One Game at a Time: You’re Only here for the Fat Rascals
Rotherham United (A) April 5th
It is a source of much disappointment that Charles Dickens died in 1870 and so was never able to cast his eye over the sport of football to any great degree. He would have had a field day.
The closest we ever got was the Dingley Dell Football Club, named for the cricket club in his breakout work, The Pickwick Papers, who were founded in 1858, only played away games and were regarded as the MCC of football teams, with a codified set of rules that greatly resembled the eventual set codified by the Football Association.
What Dickens would have made of the Premier League, the fit and proper persons rules, football hooligans, financial scandals and the activities of some players and their WAGS one can but imagine.
Argyle went into the second half of a crucial Easter Double, a tale of two Cities, having performed creditably at Norwich, but, as has been the case for the majority of the season on our travels, without reward.
A packed Home Park awaited the second instalment of the tale as previous tormentors Twine and Manning headed West, seeking to inflict a continuation of the run that had seen Argyle goalless, pointless and on two occasions threatless for the four previous home matches. A fifth would be the longest ever such run at Home Park, and, as ever dependent on plot points elsewhere, a potentially huge turning point in Argyle’s seasons story.
As Dickens began in his Tale…..
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”
The line-up selected by Ian Foster was surprising, as was the way they lined up and, for twenty-five minutes or so it looked like a page was being turned. Corners were forced, attempts were struck, chances created but missed. A boisterous atmosphere betrayed little signs of previous toxicity. Then, as Brizzle grew into the game, the familiar frailties emerged, and the introduction of three half time subs turned the tide. Cooper made an excellent save from Mehmeti, a familiar tormentor of the Home Park faithful, to be followed immediately by another reflex stop from the follow up, but this served only to loop the ball into the path of Wells, who in the tradition of old-style forward play put “ball and everything” into the net.
From then to the end of the game, an end that effectively came twelve minutes early, when a reckless challenge from Devine, already on a yellow, saw the Spurs youngster dismissed, City played without any great duress.
For Ian Foster, the die was cast, and the unwanted worst home run ever record was superseded by the equally unwanted “shortest managerial reign at Argyle” ever. Not so much a case of a far far better thing he did than he has ever done. More a realisation that, whilst not the baying mob of the Preston game, the wheeling out of Madame Guillotine was the only solution that would satisfy the crowd.
In truth, Foster looked as if, much like Sydney Carton, he had accepted his fate at the press conference for the game. The time is too soon for a detailed reflection of what went wrong, both for him and for Argyle. I have no doubts he has talents as a coach, as well as manifest weaknesses in other aspects of the job requirements. I don’t doubt he gave us his all, but the change in mood since Tuesday tells its own story.
Time will tell if the decision to remove him and replace him with his predecessors as caretakers will bear the fruit expected, of a stronger happier dressing room, and a return to the cavalier style of football which entertained and enthralled earlier in the season. And the points needed to maintain our upward trajectory.
The second Dewsnip/Nancekivell era begins as it did previously, preceding the departure of the previous management team Saigon style on the last chopper out of Plymouth, with a game against Rotherham. Nance is now a four-time caretaker, which also sets him apart. He is already up to 59 days in charge in those spells, although his only victory was his solitary spell as sole caretaker and was the ill-fated relegation day against Scunny. So best not dwell on that.
Rotherham come into the game on the back of that all too rare thing for them, a victory. Let’s hope they have got it out of their system. In effect anything other than a win for them tonight means they are relegated, as the only side they can catch, other than their fellow bottom dwellers Wednesday and Huddersfield, are Argyle. They would have to win all their games, Argyle lose all theirs, and in the process overturn a negative goal difference balance of 39 goals. I am not sure even the recently fined for cash laundering Bet365 would have the temerity to give you odds on that happening. (What am I saying, of course they would….).
Under nearly new boss Leam Richardson, who was installed shortly before they visited Home Park, the club’s fortunes have not shown any great sign of improving. However, their four victories have come at home at the expense of Pre-Finn Middlesbrough, Coventry, Norwich and of course, on Saturday, Millwall, so they can put together a performance. They also drew with Ipswich and narrowly lost 4-3 at Portman Road, so without going all IF, they cannot be taken for granted.
They are also carrying some injuries, and whilst Plymouth born Sean Morrison may be on the way back in time for his hometown clubs visit, they also have a couple of unspecified knocks from the Monday fixture which will result in a shuffle of the pack.
One of the better stories in football Charlie Wyke, back playing after a cardiac arrest in training when at Wigan and who scored the winner against the “wall” may replace past Argyle nemesis Tom Eaves, the poundshop Andy Carroll, scorer of a hat-trick for Gillingham in the “near miss” season ender in 2017, and who equalised for the ten men at Home Park before the late Whittaker finish that typified the spirit that Argyle hope to be returning post managerial changes. Wyke was saved in part by his now bosses performing of CPR whilst the ambulance arrived. That’s a bond that will last.
The good news for Ryan Hardie is that his PTSD is unlikely to be triggered by selection tonight as his assailant in the first game, that left him concussed and out for several weeks, Ruben Ayala, departed in the transfer window, presumably to audition for the Spanish edition of Assassin’s Creed. Argyle will also be hoping that Mustapha Bundu escapes the attentions of a defensive challenge that was apparently only a yellow despite resulting in The Moose ending up needing a skin graft.
Former Argyle target Georgie Kelly moved on from the club in the transfer window, but one player who will literally be a returning Miller, is of course, Mickel Miller. Fondly remembered in his time at the New York, Miller will be itching to play, although muscle memory may see him have to be fetched from the treatment room to get changed. Load up the Coen Brothers for the coach home and let’s admire again, Miller’s Crossing.
Millers’ fans, will by all accounts be torn tonight. Having accepted their fate some weeks ago, despite the improbably mathematic chance of staying up, winning against Argyle will be of assistance to their local rivals (at least in the Rotherham supported eyes, The Wendies). Whilst unlikely to figure in the minds of the players, United fans can take solace in a result that relegates them on a formal basis but may also help to do the same for their feathered neighbours.
There is no doubt that of all the remaining fixtures, this one looks on paper to be the most winnable. And unfortunately, that sentence is equally applicable to either side.
It seems unfortunate that it has taken the dismissal of the coach to drive the club spirit back into a semblance of unity and optimism. Wilkins Micawber, the eternally impoverished optimist in David Copperfield, lived by the mantra that “something will turn up”. A decent ref would be a start.
Most long term football fans tend to follow the mantra that , if something can go wrong then it will, be that Matt Butchers bizarre own goal, a last minute ricochet off a Coventry centre half that cost us two valuable points, Keith Stroud being appointed match referee, or, as tonight the fourth official being the man who so far this season has disallowed us a perfectly good goal at Southampton, and booked almost an entire side on Good Friday. Seven bookings from twelve fouls is going some. Norwich committed eleven for their, well, none. Nice to see you again Mr Linington.
The mood music from Argyle is that we should expect attacking intent. No score a goal and shut up shop. Very much, “please sir, can we have some more”? Against one of the divisions better keepers, or at least one of the most well practiced, Viktor Johansen, on his farewell tour before a seven figure release clause is triggered in the summer, we need to see the net bulging. And we need ideally the win to place the pressure on those around and importantly below us.
Optimism was a regular theme in Dickens works. He said ”Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every man has plenty; not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.”
Off to Toytown, as the Wendies disparage the New York Stadium, for a vital night of football, chosen by SKY as the perfect start to the weekends sport.
We can but hope.
COYG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rotherham United (A) April 5th
It is a source of much disappointment that Charles Dickens died in 1870 and so was never able to cast his eye over the sport of football to any great degree. He would have had a field day.
The closest we ever got was the Dingley Dell Football Club, named for the cricket club in his breakout work, The Pickwick Papers, who were founded in 1858, only played away games and were regarded as the MCC of football teams, with a codified set of rules that greatly resembled the eventual set codified by the Football Association.
What Dickens would have made of the Premier League, the fit and proper persons rules, football hooligans, financial scandals and the activities of some players and their WAGS one can but imagine.
Argyle went into the second half of a crucial Easter Double, a tale of two Cities, having performed creditably at Norwich, but, as has been the case for the majority of the season on our travels, without reward.
A packed Home Park awaited the second instalment of the tale as previous tormentors Twine and Manning headed West, seeking to inflict a continuation of the run that had seen Argyle goalless, pointless and on two occasions threatless for the four previous home matches. A fifth would be the longest ever such run at Home Park, and, as ever dependent on plot points elsewhere, a potentially huge turning point in Argyle’s seasons story.
As Dickens began in his Tale…..
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”
The line-up selected by Ian Foster was surprising, as was the way they lined up and, for twenty-five minutes or so it looked like a page was being turned. Corners were forced, attempts were struck, chances created but missed. A boisterous atmosphere betrayed little signs of previous toxicity. Then, as Brizzle grew into the game, the familiar frailties emerged, and the introduction of three half time subs turned the tide. Cooper made an excellent save from Mehmeti, a familiar tormentor of the Home Park faithful, to be followed immediately by another reflex stop from the follow up, but this served only to loop the ball into the path of Wells, who in the tradition of old-style forward play put “ball and everything” into the net.
From then to the end of the game, an end that effectively came twelve minutes early, when a reckless challenge from Devine, already on a yellow, saw the Spurs youngster dismissed, City played without any great duress.
For Ian Foster, the die was cast, and the unwanted worst home run ever record was superseded by the equally unwanted “shortest managerial reign at Argyle” ever. Not so much a case of a far far better thing he did than he has ever done. More a realisation that, whilst not the baying mob of the Preston game, the wheeling out of Madame Guillotine was the only solution that would satisfy the crowd.
In truth, Foster looked as if, much like Sydney Carton, he had accepted his fate at the press conference for the game. The time is too soon for a detailed reflection of what went wrong, both for him and for Argyle. I have no doubts he has talents as a coach, as well as manifest weaknesses in other aspects of the job requirements. I don’t doubt he gave us his all, but the change in mood since Tuesday tells its own story.
Time will tell if the decision to remove him and replace him with his predecessors as caretakers will bear the fruit expected, of a stronger happier dressing room, and a return to the cavalier style of football which entertained and enthralled earlier in the season. And the points needed to maintain our upward trajectory.
The second Dewsnip/Nancekivell era begins as it did previously, preceding the departure of the previous management team Saigon style on the last chopper out of Plymouth, with a game against Rotherham. Nance is now a four-time caretaker, which also sets him apart. He is already up to 59 days in charge in those spells, although his only victory was his solitary spell as sole caretaker and was the ill-fated relegation day against Scunny. So best not dwell on that.
Rotherham come into the game on the back of that all too rare thing for them, a victory. Let’s hope they have got it out of their system. In effect anything other than a win for them tonight means they are relegated, as the only side they can catch, other than their fellow bottom dwellers Wednesday and Huddersfield, are Argyle. They would have to win all their games, Argyle lose all theirs, and in the process overturn a negative goal difference balance of 39 goals. I am not sure even the recently fined for cash laundering Bet365 would have the temerity to give you odds on that happening. (What am I saying, of course they would….).
Under nearly new boss Leam Richardson, who was installed shortly before they visited Home Park, the club’s fortunes have not shown any great sign of improving. However, their four victories have come at home at the expense of Pre-Finn Middlesbrough, Coventry, Norwich and of course, on Saturday, Millwall, so they can put together a performance. They also drew with Ipswich and narrowly lost 4-3 at Portman Road, so without going all IF, they cannot be taken for granted.
They are also carrying some injuries, and whilst Plymouth born Sean Morrison may be on the way back in time for his hometown clubs visit, they also have a couple of unspecified knocks from the Monday fixture which will result in a shuffle of the pack.
One of the better stories in football Charlie Wyke, back playing after a cardiac arrest in training when at Wigan and who scored the winner against the “wall” may replace past Argyle nemesis Tom Eaves, the poundshop Andy Carroll, scorer of a hat-trick for Gillingham in the “near miss” season ender in 2017, and who equalised for the ten men at Home Park before the late Whittaker finish that typified the spirit that Argyle hope to be returning post managerial changes. Wyke was saved in part by his now bosses performing of CPR whilst the ambulance arrived. That’s a bond that will last.
The good news for Ryan Hardie is that his PTSD is unlikely to be triggered by selection tonight as his assailant in the first game, that left him concussed and out for several weeks, Ruben Ayala, departed in the transfer window, presumably to audition for the Spanish edition of Assassin’s Creed. Argyle will also be hoping that Mustapha Bundu escapes the attentions of a defensive challenge that was apparently only a yellow despite resulting in The Moose ending up needing a skin graft.
Former Argyle target Georgie Kelly moved on from the club in the transfer window, but one player who will literally be a returning Miller, is of course, Mickel Miller. Fondly remembered in his time at the New York, Miller will be itching to play, although muscle memory may see him have to be fetched from the treatment room to get changed. Load up the Coen Brothers for the coach home and let’s admire again, Miller’s Crossing.
Millers’ fans, will by all accounts be torn tonight. Having accepted their fate some weeks ago, despite the improbably mathematic chance of staying up, winning against Argyle will be of assistance to their local rivals (at least in the Rotherham supported eyes, The Wendies). Whilst unlikely to figure in the minds of the players, United fans can take solace in a result that relegates them on a formal basis but may also help to do the same for their feathered neighbours.
There is no doubt that of all the remaining fixtures, this one looks on paper to be the most winnable. And unfortunately, that sentence is equally applicable to either side.
It seems unfortunate that it has taken the dismissal of the coach to drive the club spirit back into a semblance of unity and optimism. Wilkins Micawber, the eternally impoverished optimist in David Copperfield, lived by the mantra that “something will turn up”. A decent ref would be a start.
Most long term football fans tend to follow the mantra that , if something can go wrong then it will, be that Matt Butchers bizarre own goal, a last minute ricochet off a Coventry centre half that cost us two valuable points, Keith Stroud being appointed match referee, or, as tonight the fourth official being the man who so far this season has disallowed us a perfectly good goal at Southampton, and booked almost an entire side on Good Friday. Seven bookings from twelve fouls is going some. Norwich committed eleven for their, well, none. Nice to see you again Mr Linington.
The mood music from Argyle is that we should expect attacking intent. No score a goal and shut up shop. Very much, “please sir, can we have some more”? Against one of the divisions better keepers, or at least one of the most well practiced, Viktor Johansen, on his farewell tour before a seven figure release clause is triggered in the summer, we need to see the net bulging. And we need ideally the win to place the pressure on those around and importantly below us.
Optimism was a regular theme in Dickens works. He said ”Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every man has plenty; not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.”
Off to Toytown, as the Wendies disparage the New York Stadium, for a vital night of football, chosen by SKY as the perfect start to the weekends sport.
We can but hope.
COYG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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