THE AWAY END - CARLING CUP SPECIAL 28-9-07
John Powls
After the derby disappointment and the injury toll against the Mackems we're far from sure what team Boro will turn out tonight and what frame of mind they'll be in.
Will our shortage of strikers mean we see any more square-peggism? Will we move away from a 4-4-2? Will we see anything of Tom Craddock? Will Simba give us all a shock and rise to the challenge of being lead striker. Will Gate have 'learned' anymore about conceding goals in the 'red-zones' at the start and finish of each half - just how many bitter lessons does he need? Will The Boat find a red shirt with a pass - sometimes it seems he'd struggle to do that in the club shop - but we need his grit and grind tonight!? Will Woody play?
We travel in hope! This is our Cup and we want it back. This competition will undoubtedly be our best (only!) chance of a trophy and a return to Europe this season. Phil and I have seen us win under lights here before - 3-0 back in the 98-99 season when Ricard got a brace and Kinder (that took some raking from memory!) got the other.
But we missed the win here in our Cup winning season - how could anyone have predicted that Ricketts would be a hero - his one and only time?! Come to think of it, as we talk, we think we've seen more Boro wins on this London ground than any other.
Another brace for Ricard in the 99-2000 season in a 3-2. 3-0 in 02-03; Maccarone, Geremi and Job (sounds like a surreal firm of Dickensian undertakers). There are a few draws in there too. And will they rest players with the Prem and UEFA being their priorities - but can Jol risk a home defeat?
The Lane always seems to me to have the most potential atmosphere of any of the Capital's Prem grounds - rebuilt, but still on its original tight, back street site; so, steep sided and everything close to the pitch - the best video screens anywhere.
It can rock when the atmosphere is right and the game is good and with the lights on it has a certain something. The ground - and The Away End isn't quite full tonight but there is a healthy crowd.
Despite the big Turkish community in this part of London there don't seem to be any Tuncay fans in The Away End - maybe they got wind of his injury soon enough not to buy tickets.
But I say 'potential' because their crowd - like many in London - have their foibles. They can be slow to rouse, quicker than most to get on the teams' backs and a bit humourless. They sometimes seem prone to aggression in a way you don't feel in and around many other Prem grounds nowadays.
As evidenced by all the will he/won't he be sacked stuff about Jol the club also have a tendency to self-destruction - if there isn't a problem they'll invent one, the fans I know at work would say.
Their recent rate of player purchase indicates no lack of money or maybe (if you listen to the pessimists amongst the fans) the pre-cursor to a Leeds-like financial implosion at some point.
Gristleburger - with onions and cheese, sir? Of course!
We're in the Upper Tier and climb the seemingly endless flights of bare concrete steps that I could do with crampons, rope and oxygen for (as well as losing more than half my age and bodyweight!). This means that we don't talk for a few minutes when we find the seats, largely because I can't! Phil (who is less than half my age and, seemingly, half my bodyweight) silently flaunts his youth and fitness as he leafs through the programme.
I've had to come straight from work too and feel distinctly over-dressed in a business suit, particularly when I'm panting and sweating! It's colder than of late and a late shower slicks the pitch - perfect weather for a match.
We get the answers to some of our questions straight away. Woody's not playing but we're going to see Shawky's debut. For some reason Brad Jones is in goal - we don't take that as an encouraging sign. We're clearly going to line up 4-5-1 with Simba as a lone striker.
Jol has taken no risks and has put out his strongest side, bar one or two, with a bench full of internationals.
It doesn't take long to get the answers to some others too. We do our level best to ship a 'red zone' goal in the early stages but fail. And The Boat still doesn't hit a red shirt with a pass. Sadly he's not on his own in that.
For all of the first half we fail to string one pass together. We are formless and ragged. Whether playing an unfamiliar formation is contributing to that along with the changes to personnel, who knows. Whatever, we're atrocious.
Stewie provides an early pass for Rocky and his shot from outside the area in the first couple of minutes stretches Robinson. At the end of the half Riggs contrives to shoot over from five yards out in an almost carbon copy scenario in which Huth scored here last season. (Huth? You remember him - big German lad; came from Chelsea. No - me neither.)
In between, and for 43.5 of the 46 minutes playing time of the first half we are penned into our own half; outpassed and outclassed. They have a few clear cut chances and fluff some. Brad Jones, to his credit, makes four excellent saves to keep us in it.
If we're intending to play 4-5-1 it ends up 5-5 and they end up playing 1-5-4, almost embarrassed by their dominance and not knowing quite what to do to get by our almost lifeless semi-corpses. We have no out ball and no-one even near the half way line, let alone over it - so we don't get out. When they get bored and lose the ball we give them it straight back.
I'd like to be able to report positively on Shawky's debut and it clearly didn't do him any favours to find himself in the middle of our turmoil but the game passed him by. He seemed bemused by their pace and movement. Let's hope for better things.
Only two other things of note in the first half - Rocky tries to disembowel Huddlestone with the blades on his boots after the big lad has trodden on his Achilles; we get the free-kick, Rocky gets a yellow card. And, in The Away End, one of our cheerleaders is attempting to lead choral evensong with associated swaying. Several stewards appear to try to get him to sit down but they are countered by the rest of The Away End rising to their feet as one - they can't throw us all out. Stewards retreat.
The half time whistle puts us out of our misery, temporarily. Phil and I agree that we're lucky to have got nil. In fact, were goals to be docked to be for being awful we'd be minus four.
It's my mate Ian's birthday. His better half has asked what he wants to do. "Nothing that involves spending money but allows me to listen to the match would be ideal," is his response.
I can imagine him sitting at a restaurant table, having failed on the not spending money bit, with a pair of headphones on - not talking back to your good lady during meals out isn't a problem when you've been married as long as we have - and occasionally leaping up, cheering or cursing like someone with Tourette's.
This probably isn't what his missus had in mind!
At half time Phil and I laugh about a story in the London evening free sheets. Apparently, Reading's Leroy Lita has been caught in some sort of sex scandal shock-horror-probe and Steve Coppell is asked about it in his press conference before last night's game against Liverpool. He says he is investigating but hasn't "got to the bottom of it yet. I don't know the ins and outs."
We wonder if the quote is made up or, if it's real, was Coppell tongue in cheek. Or was that Lita?
Tom Craddock has been warming up through the half time break and he replaces the hapless Shawky at the start of the second half as we revert to 4-4-2. Immediately the team seems much more comfortable and we make more passes and spend more time in their half. Craddock looks as though he's not phased by his debut and already looks a mile better than Simba who is still wandering aimlessly and to no effect.
We still don't look remotely like troubling Robinson, though. Having said that they don't trouble Jones either until we get half way through the half.
Then they suddenly remember what to do to unhinge us now that we haven't got all ten of our outfield players camped on our eighteen yard box. They start breaking on us fast. Brad Jones is forced into another excellent point blank save from a Defoe header.
To the evident displeasure of the Spurs faithful Defoe is relieved of his job of missing gilt-edged chances and replaced by Keane. The cleverness and speed of their front four slices through us twice in two minutes. Brad Jones might have done better with the first, having been beaten on his narrow side but had little chance with the second.
There is some dispute about the first around the great mystery of the 'interfering with play' interpretation of offside. The goal stands but Paul Barron sits - as he is sent to the stands for protesting too much.
The game is up - even though there are fifteen minutes left - and everyone knows it. We make our remaining subs to give another youngster - Owens - a run out and Young a brief rest.
There being little of interest on the pitch the attention turns to baiting each other in the stands. The stewards get all macho and heavy handed about people standing up, shouting and chanting. They try to eject one of our number and as the chap is going down the stairway he is pushed by a steward unnecessarily and heavily. He is fortunate not to be hurt.
This provokes a justified, furious reaction and after a fracas in the stairwell in which the police seem to be acting as peace-makers our reluctant hero re-emerges into his place in The Away End. As the Chief Steward emerges and makes his way across the gangway below us he realises his mistake in a) being bald, b) carrying a bit too much weight and, c) wearing a suit!
One of the more amusing chants from our crowd pokes fun at a particular piece of North London argot as we break into "What the f***k's a wenka?"
The game stutters to a close. We've been well beaten by a better side. We're not going to get our Cup back this season and our best/only chance of Europe has gone again.
We witness another crack piece of stewarding - they're having a 'mare. One of their fans, overcome by the excitement of the moment (he can't get out much, poor soul) invades the pitch. Several stewards chase him but he's too nippy and they are left trailing in his wake.
He reaches the objects of his veneration and has fully thirty seconds with them whilst the lumbering horde in the orange fluorescent jackets catch up. Despite the fact that he is docile and standing still the first on the scene launches into a full length diving rugby tackle and grounds the miscreant to the ironic cheers around the ground.
As Phil and I set off on the journey home, surrounded by jubilant Spurs' fans we discuss what we can take from the game? Well, Craddock looks worth a place on the bench from now on. He must replace Simba there when Mido and Tuncay are fit. It's not fair to go on lambasting Simba. He hasn't got what it takes and he isn't going to get it any time soon.
It's not his fault if Gate, in some misguided pursuit of justifying his decision to sign him, keeps putting him in the firing line and he keeps failing - as he will - and it will destroy what little confidence he has left. A spell in the less challenging world of the reserves may help - but even then I'm not sure.
4-5-1 isn't going to do us any good unless we commit to understanding how to play it properly and we have the right personnel in the side. Let's stick to 4-4-2 or, at worst go with 4-3-3.
Brad Jones had the best game I've seen him have in our first team but I remain to be convinced overall. Wheats was the best of our defenders again and Luke Young showed some improvement back at the club where he started his career.
Against all of that we were awful, individually and collectively, in the midfield; Tayls' form is not what it was and Riggs isn't Woody. Stewie sparked only sporadically. And yet again when we pushed up we were wide open at the back.
You can't put all of our poor performance down to our weakened side. We could and should have done much, much better and this doesn't bode well for the rest of the season.
I read this morning that Gate has said that he doesn't want losing to become a habit. Well, unless some of the real issues we've got are addressed then, if not a habit, we're going to have to get used to it. The run of games we've got coming up would be a challenge even if we were playing well - and we're not.
The Away End returns on Sunday 30th September after the Everton game in which our hero will be recounting The Away End experience as filtered through the Sky lens.
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John Powls is a published poet with five books of his work in print. He is a regular performer of his work at major literary festivals and exhibitions in the UK and America, often working with musicians, painters with photographer Carol Ballenger.
Check out Red Shoes 250 for more of John Powls, right here.
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