Step forwards then step back
BLUE-EYED BOY’S BLACKBURN VIEW
JUST when I thought I was out....dey pull me back in. So said Steve Van Zandt as Silvio Dante impersonating Al Capone as Michael Corleone, Sopranos.
Two steps forward, two steps back. That was our Easter, though it could be a (generous) description of our midfield, a unit so static and bereft of athleticism and sharpness that Opta stats on four of those wooden figures across a table football pole would surely suggest more positive movement and sprints in a 10-minute tap room encounter than Rovers clocked up in 180 minutes over the Holiday weekend.
I’ve watched football enough decades in enough far-flung points of the compass to know that any away win is to be savoured and I dropped lucky on Friday when my only road trip this season yielded three points.
I didn’t think it was the greatest performance. Forest ran out of ideas, we had none to start with other than keep a clean sheet – nothing wrong with that – and we got the delivery spot on at one of the few set-piece danger moments our largely timorous approach afforded.
Mahoney looked the only viable outlet and his perfect inswinger precipitated joyous “Duffy at Brentford” scenes.
Me and Mrs Blue Eyes witnessed them from the Brian Clough stand, immediately looking down on the away section. Our daughters were in with the Rovers lot though and it was wonderful to see them come singing and dancing across the car park, overjoyed and carried away with the significance of the occasion, when we met up with them after.
It was a classic Howard Kendall defend-properlyyou-get-one-point – sneak-one-you-get-thelot display and the back four and keeper deserved every credit. The fans who’ve travelled up and down and watched us play far better and get nowt on occasion deserve it far more than we occasional day-trippers too.
That ought to have been the springboard to set about Bristol City, who recently capsized to the tune of 5-0 at Deepdale, like a pack of rabid dogs.
But once again, by five minutes into an Ewood game, we have lapsed into that soporific, slow-slow, slow-slow-slow fug of a tempo, allowing the opposition – this a side which recently won one out of 20-odd, mark you – the opportunity to pass it around and feel comfortable and unharried, neat triangles, people skipping into space unaccompanied, full-backs constantly finding space.
As ever, we made the visitors look a good side. Okay they were coming off two wins but they’re not Rinus Michels’ Ajax side which is precisely what we made them look like.
One of my pals summed it up better than I could: “Quite simply we don’t work hard enough with or without the ball, that’s why we concede so many.”
Their goal was a perfect illustration. Somebody counted 31 passes, most in our half before a clever run by Abraham allowed him the kind of finish your bored mate who once had trials with Everton, played non-league for money and still runs half-marathons, scores to make it 18-3 against your lot in the weekly kick-about on the Astroturf he’s been asked to make up the numbers in.
You can guarantee that if we get to make 31 passes, Derby away excepted, 27 will be in our own half and the final one will evade our widest player’s attempt to catch it as it sails into row 14.
The lack of any kind of response was so staggering that when Rovers actually did produce an equaliser it seemed as difficult to comprehend as the 72 minutes of mindnumbing incompetence which preceded it.
Even then there was little need for Elliot Bennett’s unseemly posturing to the Riverside.
He’s been far from our worst performer of late and popped an odd goal in but after declaring to those daft enough to follow him on Twitter that the relegation battle was now so important that he would be depriving his acolytes of his social media wisdom in order to fully concentrate on his job (Gee, thanks, El, so glad you’re going to give this your best shot from March onwards, how will we manage without “3 massive points 4 the boys today and a great away following”) his reaction to actually slinging a cross in competently was way over the top.
Tony Mowbray has to shoulder a bit of blame for the remarkable lack of urgency in the last two home games. With wins a must and decent attacking players among his armoury, setting up to approach the Bristol game in a similar mind-set to Forest away was handing the initiative to the foe from the off.
He’s been unlucky with injuries to Mulgrew, Lenihan and Graham but could have got more out of the three strikers available with a more positive approach, possibly involving Guthrie on the field at some stage.
Guthrie, however, probably has to ask himself, after witnessing Lowe and Akpan flounder from the bench: “How on earth have I given the manager the option of leaving me out when that’s the competition?” Guthrie turned 30 this week and needs to take a good long look at himself if there is reasoning behind his omission.
I think we’ll now need a minimum of two wins from the last three and I can’t see it happening.
Forest’s fixtures look less imposing than Birmingham’s but the appointment of Harry Redknapp is an ‘It’s A Knockout’ joker card to throw in after the misery Zola visited upon them.
How ironic if, as predicted by my fellow columnist Old Blackburnian, Paul Lambert and his Wolves side hammer a decisive nail into our relegation coffin on Saturday.