So, “The New Sunderland” (Karl Mia Twat, Observer pre-season preview) sit proudly joint-top of the English Premier League. The Magnificent Royals, “The Three Newcomers Are Dead Certs To Go Straight Back Down” (Richard Head, Sunday Telegraph season preview), lead the world’s premier soccer league (OK, along with a few others on three points). “Too Small To Survive With The Big Boys” (Iggy Noramus, News of the World) have maximum points after Thrilling Top-Flight Debut Comeback.
While Desperate Derby and the Sorry Saints slug it out for the spoils in the lower leagues, Martin Jol’s Sad Spurs again flatter to deceive and Notts County ponder another season fighting to avoid the drop into the anonymity of the Conference, the H&P Biscuitmen lord it from a lofty perch (already three times Liverpool’s points tally). Bring It On. Gareth Southgate, eat your Pizza. PL and your Teesside Trannies, Welcome to the Harsh Reality of Football’s New Order.
Plucky Berkshire on the world map, live soccer in South Korea featuring the Mighty RRRRRRrss (we bought a Korean in the summer). It may be a Marathon not a Sprint, but call off the rest of the season, just give Sir Godly Coppell the trophy now and spare us the blushes, excuses and hair dryers from Fergie, the Arse-Whinger and Mourin-who? Even Kid Theo wants to join the Majestic Madjeskis, according to BBC Website, allegedly. Dizzy.
And on to matters more mundane.
A record defeat for the BC?
Have to check the annals, but there can’t have been many more severe drubbings than this mismatch against the mighty Rangers. The BC were 4-0 down before the sweat had formed on a thick, humid Singapore afternoon. Probably the best team we’ve played (certainly in the 18 months I’ve been around), with, individually, two or three of the best players we’ve faced. The giant central defender with the grace and deft touch of a gazelle lazily grazing the Serengeti; the dazzling dribbling, shimmying and sashaying of the deep-lying midfielder with sunken eyes like someone out of the Addams Family; and the silky skills of a striker who out-lanks Peter Crouch.
Elsewhere, they were technically streets ahead, fizzing the ball around, moving on and off the ball, playing wide, short and long. The BC were slow to get going, and then powered into reverse. From the sidelines, the first 15 minutes were a Horror Show as the Improbably Tall Striker teased with his close control, stepovers and eye for goal. He grabbed a five-minute hat-trick and then was gifted a fourth by a giveaway ball on the edge of our own area. A fifth followed soon after. This was cruelty of the wickedest order.
But the BC gradually battled back into the game and reduced the very big deficit through GT, whose industry and vision were rewarded when he struck a low, right-footed shot into the corner from the edge of the area. I think it was 6-1 by half-time, but it may have been 14 – and it wasn’t as if we were hopeless -- just off the pace, sluggish, giving them too much room, looking a little overawed and surrendering possession too easily.
Animated half-time team talk and, again, a much, much better second period, with more shape, more purpose, and more passion. AW was again strong at the back and distributed the ball well, ably supported by MN; AM enjoyed a good game at left back and the midfield oldies worked their socks off to break up the Rangers play and create chances. MJ, playing wide on the right put over several crosses that could, with a little more luck, have brought some reward.
DR, sporting multi-coloured new boots bought on a whim on the way home from the pub at 5.30 a.m., took over in goal to give CB a run up front, and helped keep the score down with a well-timed interception on the edge of the box. The BC continued to grow in stature and in confidence, running, harrying and enjoying more of the possession and spreading the play wide, but clear chances were few.
Two more goals went in at our end as the Rangers, to their credit, continued to treat the game with intent when it may have been kinder to downgrade it to a training kickabout. The referee, like most men in uniform, strutted and tutted but, largely, had a simple task as it was a game played in good spirit – though he did “send off” one of their midfielders as they had two players wearing the Number 10 shirt. He was allowed back on with a new shirt.
All in all, a bit of a footballing lesson – and Middlesbrough will crawl back to the Riverside, more humble and painfully aware of the ebb and flow of footballing greatness.
Back with the BC, good Groupie count (five), with the addition of GT’s far better half and non-playing UN, NG and AL, who turned up to cheer (?). Thankfully, the Cosmo season kicks off next week, so we can get back to playing some doozers after three heart-wrenching, lung busting games against Cosmo sides that brought us one draw and two defeats – and may, for now, have laid to rest the oft-aired argument that the BC should de-socialise and join a league.
No floral tributes, but no brickbats, and my vote for MoM would go to GT for a smart goal and solid all-round performance, pushed for the award by Andys W and M (!?). Johns R and R made light of their advancing years and DH, who also turned up with some alarming green/purple boots, worked hard in midfield. GM, CA and JL ploughed lonely furrows up front.
And on to Villa midweek ….
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