You couldn't write stuff like that
After a decent team effort & a thoroughly deserved victory at Crystal Palace last Tuesday, on comes the small matter of the sheep. I’d have taken a draw at the start of the game, but boy would I have taken a point AND a comedic refereeing performance thrown in for good measure.
The first half was largely uneventful, save for Joe Garner getting under the skins of the D***y centre halves. Forest had a goal (incorrectly, as it turned out) disallowed, but to be fair, the D***y goalkeeper & defenders had stopped for the whistle. This meant nothing in an otherwise typical cut-and-thrust-derby first 45 minutes, but in hindsight ………
Forest came out in the second half and were transformed. Heavy possession turned into chances, chances turned into corners which eventually turned into the opening goal. Our plucky Irish centre forward, Owen Goal, picking up where he left off at Palace. And Preston. And Wolves. Four for the season makes him our top scorer, and best of all, he didn’t cost us anything.
D***y’s equaliser will go down as bad defending. Or offside, depending on which side of the pitch you were stood. Ex film star Emmanuel Villa miscontrolling the ball home from a shockingly bad Bubbles Devere free-kick. The linesman who was so keen to raise his flag in the first half suddenly coming down with a case of ‘arm-lock’, impeding his ability to stick his flag where he should, either in the air or where the sun don’t shine.
Lewis McGugan then showed the kind of spirit sadly missing from this derby, and football in general, as he cleanly won a loose ball in midfield. When I was a lad, he’d have won the ball, lit a woodbine and stroked the ball to the outside right, all to rapturous applause from all four sides of the ground. In this day and age all he got was first use of the Jojoba conditioner in the centrally heated jacuzzi in the dressing room.
Into injury time and a point seemed a fair result for both sides. Forest defending deep with ten men, D***y launching balls into the stand at every opportunity.
You couldn’t write what followed, and if you did, Sylvester Stallone would have to play the lead roll.
A cross from the right is beaten away, but only back to where it came, another cross, a short looping clearance is headed home by a D***y inbred. But no, the referee is pointing somewhere other than the centre circle, and no-one quite knows where, maybe not even the referee at this point. It’s a penalty !!! Several Forest players surround the referee for an age, but not the goalkeeper. Cut to a replay, the ball has hit Luke Chambers just above the knee.
Now, when I went to school, that area was called your “thigh”. Stuart Atwell must have missed that particular class as he thought that area is now called your “hand”.
Cut back to the ball on the spot, Lee Camp on his line nursing a yellow card. He wasn’t even arguing. Ah well.
Bubbles Devere obviously didn’t fancy taking the penalty against his schoolboy heroes, but Lee Camp obviously didn’t mind saving it. Cue delirium in my sitting room and the red corner of S***e Park. He’s still got some work to do from the resulting corner which he again saves well, pushing the ball round the opposite post. Surely there’s not long to play now. The corner comes over, a crisp header and the balls in the back of the net. 2-1. It even says so on the screen. 2-1, in big blue and yellow numbers. 2-1.
Now, I’ve Sky plussed this moment back and forth maybe twenty, twenty-five times, and can I see anything wrong with the goal ? Can I buggery.
Two Forest players run up the other end of the pitch, but Owen Goal has long since given up and besides, the referee still hasn’t decided why he disallowed the goal, so how could we have taken the free-kick. Play restarts and play ends to a chorus of boos & whistles from the pitch-fork carrying Neanderthals.
So, the game ends in farce, but more importantly, another away point. Maybe, just maybe, the corner is being turned. Fingers crossed.
Obviously Paul Jewell isn’t happy, and that goes for most of the pond-life from the marsh land the other side of the M1.
But you know what ?
That just makes it funnier.
The first half was largely uneventful, save for Joe Garner getting under the skins of the D***y centre halves. Forest had a goal (incorrectly, as it turned out) disallowed, but to be fair, the D***y goalkeeper & defenders had stopped for the whistle. This meant nothing in an otherwise typical cut-and-thrust-derby first 45 minutes, but in hindsight ………
Forest came out in the second half and were transformed. Heavy possession turned into chances, chances turned into corners which eventually turned into the opening goal. Our plucky Irish centre forward, Owen Goal, picking up where he left off at Palace. And Preston. And Wolves. Four for the season makes him our top scorer, and best of all, he didn’t cost us anything.
D***y’s equaliser will go down as bad defending. Or offside, depending on which side of the pitch you were stood. Ex film star Emmanuel Villa miscontrolling the ball home from a shockingly bad Bubbles Devere free-kick. The linesman who was so keen to raise his flag in the first half suddenly coming down with a case of ‘arm-lock’, impeding his ability to stick his flag where he should, either in the air or where the sun don’t shine.
Lewis McGugan then showed the kind of spirit sadly missing from this derby, and football in general, as he cleanly won a loose ball in midfield. When I was a lad, he’d have won the ball, lit a woodbine and stroked the ball to the outside right, all to rapturous applause from all four sides of the ground. In this day and age all he got was first use of the Jojoba conditioner in the centrally heated jacuzzi in the dressing room.
Into injury time and a point seemed a fair result for both sides. Forest defending deep with ten men, D***y launching balls into the stand at every opportunity.
You couldn’t write what followed, and if you did, Sylvester Stallone would have to play the lead roll.
A cross from the right is beaten away, but only back to where it came, another cross, a short looping clearance is headed home by a D***y inbred. But no, the referee is pointing somewhere other than the centre circle, and no-one quite knows where, maybe not even the referee at this point. It’s a penalty !!! Several Forest players surround the referee for an age, but not the goalkeeper. Cut to a replay, the ball has hit Luke Chambers just above the knee.
Now, when I went to school, that area was called your “thigh”. Stuart Atwell must have missed that particular class as he thought that area is now called your “hand”.
Cut back to the ball on the spot, Lee Camp on his line nursing a yellow card. He wasn’t even arguing. Ah well.
Bubbles Devere obviously didn’t fancy taking the penalty against his schoolboy heroes, but Lee Camp obviously didn’t mind saving it. Cue delirium in my sitting room and the red corner of S***e Park. He’s still got some work to do from the resulting corner which he again saves well, pushing the ball round the opposite post. Surely there’s not long to play now. The corner comes over, a crisp header and the balls in the back of the net. 2-1. It even says so on the screen. 2-1, in big blue and yellow numbers. 2-1.
Now, I’ve Sky plussed this moment back and forth maybe twenty, twenty-five times, and can I see anything wrong with the goal ? Can I buggery.
Two Forest players run up the other end of the pitch, but Owen Goal has long since given up and besides, the referee still hasn’t decided why he disallowed the goal, so how could we have taken the free-kick. Play restarts and play ends to a chorus of boos & whistles from the pitch-fork carrying Neanderthals.
So, the game ends in farce, but more importantly, another away point. Maybe, just maybe, the corner is being turned. Fingers crossed.
Obviously Paul Jewell isn’t happy, and that goes for most of the pond-life from the marsh land the other side of the M1.
But you know what ?
That just makes it funnier.
posted by Lucky Col at
3:31 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home