Recovery after derby despair
BLUE-EYED BOY’S BLACKBURN VIEW
IT’S just typical that after a week in which derby despair – and my, it was desperate, a real embarrassment on every level – was followed by genuine sightings of green recovery shoots, Rovers get an international break lay-off to press the pause button on progress.
Regular readers will know I hate these darned weekends and just when we thought we’d got away with it, with a couple less late-autumn/winter midweek games, other sides will stack up a point or two on Saturday and Sunday while the Fleetwood game will hopefully be fit in soonish.
The Burnley game was all so predictable in its unfolding, a vastly superior team toying with us, even to the extent of being able to visibly step off the gas and enjoy a 45-minute keep-ball training exercise in the second half, before a sold-out away end in an otherwise halfempty Ewood.
The two dumbkopfs who ran on the pitch were an awful manifestation of an embittered, twisted section of our support which was out-sung and shouted by our neighbours, who at least introduced a modicum of humour into what’s become over recent years, startlingly ugly all-out hatred.
“We’re going to Wembley, you’re going to Shrewsbury,” I had to admit caused me a wry forced smile after listening to ghastly youths in Ewood Club shouting that witless “What do you think of Burnley?” calland-response abomination for a solid pre-match hour.
I sat depressed towards the front of the Upper Jack Walker behind a young blonde slip of a mum, almost certainly under 30, periodically stood up v-signing the Clarets End while shouting obscenities as her nine-year old daughter looked bewildered and not a little upset by the horrendous spectacle.
As for those who applauded and cheered the pathetic actions of the pitch invaders – these people always look even more ridiculous than they can possibly imagine waddling their unathletic frames across a sports field don’t they? – have a read of noted football writer John Nicholson’s imperious recent essay on “lad culture” and stay away from football, perhaps saving your money for the next big EDL rally.
Mowbray got some deserved stick for his selection and the lack of urgency shown on the night so he deserves considerable credit for the changes he made to personnel and formation against MK Dons on Saturday.
Samuel and Chapman both showed enough in the Caraboa Cup to deserve to be involved and finally Tony listened to someone (maybe Mark Venus if not the fans) and jettisoned the ineffective one up front set-up.
Antonnson certainly wasn’t great on full debut and for very different reasons I’d currently have Graham and Nuttall, of whom more later, in front of him but the system inarguably carried more positive intent and threat.
After years of failed gaffers banging on about “starting games on the front foot” I’d practically given up on us putting anything meaningful together until A) the natives get vocally restless about the half-hour mark or B) we go a goal down, so I was barely concentrating when Williams, woeful against Burnley, popped up on the edge of the area and expertly put us ahead before I’d really settled in my seat.
Unfortunately Williams appeared to enjoy his foray into a central area of the pitch so much that he remained distant from his left touchline for the rest of the half, allowing his namesake the Dons right back the freedom of one third of our half. With Conway also found wanting in his covering duties, an equaliser was inevitable
Mulgrew’s free-kick expertise always offers us an even chance within yards of the other penalty area though, particularly if the goalkeeping is average, and while the visitors threatened in a spell they bossed after the interval, one of Mowbrays’s substitutions proved to be the winning choice.
Harry Chapman showed such effervescence, enthusiasm, ambition and skill that he helped put a gloss on the scoreline to suggest the margin of victory was rather more comfortable than a nervy first 75 minutes had intimated at.
Mulgrew’s pure footballing nous and positional awareness earned him a third, Chapman having won the corner I think, which any fox-inthe-box poacher would be proud to notch up and the fourth was a few seconds of total football joy.
There was something about the Duggie or Fergie (Duff or Dunn for younger readers perhaps) in the insouciant, impudent way Chapman danced through challenges to the by-line and pulled a delicious ball back which the rapidlyimproving Samuel could hardly do other than but stroke into the net.
Both our opening and closing goals were the type I imagined Dack would provide .and if he can kindly arrange to focus his attention onto getting fit and showing us what he really offers as the division’s costliest signing of the summer, we’re getting somewhere “in and around the attacking part of the field” as Mowbray said, employing football’s current cliché de rigueur.
Defensive reinforcements are imperative however, even assuming Mulgrew and Lenihan stay beyond the window closure.
We got a look at the lads pressing for a place in the enjoyable Checkatrade win at home to Stoke’s kids (and, bafflingly, Charlie Adam). Travis and Doyle acquiited themselves decently.
Willem Tomlinson was bright and energetic while the memorable moments were provided by Chapman again and sub Joe Nuttall. Nuttall looked hungry and boisterous, capped by a fine piece of opportunism from Chapman’s wonderful ball.
He looks to me one we can chuck in and he could surprise a few.
Roll on Rochdale.