A VIEW FROM THE GALLOWGATE
THE memories of football supporters are long and unforgiving. For example, I know supporters of my vintage, when reminiscing about the early days, still can’t say the name of Mel Blyth, from Crystal Palace, without gnashing their remaining teeth because of his career-ending tackle on Tony Green.
Therefore it is no surprise that victories against Aston Villa are celebrated with extra relish, after their surprising delight at our relegation on their ground a few seasons ago, when previously they were in the category of clubs who I personally had no opinion of either way, like West Brom or Fulham.
If we’re being honest, given our away form this season and results since November, allied with Villa’s impressive home form, this victory was as surprising as it was welcome. That it could have been even bigger was more surprising.
How this bonkers club keeps pulling results like this out of the hat is up there with the greatest mysteries of all time along with who does the cooking when Spongebob is on a day off? And why do people keep inviting Jessica Fletcher to visit in Murder, She Wrote when the murder rate increases by 500% every time she turns up?
Speaking of bonkers, Saturday was the most remarkable match seen here for many a decade. It had everything.
Defenders from both sides not so much on different wavelengths as in different stadiums, good goals, silly goals, avoidable goals, VAR inevitably sticking its unwelcome nose in like a pub bore, and a referee seemingly being fed the laws of the games through his headset.
You have to credit Luton for not just dropping anchor from the start, and you could forgive their ‘game management’ to put it politely, in the last quarter.
We never looked like we could go on and win the game at 1-0, the defensive solidity of last season has gone and the midfield whilst impressive in attack, weren’t so impressive when defending. Joelinton was a huge miss.
Among the positives was the return of Barnes and Wilson, but, typically this season, it wasn’t to supplement but to replace someone taking their ticket in the treatment room.
Normally a home point is two lost, but in this case it was grudgingly admirable if only because of the fighting spirit. And with that I’m off to throw more darts at Mel Blyth’s picture.