A load of old bull vs Hereford (L2)

In my Bedfordshire village it had been pelting down for a couple of days (is it St Swithens day yet?) and it looked like being a wet drive down to the stadium and a wet game for the players. My in-laws were visiting, so I could do a few mother in law jokes here and pretend I was glad to get out of the house, but in fact we get on well and I was sorry to have to scoot off. But I was looking forward to the game and the rain gradually petered out as I got nearer to Grenoble Road and it eventually stopped as I managed to park. Good. I got there at 1.30 and the East Stand car park was virtually full. I'll just have to camp there overnight to be sure of a space when we get into League 1!

As the only home game in a run of six, this was an important game. A win would put us into the playoff positions, even a draw might do. But Herefords form and especially their recent away record is very impressive and they have been slowly climbing the table after having a bit of 'cow' early in the season. So it wouldn't be easy.

The team was unchanged from the excellent win at Morecambe, which is always a good sign showing a bit of form and stability. It was Forces day at the stadium, with loads of squaddies swelling the crowd to an impressive 7800. The Hereford fans had also made the effort to travel the awkward roads from the west with about 600 of them making the trip. Not bad.

Unlike their team's strip - which was very bad indeed. If you are feeling charitable, you'd say that they looked like Holland. If you were in a bad mood (like if you'd lost a game to them for example - hope I'm not spoiling the suspense!) you'd say that they looked like a load of stewards clothed in all over hi-vis. Unpleasant, really.

Before we get on with the gory details of the match, I'd like to say that I thought the Hereford supporters were very generous with their applause as several local kids' teams did a prematch lap of honour. Good stuff.

The match kicked off with us kicking towards the fence end, and kicking off. Which meant (I think) that Hereford had won the toss and were allowing us to kick towards the East Stand for the second half. That's unusual as teams usually try to do it the opposite way round, knowing our preference.

We abandoned our usual 'hoof' the ball into touch from the kick off, and instead started by passing it about nicely. Hereford didn't really get a touch of the ball, and we made a couple of half chances which came to nothing. It was all going quite well, and we all know what happens next in that scenario!

In their first (and possibly only) attack of the first half, a Hereford player was allowed to get free down their left, the ball was well crossed and Fleetwood did what good strikers do. He got just enough on it to glide it past Clarke. How on earth did that happen? Bad defending is how. But never mind. We'd looked a cut above though, surely we could pull it back?

Hereford were now perfectly happy to put 10 men (if not all 11) behind the ball, and to defy us to break them down. Initially it looked as if it wouldn't take too long. Tonkin and Hall both forced fairly regulation saves from the Bull's keeper, before Craddock was crudely brought down in the penalty area when free on goal.

But according todays refugee from the 'Home for the Terminally Incompetent' the wet and preening Mr Drysdale, that's not a red card and a penalty. It's not a yellow card. It's not a penalty. In fact it's not a foul. Awful. And unlike some of the terrible refs we have had this season, that decision really did affect the outcome of the game. Let's get today's assessment of the ref out of the way while we are here. Useless. Inconsistent. Unobservant. He booked players on both sides for tackles that were much less dangerous than others that had been committed a moment before. He allowed a Hereford player to actually catch the ball and drop it at his own feet. He was completely ineffective at stopping Hereford wasting time as the match wore on. He couldn't stop the shenanigans that both teams committed at corners and free kicks. Enough of him. I hope no other teams in the league have to put up with him.

Craddock had a couple of half chances (although his shirt seemed to get attached to a Hereford player's hand as he had a shot), and Hereford had another dangerous attack that was started when one of their defenders wanted desperately to cuddle Damien Batt. Damien isn't that kind of guy, and tried to run away but the Bull wasn't taking no for an answer. The ref (sorry) didn't see it, or perhaps wanted the course of true love to run smooth, so he let them get on with it. Clarke also decided to go walkabout around this point, just about reaching the touchline before he realised that a) there was someone covering the Bulls attacker he was going out to say hello to and b) he was supposed to be stopping the ball going into the goal. He just about got back in time - but some of his decision making is becoming a bit bizarre at the moment.

Half time came. Applause for the team, boos for the ref. Or perhaps booze for the ref - it wouldn't have made his performance any worse. Sorry again, I said I'd stop. Crossbar challenge - some squaddies who did quite well. I let someone else win the 50/50 again. I'm just so bloody generous.

As the teams ran out for the second half, I was really hoping that we would have made some changes at half time. Maybe Hackney, maybe Potter? Maybe both? Neither. Hmm. Although we'd had the ball for long periods in the first half, it is fair to say that we hadn't in truth done that much with it. We had passed it across the field and generally looked comfortable enough in possession, but it was a bit heavy footed and slow. Batt hadn't really been that effective at exploiting the amount of the ball he had seen, neither had Tonkin. Beano was again not looking likely to score, getting the ball with his back to goal most of the time. Craddock had drifted in and out of the game as he tends to. We had been trying to go round the sides and failed, and tried to pass it through the middle equally inffectively. A change might have livened things up. But lacking that, the game setted very quickly back into the pattern of the first period. Maclean was clattered by a very nasty tackle that in many games would have earned the Hereford player a red card and possibly an ASBO as well. Yellow. I'm not one to want players sent off all the time, but if Batt's tackle at Southend was worthy of a red, then that one was too - it was far far worse.

Heslop put one wide of the post, then from a corner Worley had a glorious chance which he put over the bar. If it had fallen for a striker, you'd like to think it would have been buried. Somehow 25 minutes of the half had gone by and Tufty decided (at bloody last) to put Hackney and Potter on in place of Hall and Craddock. Personally, I'd have kept Craddock on and taken Beano off. Craddock can be infuriating, but he had been far more of a threat than Beano, who is going though a bit of a lean patch both in terms of goals and form. A header from him a couple of minutes later emphasised that as it sailed over the bar, when he should really have got it on target at the very least. Midson came on the replace Maclean, but made very little difference. Again, I would have taken Beano off.

For a while Hackney had found it difficult to get a touch of the ball, but several minutes later an excellent header hit the underside of the crossbar and bounced away. You just knew that it was going to be one of those days!

And so it proved. As we pressed forwards trying to snatch a point, Hereford inevitably broke away and Fleetwood added his second goal of the afternoon deep into stoppage time to seal the points for the visitors, latching onto a fluffed shot by the worst player on the pitch Hereford's Pell (who reminded me of the not much lamented Futcher, in that he was tall. And useless). Potter skewed a late efford horribly wide, but the game was up.

Hereford had come and done a thoroughy professional job, riding their luck at times, but taking their chances and defending very well. Oxford had fluffed their lines, throwing away the chance to move into the playoffs, and in fact losing both a place in the table and points to most of those above them. A bad day - one that reminded me in some ways of Conference matches when teams would come and park the bus, except that Hereford are much better than that.

Diving home, these were my thoughts:

Although nobody would want us to abandon the way we are playing, the tempo needs to be higher and players need to be looking for the forward ball more.
The forwards were very static. Beano wasn't offside once today, which shows how many through balls were played for him to run on to!! Joking, but there wan't really a single threatening through ball played all afternoon.
The midfield challenged for the ball well today.
Wilder's changes were too late by far. I feel we wasted 25 minutes of the second half trying to do stuff that hadn't worked for the previous 45.
Shoot. For God's sake shoot! Too many players passing the buck and the ball, when they could have had a go.
Depite all the above, it was quite an enjoyable game even if it resembled an attack vs defence training exercise for most of the match. And sometimes we played some lovely football.
Although I'd love to be promoted automatically or be in the playoffs (we should still be aiming at both) - I still think we will finish 10th-12th.

Next match - Lincoln away on Tuesday. I'll be there.

Stodgy, Soggy, Stevenage (L2)

A comparatively local one for me, this. About an hour from where I work. Which is relevant because one of the chaps who owns the company (let's call him George for the purposes of this article) decided that he'd like to come along. Which is fine, since I'm always happy to introduce someone to the 'joys' of following the mighty yellows. On the other hand, I think he'd only been to one football match before ever and that was at Arsenal - on the evidence of previous Stevenage/Oxford clashes I doubted if there would be much similarity!

So we set off from work in our seperate cars, aiming to have a quick meal in Stevenage Old Town before the match. Now, my recent knowledge of Stevenage's geography doesn't really extend much wider than the football ground and George's assurance that 'you can't miss the Old Town' didn't fill me with confidence, especially when followed by a list of roundabouts and lefts, rights and straight-ons. This could be a long night.

My route took me down the A1(M) which is obviously in competition with the M1 to see which can have the most roadworks and speed limits. At rush hour. Hmm. Not the best idea ever. It was fairly busy. Of course George (who has family in one of the villages around Stevenage and so knows all the short cuts) got to the Old Town first and kept ringing me to tell me so. Now I'm a bit of a stickler for not using my phone when I'm driving (nothing is so important that it can't wait), so I let it ring. Amazingly enough, ten minutes later I had found Stevenage Old Town and George. We'd both parked outside the same restaurant! So in we went and had a quick Indian meal. Some poddadums followed by Tandoori Prawns, washed down with a half of what was optimistically described as beer, for me. Yum. Pretty nice, and a step up from my normal match night food. Even better - George paid! 30 minutes until kick off. Easy.

Except that George's car then seemed to give out. It claimed that his parking brake was knackered and that he should get it fixed immediately. To make sure he did so, the car made sure the brake stayed on. I was supposed to be following him to the stadium, but leaving him with his reluctant motor, I headed off. Once we realised he wasn't going to make it, he had given me 'directions'. This time I ended up in some sort of housing estate, with many dead ends, one exit and no signposts.

It was a good job that I had remembered to put my SatNav in my pocket, along with a scrap of paper with the postcode of Stevenage's ground scribbled on it. So I pulled up in one of the dead ends, fired up the SatNav and waited for it to find a satellite. When it did, it decided that I wasn't in a housing estate, but in a field. That kind of thing happens when you're too mean to pay for the updates. So it was driving at random instead. Eventually I found the way out (more by luck than judgement)and the satnav picked up the road. 10 minutes until kickoff. Cutting it a bit fine. But I managed to park in the boggy field that Stevenage FC call a car park, took my life in my hands dashing over the dual carriageway and got into the away stand just before the teams ran out. Phew.

The pitch looked better than the last time I was there at the end of last season, when it was basically mud and sand, with a layer of standing water on it. This time it was green and bobbly, but still very wet. It always rains when we are playing in Stevenage. Do you know why? It's because every time God looks down over the place, he weeps.

The teams ran out to a good reception. There were about 700-800 yellows there which meant that the Stevenage faithful numbered a pretty pathetic 1800 or so. It's their first season ever in the League - you'd have thought they could have done better, especially since their recent cup run must have got a few fairweather fans coming in. You can take the club out of non-league, but you can't take the non-league out of the club. We wore our blue away kit. Still don't like it. The lineup was changed. Clarke and the back four remained the same, but the midfield was Payne, McLaren, Clist. Forwards were Hackney, Craddock, Constable. Or perhaps it was 4-4-2 with Hackney in midfield. Or a 4-5-1 with Constable and Craddock taking turns at being the loan striker. Whatever it was, it was a surprise to see MacLean not starting. As well as being a striker in his own right, he is the link between the midfield and the attack. I wondered if we would miss that part of his play.

We kicked off with Clarke down in front of the U's supporters. Within the first minute we almost went one down. A Stevenage player hit a lovely shot from quite a way out. It looked as if it was going a good distance over the bar, but dipped late and smacked into the woodwork, with Clarke well beaten. Within a couple of minutes we went up the other end of the pitch and after a decent move Craddock smacked the ball against the inside of the Stevenage far post. It bounced out to safety. I turned to the bloke next to me and said "Well, one things for certain. This won't end nil-nil". Will I ever, ever learn?!

The pitch was looking tricky, with the ball not running true, and where it was wetter hardly running at all. Stevenage had obviously done their homework, trying to put in cross after cross. They did this uncomfortably easily by putting two players on Tonkin. Hackney doesn't look like the best tracker back, so it was simple for the opposition to work an opening down that side. But Worley and Wright were looking good in the center of defence. After a quarter of an hour or so, Payne crossed the ball for Beano who was all alone at the far post. His first time volley went horribly wrong however, missing by quite a distance. Our passing was starting to look ragged, and the clearances were getting wilder. The ball kept coming back at our defence, but for all their possession, Stevenage were very ineffective in attack.

The least surprising incident of the night happened after half an hour, when right on cue a Stevenage player went down with a fictional injury which required treatment. They do this every game, so their players can have a drink and get a bit of tactical advice. It might be more convincing if the Stevenage coaching staff hadn't been ready with the drinks etc at the side of the pitch just before it happened!! Amazingly enough, after hobbling to the touchine as if he could hardly walk, he managed to run straight back on the pitch ten seconds later. Gamesmanship, or cheating? Whichever, the instructions they had been given by the odious Westley were obviously to put themselves about a bit. Preferably on Jake Wright. Firstly ex-yellow Ashton dumped him to the floor in the penalty area without any punishment, then Ben May slid in on him with studs up. It should have been a red card (dangerous and premeditated) but it only got a yellow from the rather weak referee. The undue leniency of the punishment lead to players on both sides deciding that tackling in that fashion was now allowable and it got a bit fractious. The ref called together the two captains to try and calm it down, a pity that he himself had caused the situation! He then booked McLaren for a tackle that was no where near as bad as most of those that had just been allowed to go. Very poor. Craddock hit the outside of the post with a neat shot after a clever run, and the half ended. As the players trooped off, a couple of the Stevenage players decided that if they couldn't thump an Oxford player then they'd have a go at each other over a throw in (!!). Pathetic - just shows what passes for team spirit at the Lamex. Isn't that some kind of stretchy, spangly material by the way?

On the way to have a quick half-time wee, who should I see in the queue but George! He'd somehow managed to persuade his car that parking on a slight slope didn't mean that his brakes were knackered and had made it! He sheepishly admitted that he had initially gone into one of the Stevenage home stands (I told you he was a football novice!), had realised his mistake and asked one of the ("very sweet") stewards if they could move him. Which they did. He also said that when he was talking to the stewards, it was when the teams were coming out at the start of the match (I guess he'd avoided my trip into the housing estate so had managed to catch me up!) - and they were very complementary about the number of Oxford fans and the welcome we gave our team as they came out, saying they wished the Stevenage fans were anything like as good. Makes you proud.

If our passes were going astray in the first half, in the second it got far worse. I can't honestly remember any passage of play where we put more than two or three passes together. Stevenage were living up to their reputation as a physical team, hassling our rather lightweight midfield at every opportunity. Our distribution from the back was appalling, with the ball going either straight out of play or straight to a Stevenage player. In an attempt to tighten this up, Hall came on for Payne and MacLean for Hackney - who hadn't really looked as good as in previous matches, but then nobody had really - with the possible exeptions of Wright and Worley. It didn't really make much difference. We still gave the ball away far too easily, putting our defence under increasing pressure. Our football pundit of the night George, couldn't really believe what he was seeing, but thought that Hackney had been our best player. Stevenage had a decent chance that went high over the bar, we didn't really create anything. Midson came on for the seemingly out-of-sorts Constable, and made a point of harrying the Stevenage defence. It bore fruit a couple of times and pegged them back a little, but he never really looked like being a serious goal threat. Towards the end of the match, it looked to me as if we had settled for a point, and Stevenage didn't exactly throw all their players forward either - probably wary of conceding a late sucker-punch goal on the breakaway. George kept looking at his watch, I don't think he was enjoying the football very much. He made his excuses and left with five minutes or so to go. I stayed to the bitter end as usual, and was relieved when the ref blew for time.

For two reasons. Firstly our football hadn't really been up to the required standard and it had been an awful game, with Stevenage not able to make many meaningful attacks.
Secondly, it was actually a decent point away from home. Stevenage have a very good home record.

Out of the stadium, another game of 'chicken' on the dual-carriageway and reasonably quickly out of the car park. Home in decent time.

Points from the match:

The change in starting personnel (and formation?) didn't really work. Which is a worry if we pick up an injury or two.
We really do struggle against teams that are prepared to bully us rather than to try to out-football us.
We'd probably have lost that game if it had been played on the originally scheduled Boxing Day.
Wright and Worley were the bright spot in an otherwise lacklustre performance.
On getting home, I found out that we are now just one point off the playoffs. So maybe at the end of the season it will prove to be a point won rather than two missed out on.

Next match away at Morecambe. Apparently one of the towns in the country with the highest proportion of empty shops. How about "we've got more shops than you, we've got more shops than you"!.

I'm not going, so good luck to all those who are. If anyone wants to write an eyewitness match report I'd be happy to put it up on here. See you all at the Hereford match.

Millers Mullered vs Rotherham (L2)

It was back home to the East Stand for me. Two away games and a trip up the north face of the South Stand had meant that I'd been away for a bit. The day was bright, dry and (especially after Gillingham) thankfully windless. The team was changed a bit with Midson coming back in for the slighty-injured-but-on-the-bench Craddock and Heslop replacing the slighty-injured-but-on-the-bench-as-well Clist.

I heard the team news as I was sitting in my car in the east stand car park. Determined to get a space (getting out of the main car park winds me up something rotten!), I'd arrived at about 1.45 and managed to nab just about the last free place. Whatever are we going to do when (not if, but when) we are in the Championship? Parking will be impossible. The only answer is that we'll all have to move and live on the Leys! I decided to go and inspect the chip van, since I needed something to drink during the match. The chips looked OK, so I risked it. They were lovely. Life is full of little surprises. Of course I know I'm only being built up so I can be knocked down again, and it will be a different story next time!

On to the match. Rotherham were a bit of an unknown. When we went to their place (the one where you can hardly see the pich, it's so far away), our team was in a bit of disarray, with Futcher being our great midfield hope. The highly touted Le Fondre scored two goals, and it wasn't really very good. This time around, they had also signed Omar Daley from Bradford - who had also scored twice against us in our match up there. So it was a certainty that they'd be dangerous up front. But, they hadn't won away for a while, losing at 3-1 at Gillingham in the week. Daley didn't start this time, but was on the bench instead.

We won the toss again, and were kicking towards the Fence End first half as preferred. The first ten minutes were fairly even, with perhaps the honours going to the away team. But then we found our passing game a little, and started to exert a bit of pressure. The first real chance fell to Constable after a quarter of an hour, but his shot found the legs of the grey haired Millers keeper, Andy Warrington. But it looked like a goal was coming and a few minutes later we took the lead. Some very good work by Midson down the right (including avoiding a rather nasty challenge, for which the ref played an excellent advantage) lead to him pulling the ball back to Heslop who made no mistake. The ref should probably have booked the Miller's player after the goal, but didn't.

We were now well on top, with all of our forwards causing the Rotherham defenders to nearly wet themselves every time we got the ball. Some concerted pressure over the next quarter of an hour lead to no goals though, and we were (as always) looking a bit open down the flanks in defence. Omar Daley (who had come on after 15 minutes or so to replace the injured, and quite impressive, Ryan Taylor) then slotted through a lovely pass to Nicky Law, who pulled the scores level with a nice finish. I'll have to watch this when the clips become generally available, but my first thoughts (and those of the peple round me) were two things. Firstly, Daley had been given far far too much room and secondly, Ryan Clarke seemed to be caught in no man's land. Maybe he could have done better? I'll reserve judgement.However, it was actually a lovely goal, if against the run of play. That's the thing about us at the moment, we can be well on top, but still look capable of letting one in at any time! 10 minutes to go until half time, and it was pretty even until the ref blew, and the teams were clapped off. The ref was booed off because of a penalty claim for Beano that he igonored. I can't honestly say that I saw it well enough to say one way or the other, but perhaps it set a seed in his mind for the second half...

Crossbar challenge. Boring. Think we ought to knock it on the head really. Not entertaining, badly organised. People with long hair this time. Some of them errm, didn't have long hair.

The second half started with no more substitutions and the yellows going forward, but chances were hard to come by. Then Jack Misdon (who had held the ball up well, worked hard and made our goal) went off, the be replaced by Simon Hackney for his home debut. Hackney had looked good in his two sub appearances at Southend and Gillingham, now he had 35 minutes or so to impress. And impress he did. He immediately added a fresh impetus into our attack, his crossing being threatening in a way that we haven't seen from a winger recently. Beano got on the end of one for the Miller's keeper to make an amazing save down by the foot of his left hand post. He managed to get his hand down on instinct to deny us the lead.

Then the turning point of the match. The excellent Steve MacLean was fouled in the box by a Rotherham defender when clean through. The ref was about three feet away, and promptly gave a penalty and sent the player off. There were few complaints from the other Millers players, it was an obvious offence. MacLean stepped up to take the penalty and blasted it to the goalie's left. Not for the first or last time in the afternoon, the Millers octeganarian keeper managed to get something behind it. Agonisingly for him - and brilliantly for us - it span across the face of the goal and into the net by the far post. At last! A bit of luck! MacLean was following up however and I am sure he could have prodded it home if it looked like it was going to miss.

So 2-1 up with 25 minutes to go, against ten men. Now those who have been to a match recently when we have played against ten men (for much of the home match against Torquay springs to mind) will know that we find it difficult to do so for some odd reason. Rotherham made it more difficult, confusing our players by doing almost exactly what they did before (occasionally looking threatening in attack) and ignoring the fact that they were one short in defence. Which made their originally creaky defence look as threadbare as the windscreen washer tubes on my dad's motor after the rats that got into their garage ate them! That's true. The bloke at the garage said ' no wonder your washers aren't working, there's no tubes'. And they ate half the cover on the positive terminal of the battery as well. Little buggers. Rat man in next day - no more rats. Mess with my dad at your peril, vermin.

Sorry, I've digressed. Anyway, Constable, Maclean, Hackney and the newly introduced Potter (on for Hall) terrorised the defence (especially their no 6, who completely fell apart in the latter stages of the game), and should really have added to our total. While at the other end Le Fondre had a couple of chances, one eventually stopped by a hesitant Ryan Clarke (who seemed to wait an age before deciding to come off his line, the other stopped by a tackle that the Rotherham fans were desperate to be a penalty. It wasn't. We spent the last few minuted determined to give the corner flags in the Rotherham half as good a look at the ball as possible. Even the the extent that MacLean was clear in their penalty area near the goal line. Instead of trying to set someone up and kill the match stone dead he turned around and headed for the corner!

Eventually the (generally decent, if a bit inconsistent) ref blew for time. A quick dash back to the car... and it took ages to get out of that car park as well. Hmph.

Today's words of wisdom (??!!):

Hackney is an exciting addition to the squad.
All the teams in the playoff places above us today either lost or drew, with only Shrewsbury of all 7 teams in promotion/playoff places managing a win. So we have caught almost all of them up a little and are just two points off the playoffs.
There's a fine line between being patient in keeping posession of the ball and buggering about with it for no good reason. Sometimes we cross that line!
Midson did some good work today (as did everyone, to be fair).
I don't think that Constable missing a couple is a problem.
Our corners are a bit better, but still not good.
The less said about our throw-ins the better.
We need fear no team in this division, home or away.
Rotherham's keeper is only in his thirties. I reckon playing behind that number 6 is what's turned his hair grey!


Stevenage on Tuesday. They'll be big and physical, sending crosses into our box. Could be tricky. See you there.

Dark Clouds, Silver Lining vs Gillingham (L2)

After the week's earlier trip to Sarfend, it was time to make another journey around the lovely M25 - this time to Gillingham. On my own this time, and further round. I left plenty of time, and sure enough was held up in a couple of places, but got there before kick off easily enough.

Back home in deepest, darkest Bedfordshire it had been very windy and I can see a bit of DIY roofing repair work for me when it all calms down. I was hoping that the hurricane would abate as I drove south, since to my mind there are very few things that are likely to spoil a match of football more than a strong wind. By the way the car was moving as I drove down either it was still windy, or one of my wheels was a bit loose. Probably fortunately, it wasn't the latter.

Now I don't know what you think of when Kent is mentioned. I think of Oast Houses, thatched barns, hop picking and pretty seaside towns. I'm sure they are all there somewhere - just nowhere near Gillingham! The area around the ground is fairly grotty, but I managed to park at the side of the road a little way off and wandered down past the rundown Primitive Methodist Hall (my Mum and Dad are Methodists, not sure they'd appreciate being called 'primitive' though!) and the mini-marts, over the railway track and to the ground. On asking where the away end was, we were told to retrace our steps and walk up a little (and completely unsignposted) alley. Shades of the Cuckoo Lane end! Maybe a small sign saying something like, oh I don't know, perhaps 'Away Supporters' and an arrow might be a good idea?

Anyway, the price to get in was an amazing £23. Obviously, for that the accommodation would be sumptuous, the view unparalleled and the football a feast for the eyes. Erm, no.

The away end at Gillingham is a load of uncovered, temporary (that seems to have become permanant) seating supported on a forest of manky old scaffolding. The seats are green plastic, attractively blotchily faded by the sun. At least they matched the pitch, which was also green and fairly blotchy - although the blotches were worn patches rather than sun-kissed turf. It looked fairly bobbly. The reason I could see the pitch so well is that Gillingham had decided to put us in the upper tier of this green plastic monstrosity. So we were quite a long way up, quite a long way from the pitch and totally exposed to the howling gale as well as any rain that might fall. Thanks for that. You really know how to make us feel welcome.

The home supporters on the other hand were housed in relative comfort - at least they had a roof. The rest of the ground consists of three stands of differing height and looks OK. The scoreboard (with a useful gametime clock) was difficult to read from an angle, being blue lights on a blue background, but at least it was there. Many of the grounds I have been to this season haven't got a clock or scoreboard of any description - how hard can it be to put a clock up?

The PA was incredibly distorted, all the music sounded as if it was being played on a record player whose stylus hadn't been changed for a decade. For all you younger readers, it sounded like an mp3 that had been sampled at a very very low bit rate after being ripped off a TV broadcast, where the TV was in a dustbin. The team announcements were all but inaudible, but Purkiss replaced Batt (obviously, due to him being suspended for tackling a Sarfend player) and Clist (who had been much missed in the earlier part of Tuesday's match) started in place of Heslop. Probably near enough the side most of us expected to come out (despite my fanciful ideas about 4-4-2 on the forum - what was I thinking!).

On a sartorial note - all white this time, which looked much better but still doesn't answer the question of why the away/second kit (the horrible blue one) wasn't more carefully considered. Nothing that can be done about it now, I suppose. But let's be sensible next season, eh?

The match kicked off with us attacking the far goal, but the Jills (well that's how it's pronounced!) looking more dangerous in the early exchanges, forcing a couple of corners. Which we managed to negotiate safely. Phew. We than came into the game more, with a couple of half chances. Gillingham also had a couple, but it was all very scrappy. Unfortunately, the wind was spoiling the match. It seemed to be swirling around, and judging by the speed that the ominous black clouds overhead were moving, very strong. As a result, the players on both sides were misjudging the weight of passes, clearances were moving about in the air like a Muralitharan doosra and there were throw ins and goal kicks galore. Clarke especially seemed to be hitting the ball so long that it often went straight though to the Jill's keeper.

The referee was a relative of the one we had on Tuesday, ignoring what looked (admittedly from quite a long way away) like a foul on Constable in the Gills penalty area and even worse, a blatant stamp by Gills defender Lawrence on Maclean. For some reason Maclean took exception to being assaulted, so the weak referee booked both players when Lawrence should have been having the proverbial early bath (if they have baths in Gillingham, that is). As an aside, when walking back to the ZeroMobile after the match, the Gills fans around me were also marvelling at how their player avoided the walk of shame.

Half time came. It had been a fairly even half, perhaps we had just shaded it. Neither team had created any glaring chances and it was getting colder. The Oxford faithful had tried to get the atmosphere going, but much of it just floated away into the windy air. At least it wasn't raining, but the wind wasn't letting up.

If I was a Sky or Talksport commentator trying to big the occasion up, I could say that the second half burst into life, with plenty of goalmouth action, shots and saves. I'd be lying though. It was more of the same really. The remarkably bulky Akinfenwa ('Have you ever seen your toes?'!) caused a few problems, but the truth is that much of the Gills play was 'boot it up the field and see if Akinfenwa can get a flick on' and ours was 'boot it up the wings to see if someone can get onto it' both of which were being made to look ridiculous by the wind. In an attack of wideplayeritis, Tufty Wilder replaced Craddock and Maclean with Alfie and Simon Hackney with about 25 minutes to go. Hackney looked occasionally dangerous, Alfie didn't really get on the ball much. As the home team, Gillingham pressed in the last 10 minutes, but didn't have many alternative ideas, so they just did more of what they'd been doing all match. Of course, a couple of their corners caused some concern, especially with the still swirling wind, but eventually the ref had enough and ended the match. I'm not sure that we had one shot on target in the second half, and as I recall we might well have only had a couple of shots at all in the last 45 minutes, of which Hackney's was the closest - although he might well have been attempting a cross. With that wind, who can tell?

Blimey. A clean sheet, the first for 24 matches or so. And the first away draw since the end of September. The 600-700 yellows left, after applauding the players off. A good point earned really, away at a team in decent recent form. A quickish drive back and the day was done. But stone the crows, is petrol now the most expensive commodity on Earth? It would be cheaper to fill my car up with Chanel No.5 (well probably some horrible cheapo Lynx body spray would suit my car better, but you get the idea). 136.7 a litre on the motorway. EEEEK!

What can we learn from our trip to Kent's nether regions?

More expensive isn't always better!
Our midfield CAN challenge for the ball - they did it effectively all match, so credit where it's due.
As suspected, with Purkiss replacing Batt we were more solid defensively and less threatening in attack.
I don't want to be too critical, especially since the wind ruined much of the game, but our distribution out of defence was very erratic (that's being kind!).
Sometimes we just need to to put our foot on the ball - often the player has more time than they think, and a hasty little pass goes astray and puts us under immediate pressure.
A much more composed performance than Tuesday.
It wasn't an exciting match, but I'll settle for the occasional yawnfest at difficult away matches if it means we get a point or three!

No match on Tuesday, so the players will have a week to prepare for Rotherham at home next Saturday. It's Ultimate Support Saturday, so sing your hearts out for the lads!

Oh we don't like to be beside the seaside vs Southend (L2)

Southend on a Tuesday night. Not a terribly appealing prospect, especially driving there by myself, but an exchange of messages on the essential Yellows message board (http://www.yellowsforum.co.uk/) had provided me with a lift from a fellow Yellow. I'm fairly keen on doing that kind of thing. Firstly it saves both parties some of their hard earned money (not to mention being more green) and it also gives me the chance to meet, and natter to, fans who I haven't met before.

So 4.45 found me lurking outside a garage in Milton Keynes waiting for my lift, looking like a yellow and blue clad male prostitiute waiting for a kerb crawler. Scoob (the fellow yellow) turned up and we were off. It is always quite a relief when stuck in a car for ages with someone you've never met before to find out that they are a decent driver, a nice chap, happy to talk and a non-smoker! Scoob is all four, and the journey down was very enjoyable. We managed to avoid a horrible traffic jam on the M25 by going on to the next junction and got to Southend with about half an hour to go until kickoff, so picked the tickets up and went to get something to eat. I'm sure there must be more to the place, but from a cursory look around the area near the ground, you could be forgiven for thinking that half the people in the town have set up fast food outlets. We settled on a kebab house - I opted for a veggie burger, chips and some sort of arabic titled version of fizzy orange for just £2. Bargain - and not too bad.

Anyway - into the ground. There seemed to be two Southend mascots, one of whom was dressed as a shrimp. Nice. The ground itself is fairly tidy, but suffers from pillar-itis, which makes finding a decent viewing point a little tricky, especially as we were all confined to the left hand side of the stand behind one of the goals. I'd guess there were 350 yellows there. People were still arriving well into the first half, so that traffic jam might well have caught some travellers.

The team was the same again, except that Heslop came in for Clist. That was a bit of an immediate worry. A midfield of Hall, Mclaren and Heslop doesn't really work for me. Mclaren sits just in front of the back three, Hall and Heslop look to get forward. Mclaren will tackle, Heslop and (to a lesser extent) Hall don't seem that interested. Although Clist hasn't been his usual self over the last couple of matches, he does try to win the ball. Ah well - let's see how it works out I thought as the teams ran onto the pitch.

Now I've had a bit of a rant about the various strips before, and tonight we wore all white, but with light blue socks. It looked awful. Whatever the 'home' kit is next year (yellow shirts please!) can we have an away kit that is significantly different, so that we don't end up with this random mishmash of bits of kit? It's not rocket science, just look at the home kits of the other clubs in the league and pick 'away' colours that means we can wear one of our two strips in every match. It looked very unprofessional indeed.

The game started with us defending the goal in front of the Us fans. As early as the first few minutes, Southend had a decent chance that their striker failed to get on the end of. And then another one. There were a few raised eyebrows in the stands, but after the first five minutes, we started to get into it a bit more. After a quarter of an hour, Beano put us ahead. Now, I'll admit that I hate the tippy tappy free kicks we take. But this time it worked, and Beano scored from close range. I still think that as a percentage, our free kicks work the goalkeeper far too little however.

We then were on top for the next 10 minutes or so, and had several decent chances including a Beano header that hit the bar. In hindsight, if we had scored during that period, I think we would have come out as winners, but as we failed to convert any of the chances, Southend were far from out of it. Their midfield started to really get hold of the match, and my pre-match fears about our lack of bite in the middle of the pitch started to come true. Our midfield simply failed to challenge for many of the loose balls and, even worse, our passing went completely to pot, so even when we did get the ball, we couldn't keep it for longer than 10 seconds.

It was no surprise when, with the ball constantly coming back at our defence, we conceded with a couple of minutes to go before half time. Our defence are developing a nasty habit of making risky passes across the face of our own goal. I'm not quite sure what Tonkin thought he was doing, and I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say that the ball span awkwardly off his boot, but a Southend attack that could have been easily cleared ended up with the ball squirting across the penalty area for a Southend attacker to shoot past Clarke to equalise. Right, let's get to half time without conceding again.

Oh.

From a corner, an Southend attacker was challenged very unconvincingly in the air, the ball fell for another blue shirted Shrimp and the ball was scuffed past the floundering Clarke. From a corner. Another bloody corner. We can't defend them, and we can't score from them. I know our first team coach Andy Melville is supposed to be a nice bloke and a good technically. I don't know about that. All I can see is that we have failed to keep a clean sheet for 22 games, and can't defend a corner to save our lives. Nice bloke he might be, but on the factual evidence he isn't a good coach as far as the defence is concerned. The half time whistle blew straight after the goal with us 2-1 down, having given away two poor goals in a couple of minutes. We were all a bit shell-shocked in the stands, and I suspect on the pitch and in the dugout as well. The strikers had failed to take their chances, the midfield had given up the centre of the pitch as a lost cause and the defence had caved in yet again.

And what was worse is that we had seen us play decently for about 20 minutes. In that time we had got the ball down, got behind the poor Southend defence and passed decently. Then it had all evapourated. Well never mind, surely there would be changes made at half time. As the team wandered out for the second half, we all peered to see if there were tea stains on the white shirts and bits of china stuck in their hair. Boot marks on the back of their white shorts? Anything.

Judging by the vast majority of the second half performance, no tea cups had been injured in the half time break. The passing got worse, every header out of defence was aimed absolutely nowhere. Clist came on for Hall (who had been booked early in the match by the referee - more of him later) but it didn't make much difference. We didn't have an attempt on goal of any sort until another 15 minutes had gone, Beano heading rather weakly straight at the keeper. Surely Wilder had to make changes? He did. Heslop and Craddock came off, Potter and new boy Hackney came on. All planning was thown up into the air shortly afterwards when Batt was sent off for a mistimed challenge.

It wasn't a red card. No studs up, not two footed. Just a mistimed challenge. But the referee decided otherwise. No, that's not quite right. The Southend crowd decided, and the referee caved in. He had been doing that all match. If a Southend defender barged an Oxford player in the back, nothing. If a Southend player fell over a blade of grass and their crowd howled, it was a free kick and probably a booking. He was absolutely pathetic. We've had some incompetent refs this season, but they have generally been just useless. To both sides. Not this joker. If he could give a decision for Southend, he did. If he could ignore a foul against us, he did. The proof of this was literally a few minutes later, when a Southend player (Mohsni I think) slid in studs up straight into an Oxford players ankle, with the ball nowhere near. If Batt's was a red card, this surely had to be the same? It was a much, much worse challenge and premeditated. Sorry, I forgot. It was a Southend player who did it, so that was alright. As a match, these two 'decisions' just about finished it.

We huffed and puffed. We had a few (unthreatening) corners - surprise, surprise. Our passing stayed generally awful. Silly little flicks with the side of the boot, passing without looking up, hopeful hoofs into no-man's land. Southend just stopped us getting near their goal and we had few chances. Potter did get through once, but decided (as he often does) not to take responsibility and shoot, but to dink the ball across the goal instead. There was nobody there. SHOOT! FOR GOD'S SAKE SHOOT!

The final whistle brought the agony to an end. It was time to brave the M25 again. It was fairly clear, and once the immediate disappointment of the match started to dull a little, my chauffeur and I passed the time in the car dissecting the game.

Home not too late, trying to forget the fact that I had about 6 hours of driving to do next day.

Thoughts for the day:

Once the confidence ebbs, we lose the passing game and look very very ordinary indeed.
I don't think a single player covered themselves in glory tonight.
But Hackney looked useful. Quick, and ran with his head up.
I'd missed the reportedly awful home match against the same team, but fate was not to be cheated!
More tackling in midfield please.
We need to actually make more shooting opportunites and to use them - we can't score every goal from five yards or closer.
It's good fun to meet new fans.
No clean sheet - again.
Concede from a corner - again.
That imples that the coaching staff aren't learning from previous mistakes.
Batt will presumably be out for three games (straight red), maybe Purkiss will make us a bit more solid at the back?
Would Sangere give us a bit more solidity at corners - or maybe even be a midfield tackler?

Am I getting desperate? Not yet.

Gillingham is going to be tricky, let's hope we can turn it round. We've then got a week's rest before the next home game.

Thanks to Scoob for the lift and the conversation. If anyone wants a lift to Gillingham from MK/Northampton/Bedford, just PM me on the forum.