Alfie in his Pomp (vs Portsmouth L2)

Hello everyone,

A new season has dawned. I enjoy listening to the cricket, but God it's been a long time since meaningful football. So much so that I'd taken in the Ardley, Brum and Coventry preseason friendlies. Moderately entertaining, but you just don't get that 'matchday' feeling. So it was with excitement unbefitting to my advancing years that I set off for Grenoble Road. No, I haven't gone mad. I decided (what with all the 'parking in Portsmouth' horror stories) that I would potter down to the stadium and get on a coach. Those windows won't lick themselves you know! After catching the coach by the absolute skin of my teeth - held up by a series of drivers who think a 50 mph limit really means you can only drive at 30 - I was ferried down to Fratton Park in comfort.

Fratton Park is a great stadium. A bit rubbed round the edges (but the grafitti covers that up!), it has obviously seen better days. It's not a soulless identikit stadium though, which counts for a lot, there's a reasonable amount of space for away supporters and it does have atmosphere. Walking to the ground, it was fairly obvious that some Pompey supporters are having trouble realising that they are in League 2. "F*cking saddos", a Portsmouth shirt wearing neanderthal abused us as we walked towards the away end. Sad in what way? Because we support our club? Because we are in League 2? Because we had sold out our away allocation? You're in L2 as well you know - hope you don't hurt your knuckles as they drag along the ground.

Anyway, into the stadium. Looking around it's not surprising that they were considering moving when times were better for them. Fratton Park doesn't look big enough to contain the egos of Prem footballers, although I bet that the club are now glad they haven't ended up with a huge white elephant to play in. We were in a stand behind one goal. The stand to our left was a little odd, having been dug to under the level of the pitch. That meant that the eye level of the first couple of rows of punters was at pitch level. Must give an odd view. The far stand was sponsored by Jobsite (presumably might come in useful for the players if they manage to add to Portsmouth's impressive recent collection of relegations), with the one to the right sponsored by a Mercedes-Benz car dealership, which seemed a contrast! The far stand had the usual 'images picked out in different coloured seats' malarkey. They always look a bit odd. The one to the right of the stand was the Pompey crest. The one to the left was, I think, a face. But since 'seat art' is comparable in resolution to early eighties computer games pixel graphics it was absolutely impossible to make out who it was supposed to be. I apologise for my ignorance.

I don't always bother to sit in my allotted seat, but having found the one I'd actually bought I decided to sit in it as it gave a decent view - halfway back to the left of the goal. Which was fine until another chap turned up and asked if I was sitting in his seat. He showed me his ticket. Oops yes, he had this seat. I dug my ticket out of my pocket. Hold on, I had this seat too. Both tickets were identical! Same block, same row, same seat number. How on earth had that happened? Presumably the tickets had been supplied by Portmouth preprinted - sort it out Pompey! Happily enough the other chap wasn't that bothered - I'd have moved elsewhere if he was - and he found another seat.

The atmosphere built as kickoff approached. The yellows end was packed and the rest of the ground filled rapidly. As well as being packed, the yellow end was noisy. The far stand had a card display saying  '-OURS-', we had a giant flag. There seemed to be a certain cockiness about the Portsmouth fans. Surely they were 'too big for this league'? Surely all the other clubs in the FL basment division were just going to roll over, so they could start their march back up the leagues to their 'rightful place'? There are loads of clubs and their supporters who fall victim to this blinkered arrogance. Some not so far from home maybe - and we all know what happens when you start thinking like that! Perhaps someone would like to give them Luton Town Supporters Club's phone number!

The teams rans out to an amazing din from all four sides of the ground. I have to say that this season's kit is a hit with me. I like the more orange, less acid yellow and the darker shorts look very smart. Never mind the nylon, who was inside it? Well I think we all picked most of the team beforehand. Clarke, Newey, Wright, Mullins and Hunt at the back, with Whing in front of them as the midfield stopper. Potter and Rigg as the wide men with Rose in the more attacking central midfield role. Kitson and Smalley up front. I would have preferred Constable instead of Smalley, (don't worry there is a helping of humble pie coming up later!) but those who had seen CWs preseason teams wouldn't have been surprised.

If I'm honest, it started much as I thought it would. Portsmouth playing at a million miles an hour, us second best much of the time. Were some of our players a bit overawed by the atmosphere? Was it a cunning plan to sit tight for the first half? We showed little real ambition going forwards and were a yard slower in midfield. As a result, Portsmouth had a lot of the ball. But the longer it went on, the more it became apparent that they were actually doing precious little with it. Lots of passing backwards and forwards, with little penetration. They had a header over and Mullins flashed one past their post, but in truth there was a lot of huff and puff from Pompey and little end result.

That all changed after about 25 minutes when a lovely cross from a Portsmouth wide player was deftly headed into our goal past a helpless Clarke. The complacency levels in the home stands rose. This was what was supposed to happen, right? The Yellow Army responded maginficently, roaring the players on despite the setback. Suddenly the players raised their game. Whing went forward and shot toward the right side of their goal. It looked for all the world as if an equaliser was there, but the keeper suddenly appeared from behind a knot of players and made the save. Damn. But our central and wide midfield was now having to push further up the pitch, and was looking all the better for  it.

Alfie Potter suddenly did what I'd like to see him do more of. He went past his man, and put in a lovely cross. Smalley got himself into a great position and slotted it home. Three quarters of the stadium deflated like a punctured pre-kickoff beachball. The yellow quarter went bananas. Back to parity and about ten minutes left to half time.

Personally I was fairly happy with that. We had been second best for the first 25 minutes, so going in level at the break would be OK. But Mr Potter had other ideas. This time Sean Rigg was the provider, cutting the ball across the penalty area. Alfie made good ground and... well we've all seen this kind of chance skied over the bar. But not this time. He kept it down beautifully and we were in the lead. If we were jubilant after the equaliser, we were now delirious. 2-1 up! Excellent. Looking at the blue shirted Portsmouth players, shoulders were down. In the stands, blue shirted supporters had their heads in their hands. The realisation was dawning that it wasn't going to be quite as easy as they had assumed. The songs in the away end were getting louder and even prouder.

Halftime came with us well on top. The Pompey players looked as if they had just been told their dog had died. It was a pity there wasn't another five minutes - we would have scored again. I can't remember if there was much half time entertainment. Jim Smith came onto the pitch and was applauded by both sets of fans, the 50/50 raffle was a measly three hundred quid or so for an 18,000 crowd. Times are hard in Portsmouth, obviously. I hadn't bought a ticket, putting my change into a Dave Langan bucket instead.

The second half started and any idea that we might have lost the momentum we had built up in the first half were soon put to bed. There was only one team going to score next. And that was made even more likely when the Portsmouth skipper, obviously not happy that his big day out was going wrong, decided that an elbow to Danny Rose's head was a sensible thing to do. About three yards from the ref. Very bright. Almost as bright as the red card he was deservedly shown. Rose stayed down for some time, but eventually recovered and came back onto the pitch. So now we were one up, in the ascendancy and against ten men.

Very shortly we were two up. Alfie (that man again) went down the right wing, cut back inside and as the Portsmouth defenders failed to do anything much (tackling, closing down, anything) took aim and in front of the yellow faithful put the ball past the keeper inside the near post. More mayhem in the yellow end. Amazingly enough, with over 20 minutes to go Portsmouth supporters were now starting to make for the exits. What? Stay and support your team! When they are losing they need your support MORE than when they are winning.

Just five minutes later and that trickle of support out of the ground turned into a flood. Deane Smalley picked up a cross from the man Potter again, as as the Portsmouth defence a) fell over and b) arrived far too late, he scored his second of the afternoon. I have to admit that I was now actually laughing. 'Is there a fire drill?' we sang as we waved the opposition support out of the ground. What had started out looking as if it might be a difficult afternoon was now very comfortable indeed. There was still 20 minutes to go, enough time for Mullins to smack a header against the outside of the post, a Portsmouth player to make a nasty challenge on Kitson (who also got himself booked somehow), us to make three substitutions and Craddock to come on for his new club and cock up several (half) chances. By the time the ref put Portsmouth out of their misery the home stands were at least a quarter empty, the away stand was singing and cheering fit to bust.

A bit of a queue to get out of the ground, back to Oxford on the coach and then a drive back home.

Reading that back, there is quite a lot I haven't mentioned. Kitson made a huge difference. Laying the ball off, tackling, chasing down defenders, bringing other players into the game. More of a provider than scorer perhaps (although I think that will change) - he was excellent.  Our defence was very solid, with Portsmouth actually having very few chances.

We certainly looked better when being more aggressive and forward thinking rather than trying to contain.

Man of the match was Potter. By a mile. If he can keep that up, or anything near it, he will be a shining star in our season.

And finally, I've put some humble pie in the oven to warm up. I thought it was a mistake to offer Deane Smalley another year. But actions speak louder than words and his form and application so far have been excellent. Keep it up Deane - if it means more success for you and Oxford I am very happy indeed to be wrong. Is it OK if I have custard on it?

Next match - Charlton in the League Cup. I can't get to South London on a weekday evening in time for that one. Good luck to those who go (it will be a much changed team according to CW), and I'll see you next Saturday at our first home game of the season.

Come On You Yellows.