So , down the maximum 50mph M1 and the congested M25 (doh!) to Barnet, who had won their last match. Admittedly their last match was against the hapless Plymouth, but even so. I left a bit earlier than I would normally - I'm sure those of you who have been reading this blog a while (and those who have driven to a match at Barnet of course) will remember that the 'car park' is actually the car park of High Barnet station. Only £1.50, but there aren't that many spaces, and some of them are inconsiderately used by people who actually want to use the tube. But I got there early enough to get a space, and sat eating my lunch and listening to Arsenal making a complete Horlicks of their match at Blackburn. There were lots of people driving into the car park during all this excitement (cold pizza and some crisps, if you're asking - I know how to live) and not finding any spaces. I hope everyone got somewhere reasonably close.
Once Blackburn scored their fourth (!), I made my way over to Underhill, home of hairy Hobbits. Except he wasn't starting, apparently having been send out by Evil Wizard Lorisanchez to buy some more pipeweed. Our team was the same as started at Dagenham - which meant my first sight of new boy Robert Hall. So, Clarke - Batt Wright Duberry Davis - Heslop McLaren Leven - Hall Constable Potter. Subs were Smalley Whing Payne Worley and other new loanee Andy Haworth.
We were housed in the east Stand (home from home!) which runs down the side of the pitch. Its divided into two with what looks like the stuff you put over strawberries to stop the birds nicking them. Barnet fans one end, us the other. There's a slope.
The north face of the Barnet slopeTwo things got in my way to start with - a pillar and a pillock.
Annoying pillar and grinning pillockAnyway, we kicked off playing left to right, wearing the blue and white away kit. I suppose there might have been a clash with the road mender orange that Barnet wear. Mind you the ref obviously didn't think so, as he wore yellow. Hi-Vis yellow. Normally people who wear hi-vis yellow jackets are jumped up jobsworths with ideas above their station, and inflated ideas of their own competence. Unfortunately Mr Berry in general conformed to this stereotype.
By kickoff it was getting pretty crowded in the Oxford part of the ground. Here is a picture of the massed ranks of Barnet faithful. Good job Aresenal weren't at home eh!
That's slightly unfair, as it was five minutes before kickoff. The crowd at that end swelled to about 25 eventually. I'd found a nice open part of the crowded Oxford terrace, only to realise why it was unpopulated as the first drips from the corroded gutter piping above me went down my neck. At least I hope it was a gutter and nothing to do with the toilets. I moved. Straight into the smelly smoke from a yellow smoke bomb. Cough.
Anyway, the match now started, us playing up hill. Alfie put a nice cross it that Beano arrived too late to connect with and Barnet started by playing the ball about reasonably well, if completely unthreateningly. Their main weapon were their corners of which they had a few in the first half of the first half. We looked dangerous on the break, but it seemed we'd gone one behind after about 20 minutes when Barnet got the ball in the net. But in homage to the Rugby World cup, a Barnet player had used an arm, so the referee gave a knock-on and we had a free kick. The Barnet crowd to our left (who had briefly woken from their pipeweed induced slumber to say hurrah!) shut up again. I had previously assumed that I hadn't been able to hear them singing, shouting or cheering their side on because of some fiendish trick of accoustics. But I heard them then. Which meant that there was no singing, cheering or shouting actually going on, the other side of the strawberry netting for the majority of the time. 'Lets pretend that we're at home' sang the yellow army. We might as well have been.
The ref was having a mare. He was giving free kicks every time a Barnet player got touched by an Oxford one. So we hated him. But in many cases, Barnet would rather have played on as they had the advantage (a rule that the ref didn't apply). So the Barnet lot hated him as well. But two wrongs don't make a right. He was dreadful. His booking of Jake Wright around this time was probably fair enough - Jake had let the attacker get the wrong side of him and brought him down. Barnet lumped the free kick towards their tall lumberng forwards to no effect.
Shortly afterwards, we went ahead. Alfie popped up on the left wing for a change, Leven spotted him and sent in a peach of a pass, Alfie collected it and sent in a low cross that was partially cleared. Now if there's one person in the Oxford team that, as an opposition defender, you wouldn't want to see on the outskirts of you penalty box with the ball, time and the whole goal to aim for - it would be Simon Heslop. The ball fell to him, he looked up, picked his spot and drove it into the net. The odd thing was that as soon as he got the ball under control, I and everyone around me, was just expecting the net to bulge. He didn't even vaguely look as if he was going to miss. An classy and composed finish. We went loopy of course. Excellent. One up with a quarter of an hour until half time. Could we hold the lead until then? Well, Barnet came straight back at us, and there were a couple of frantic moments in the Oxford penalty area, including a handball/penalty shout against Jake Wright. But the ball was lashed at him from about three yards, and his hands weren't waving about - so no penalty.
Hall then put in a good cross that there was no forward quick enough to catch up with, and we had a couple of other shots blocked. But then we did score. The excellent Liam Davis gathered the ball, passed inside to Leven. Leven with his second 'assist' (I hate that) of the match returned the ball to him - Davis had carried on his run, gathered the ball and smashed it into the side netting. Cue polite applause all around me. A good move. But hold on, why were our players all mobbing Davis? Why was the ref running back towards the centre spot? Why were the shoulders of the Barnet players drooping even lower? Well, of course - it was a goal! Everyone on the yellow terrace thought it had missed. Everyone was wrong. Eveyone including me is going to have to watch the highlights! Brilliant. After a moment or two of silence - more pandemonium. We kept going forward in search of a third, but half time (and a timely tackle on Alfie by a Barnet defender) put paid to that. Peep! Half time.
No dancing girls, just a little lad running up the centre line on his birthday. Generous applause from all supporters. Aaah.
Unless I've got that wrong, and it was Sam Deering doing his warm up. The diminutive ex-Us player came on for the second half. He didn't get much of a welcome from the Us fans , good or bad. He obviously does get a decent welcome from the local pie shops (wouldn't be any of those nasty foreign food places, would it Sam?) - he's grown a bit sideways if not vertically. He was rubbish. Kept losing the ball, hitting it straight out of play, running down blind alleys. All the while, somehow looking promising. It's a good trick, but one that the Oxford management eventually saw through.
Oxford started the half well, looking to increase their lead. Barnet defended decently, with players throwing themselves in front of the ball to stop us. Davis got booked for nothing much, fouls that one side got penalised for were let go for the other and apparently you can be offside even if you've started your run from your own half when the ball was kicked. Sigh.
Clarke made a good flying save, the Barnet goalie made a lucky save with an outstretched leg from Beano. Barnet had given up playing much football though and Sanchez, perhaps reverting to crazy gang type, had obviously decided that route one football was the order of the day. Hoof went the ball. Head went Duberry. Hoof went the ball. Head went Duberry. Sam Deering was probably getting neckache just watching. A Barnet forward had a headed chance, but headed down too much and the ball lofted over the bar. Clarke would have got it if it had been on target, as it was at a fairly tight angle.
Haworth came on for Heslop, showing some immediate touches of class and impressive pace, and couple of Leven free kicks caused trouble in the Barnet area, with one in particular being cleared either very luckily or extremely skillfully over his own bar by a Barnet player. With about a quarter of an hout to go, the influential McLaren went off to be replace by Whing in central defensive midfield (where he looks happier than at right back to be honest) and Constable went off to be replaced by Smalley. Smalley quickly made a decent chance for hiself, but was denied by the Barnet keeper. Haworth was booked, and Barnet hit the post. It could have made for a nervy last few minutes if it had gone in, but in truth Barnet were a spent force.
There was one last sting in the tail. Wright tackled Deering who went down as if every bone beneath the waist was broken. The ref waited, Derring rolled about a bit more and Wright got his second yellow of the match and his marching orders. 'Its a miracle'. Deering then got up and ran about, like Lazarus with deep heat rubbed into his arse. Nasty little shit. Glad we got of him. So it will be a Duberry/Worley partnership on Saturday next. That should be interesting.
A bit more hoofing from Barnet, and that was that. Out quickly, stuck in the car park for a while and then through rainstorms and double rainbows to home.
Barnet are going to struggle this season if they keep playing that long ball stuff. Very ugly. And they seem to have two or three very similar forwards.
As far as we are concerned, I thought it was an all-around decent performance. Davis continues to impress, as does Leven. Alfie was dangerous again, and Doobs is a rock in defence. Clarke looks like the class keeper he is. I still have my concerns over the lack of closing down in midfield, and the strike force again failed to find the net with a defender and a midfielder scoring. But actaully I don't care where the goals come from.
Next match - home to Accrington. I've got to ferry all my uni-going daughters stuff down to Cardiff before the match, and get back in time for kick off. Wish me (and the jalopy) luck - especially since tomorrow's fun includes a trip to Bangor (and back) with all my uni-going sons stuff. And my uni-going son. As the Mighty Boosh's Bollo might say; 'I gotta bad feeling' about this'
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