City embarked on a heart-gladdening spell of total football, aided by Burnley’s lack of patience on the ball and consequent tendency to hand possession back. The lead was acquired when Campbell, at an angle, fizzed a low shot through a crowd of players towards goal. Jensen should have had it – indeed, he seemed to for a split second – but the ball unrepentantly evaded his total grasp and snuck over the line.

Then Garcia, following Campbell’s example from the West Brom game by ignoring a man to his right, belted a magnificent 30 yarder beyond Jensen’s palm to bring the freezing but enthralled KC crowd to its feet. A wonder goal and more. Folan’s dodgy control let him down as he burst through one on one after gorgeous interplay between Okocha and Ricketts, and Jensen smothered both man and ball. Campbell shot across goal from a scrummy Okocha reverse pass. Henrik Pedersen, who had a superb night, then whizzed in a delectable cross which evaded Campbell’s sprint ‘n’ stretch by a stud length. The rapturous handclaps rang through the players’ ears as the half time whistle shrilled. What a first half display. Before the officiating insanity commenced, City were still on top, though Burnley had become more taut and only Andy Dawson, with a low, rainbow-shaped free kick, tested Jensen’s grip.

The two cards for Folan and Caldwell then came out, and Burnley almost took heart from the disruption with Andrew Cole hitting the bar with a close-range header. It was the nearest they’d come. Okocha then went, followed swiftly by Gudjonsson, and once Campbell was subbed, it was Pedersen who went up front in an obviously unorthodox 4-3-1 formation, aided by the fresher legs of subs Ryan France and Dean Marney, the latter of whom will now have much on his shoulders as a certain starter against Scunthorpe. The game was blessed with wide open spaces now, clearly, but Burnley had long given up and City were playing out the seconds.

The cards had killed the whole occasion off, but as City were winning and comfortable, it scarcely mattered. Already we could think about what the hell we’d do up front against Scunthorpe with Folan suspended and both Windass and Barmby injured. To give Mike Riley some slack, he probably got Folan right.

He certainly got the two Burnley dismissals right. Okocha’s marching orders were, however, decided upon through most surreal methods and only if the video shows absolute evidence of contact and intent should City not appeal. City’s position remains largely unaltered; just outside the play-offs with a game in hand, and a cup final for the primitive, simple people of Scunthorpe next. March really is going to make or break us.

Filed under: Match Reports — Les @ 7:45 pm

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March 1, 2008

MATCH REPORT – Leicester 0 City 2

The Championship – Saturday 22nd March 2008

I believe. I finally do unquestioningly believe. Not that we will do it – City’s history of underachievement is simply too lengthy for such surety. No; what I now believe that we can.

Not that your humble correspondent is alone in developing this ‘feeling’. Over two thousand City fans squeezed into a corner of Leicester’s Walkers Stadium surely felt the same thing. You can’t define it, you can’t explain it, it doesn’t even have a name, but you know it when it arrives. It was last seen around these parts in March 2005.

Phil Brown unsurprisingly stuck with the same XI that pulverised Southampton and cantered past Colchester in the preceding week, as we once again carded the eminently well-balanced 4-4-2 formation staffed thus: Myhill; Ricketts, Turner, Clement, Dawson; Garcia, Ashbee (c), Marney, Pedersen; Windass, Campbell.

Leicester had recorded a stunning and very helpful 4-1 win at West Brom the week before, but their parlous position in the table had prompted their clownish chairman to unveil an offer of reduced ticket prices in the hope of inspiring their clownish manager Ian Holloway’s charges to lift themselves from danger. That didn’t quite work, but 30,374 people levered themselves into the ground, not too far from capacity. An impressive attendance, whatever the reason for it.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the most boisterous lot, although we can testify that a grim predicament hardly lends itself to fearsome noise-making. “Apprehensive” is maybe the most apt description of their collective mood. The Tiger Nation, strong in number and solid in voice, was stationed in the left-hand corner of the stand we attacked in the first half – and it was swiftly clear that one side was considerably superior to the other.

Dean Windass had the afternoon’s first sight on goal, firing a free-kick a little over Paul Henderson’s crossbar, and with the pattern of the game continuing to favour City, Fraizer Campbell came close to scoring yet again when a neat ball by Deano found him in space – however, with pressure being applied by the covering Leicester defenders, his shot squirmed narrowly wide.

This opening salvo faded a little, and as snow showers and brilliant sunshine battled for supremacy, and with a pitch that looked tired and bare, the football was not the silkiest from either side. Leicester began to gain a foothold in the game, firing a few crosses in that Clement and Turner comfortably contained, and having withstood this momentary flurry City restored order with the excellent Henderson intervening to foil Garcia and Windass (twice).

Leicester did fashion a great chance for themselves when the lacklustre Garcia was cautioned for a foul which presented Lee Hendrie with the opportunity to cause alarm, but he was having a mediocre game and his delivery was poor, and the game seemed set to drift towards half-time without a goal.

Whereupon we scored in injury time – a Campbell centre was partially cleared to where Dean Marney was lurking, unmarked, twelve yards from goal. His instant volley wasn’t perfectly timed but it bounced into the turf and beyond the flailing right arm of Henderson to give us a just-about-deserved lead. We celebrated raucously – and delirium would have become utter bedlam had Dawson’s free-kick a minute later gone a foot higher and beat the flying Henderson.

Going to football in Leicester can be a curious experience. There’s nowhere to park – we handed over a fiver to a courteous fellow who cheerfully wished us good luck in fractured English. There aren’t many pubs – we sweet-talked our way into an establishment close to the ground that ordinarily takes a dim view of away fans. The ground is very utilitarian, and they require a half-naked man, morbidly obese, with a drum to spark any kind of noise. They didn’t even serve ale at half-time. It should be bad. It’s not great – but for some reason it’s better than it sounds. Perhaps our last couple of results here, and the thrilling season to date, are lending this cynic towards uncommonly magnanimity.

On with the football, and Holloway had made a change to his side during the interval, introducing Etuhu in favour of the labouring N’Gotty. The half opened cagily, with City understanding unwilling to extend themselves unduly having grabbed the lead, Leicester looking every inch the division’s joint-lowest scorers at home.

No small part of our secure demeanour is attributable to Ian Ashbee, undoubtedly in the form of his career. Now shorn of the need to provide all of the side’s vocal encouragement on the pitch with the arrival of Wayne Brown, he looks more comfortable simply playing his destructive game, scampering, scurrying, chasing, and recognising that other players can use the ball more potently than he can. His influence and importance is every bit as significant as it was this time four years ago, when we were battling our way out of the basement.

As such, it was a surprisingly bitter blow when he hobbled out of the action with 53 minutes on the clock. He had been a little off the pace for a few minutes and was finally withdrawn for Simon Walton, receiving thunderous applause as he departed.

Not that it fundamentally altered the direction of things. Leicester at times appeared to be playing a discordant 4-1-4-1, one of those formations on Championship Manager you just never ever chose, meaning that fluidity was always beyond them. A Steve Howard header that went anxiously close to the wrong side of Myhill’s post was the best they managed.

The home side’s star performer, Paul Henderson, was again called upon to keep their deficit to one with a smart save from a crashing Neil Clement shot, but midway through the half he found himself involved in a less positive way.

A nice ball slid through by Marney set Campbell haring free, Henderson charged out to meet him, and as the nimble footwork of the City forward managed to safely steer the ball beyond him he was wiped out on the edge of the area. Referee Beeby showed a yellow card to the Leicester keeper, the correct decision with enough doubt surrounding Campbell’s direction and possible defensive cover.

Dean Marney stepped up to take the penalty and possibly win the game…we held our breath…and the home fans roared with delight as his powerful shot was parried by Henderson and hacked to safety by a defender. A great save, but a bad penalty – the perfect height, nowhere near either corner of the goal, and we fretted upon the possible repercussions of this miss.

Shades of Colchester’s stop-Campbell strategy were beginning to show, and a thudding foul by Stearman on our hero saw him cautioned – regrettably, it succeeded where Colchester had failed, and Campbell limped gingerly off a couple of minutes, to be replaced by Caleb Folan. Leicester responded with a double substitution, the laughably over-rated DJ Campbell and Joe Mattock replacing Matt Fryatt and Jamie Clapham. Then the Mighty Caleb scored and the game was won.

It came in slightly familiar circumstances – his deceptive pace springing a rusty offside trap late in the game, and as a trio of blue-shirted sorts attempted to effect a last-ditch intervention, Folan side-footed a slightly mis-shot low past Henderson into the bottom corner.

One corner of the ground exploded – the rest of it began to empty as songs of triumph were sung, predictions of imminent and untold glory were cast, there was dancing and bouncing, and my word, did this little part of the Midlands feel like a fine place to be.

Little else happened. The game was over, despite thirteen minutes remaining at the time of Folan’s strike. The porcine drummer to our left – surely a source of considerable embarrassment for his peers? – was invited to join in the singing. He grumpily declined. He didn’t look the most energetic sort anyway.

Myhill was interestingly booked for timewasting, an act that would surely have been of greater benefit to Leicester’s beaten side, the unfortunately ineffective Garcia was replaced by France, and finally Mr Beeby signalled that the game was ours. There was enough time for a hush to descend as the stadium announcer read out the scores (another almost indecently favourable batch), and then the rejoicing recommenced.

This was a dominant and assured display. Leicester were certainly very poor, but to so wholly deprive any home side of a real chance for the whole game speaks volumes for our ruthless discipline, while at the other end the menace of our three attackers means that goals are always likely. Ten in three games, helping us to harvest the maximum nine points from the easiest part of our run-in, is a superb return.

City are now third in the second tier of English football, level with the highest finish in our history. Our haul is 65 points from 40 games, and our goal difference – formerly unimpressive – is now the division’s second best. We are now a very healthy six points clear of seventh-placed Ipswich. Missing out on the play-offs would require us taking fewer than a point a game from our remaining fixtures.

But…crumbs…an even more glittering prize is now being coveted. Once impossibly distant, automatic promotion is becoming a genuine goal. Two points cushion Bristol City from us, while leaders Stoke have but three. Of course, success for Watford and West Brom in the games in hand they hold over the rest of the pack will see us back in fifth. There’s a massive amount that’d require doing to finish second, probably entailing five wins from our last six games. And yet…

And yet there was that feeling in the air. We look invincible. We feel invincible. Our charge up the table feels beyond the power of anyone to halt. The old adage runs that once every year, someone comes from nowhere to claim a glorious prize. Might that finally be us? (AD)

Filed under: Match Reports — Andy @ 7:50 pm

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MATCH REPORT – Bristol City 2 City 1

The Championship – Saturday 1st March 2008

No-one said it’d be easy – and the past week has been about as hard as you can get at this rarefied level. A trip to West Brom, title favourites and everyone’s nomination for the Championship’s best team, yielded a priceless three points. Seven days later, and a trip to a side that now have a legitimate claim of their own to be this division’s premier outfit, saw us return home with nothing.

Which was a little harsh. Here’s why: Denied the services of Michael Turner to the ruling that insists five cautions mean a suspension, Phil Brown elected to slot West Brom loanee Neil Clement at centre-half alongside Wayne Brown. Okocha made way for Marney, Campbell and Folan continued up front with Deano unavailable, and the Tigers lined up: Myhill; Ricketts, Brown, Clement, Dawson; Garcia, Ashbee (c), Marney, Pedersen; Folan, Campbell. We should have led after a minute.

Some glittering interplay in the midfield saw Folan presented with a marvellous opportunity to sidefoot the ball home from about ten yards…and as we filled our lungs ready to bellow Ashton Gate down, the ball somehow evaded him. Permit some excuse making for the somewhat sketchy nature of those observations – Bristol City’s away end is somewhat basic, lacking in such basic amenities as an unobstructed view and backs to seats, which at least made for plenty of standing. The rake was poor, and events in the far half of the pitch were troublesome to discern throughout. Nonetheless, it was apparent that Folan had blown a glorious chance.

We weren’t waiting to be punished for long. There was a genuine hint of Spring in the West Country air, that indefinable sensation that means nerve-shredding run-ins are commencing, the return of cricket, the re-opening of beer gardens. All very agreeable – yet a swirling wind accompanied it, making for a tricky drive south (crossing the Ouse bridge requiring particularly intensive concentration), and the blustery conditions were enough to flummox Neil Clement when attempting to deal with a high ball. He wholly failed to cut out the danger, allowing Dele Adebola to barge through and smack the ball past the badly isolated Myhill.

A cracking finish, though it hardly needs to be said that he should never have been given the chance. Falling behind is not exactly uncommon for City these days, and this setback was dealt with in the same unruffled manner as we are becoming accustomed to seeing. The Tigers saw more of the ball, looked sharper with it – yet Bristol are not top for nothing, and the steely determination that saw ten of them smuggle a point out of the Circle is evidently a characteristic deeply ingrained in them by their superb manager.

We were thus able to create very little of serious note in the final third. The match continued in roughly this pattern throughout the first half. Bristol arguably looked the likelier to score, with Brown and Clement’s hesitancy ensuring that Michael Turner was keenly pined after. In the midfield, we worked hard but found penetration difficult. Then, just as the interval approached, we scored. Another move was well crafted down the left involving Henrik Pedersen, and eventually the ball was squared to the unmarked Ashbee. He swung wildly at it, missing his kick altogether, but had the speed to retrieve possession and deliver it back in – and suddenly, the City players were wheeling away in delight.

It took a brief moment to deduce the sequence of events as celebrations took place in the claustrophobic away end, but an own goal was the logical outcome. At half-time, most considered that the game was there for the taking. City had reacted strongly to falling behind, and parity was certainly merited. We had played open, positive football, so was a repeat of West Brom on the cards.

No; we fell behind after a minute of the second half. It was again difficult to invest much certainty into interpretations at the far end, but we saw clearly the ball fly into our goal after what almost looked like a bicycle kick from the inadequate of yesteryear Jamie McCombe. Crumbs. This deflated us badly, and the match settled into the frustrating pattern of before – lots of ball, not much happening with it.

Bristol looked sporadically threatening but clearly had faith in their ability to defend their second lead of the match, and while we huffed and puffed, it didn’t look like our day. Okocha and France came on, the game trudged wearily on, the home fans began to celebrate, and a few resigned looks manifested themselves among the thousand-strong Tiger Nation.

Yet…we should have gone home with a point when in injury time City carved Bristol open down the right, Folan dragged the ball back to Campbell, whose shot smashed into the post and flew to safety. A heart-stopping moment, the home fans briefly stunned into horrified silence, we into paroxysms of despair. Moments later, it was finished, and while there were to be no repeats of the Hawthorns party, the players were afforded a genuinely warm hand at the end. A setback, then. But not a fatal one.

Defeat at the league leaders, as we must now called Bristol City, is disappointing but scarcely critical. And it was in some regards an unfortunate defeat – two instances of poor defending to their one, and the width of a post separating us from a draw. A point apiece could not have been called particularly unjust by those of a rustic persuasion on Saturday. But you have to take your chances and deny them to your opposition – Bristol have seemingly been doing that all season, so we can hardly call it a fluke. Phil Brown has wished them well, and so should we. As for City, we will return.

Two home games present themselves – Burnley on Tuesday, Scunthorpe on Saturday. The former now lie a place above us, and the importance of that game is obvious. The visit of ailing Scunthorpe for their cup final can only be regarded as a game we need to win. The frantic month of March begins poorly, but offers immediate hope for a return to form. (AD)

Filed under: Match Reports — Andy @ 7:44 pm

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