retired_carlos.jango71

Yep, unfortunately we have a lot of fans who just don't understand football

Wrexham (Away)

"No, it’s Philpott’s goal against Bristol City, nothing will better that."

"Well how about Paul Wilson’s goal at Scunny. Scoring from the half way line is pretty special."

"That was wind assisted, that’s why I didn’t mention those ones from Clayton and Leadbitter. The best goal from the last few years is Alex Russell against Port Vale. Remember that one."

The FA must really like us. Wrexham away on a Wednesday night (we’ve got a better Wednesday game coming up on March 6th, Carlisle away). So it’s a 3.00pm departure from Tommy’s, with myself and Will in tow. Mick has a proper job, so he will be stuck at home listening on the radio.

Topic of discussion is that Tudor goal from Saturday, which Will rates as the best United goal he’s ever seen. Tommy and myself disagree (It would possibly make my top ten, possibly). My favourite ever United goal is probably the Alex Russell effort against Vale, a match which also featured the best 90 minutes of pass and move football I’ve ever seen from a United side. Early in the second half Perez collected the ball, and rolled it out to Steve McAnespie on the right. In a rare moment of quality (for him), McAnespie lofted a magnificent 50 yard pass right across to the left to Russell, who cut in from the wing and curled a great shot round the keeper from the edge of the box. Tremendous, that team could have gone far if Zema Abbey hadn’t buggered off.

Wrexham is an odd place. It's too far north for either Swansea or Cardiff really care about them, so fans of the Red Dragons (Formally known as the Robins, before they thought of cashing in on their Welshness) are forced to hate localish Conference outfit Chester.

Despite nearly being in England, all the road signs in Wrexham are also translated into Welsh, which must be the single most pointless exercise ever, seeing as only a tiny percentage of the local population speak the language. Anyway, that’s my anti-Welsh rant over, onto the match.

We have no time for a pre-match drink because Tommy decides to take a ‘short cut’ in order to avoid the rush hour traffic on the motorway. 45 minutes later, we’re heading away from Wrexham and towards Oswestry. Luckily we arrive at Wrexham’s ground 15 minutes before kick off.

The Racecourse used to be a bit of a dump, but a couple of years ago they redeveloped it and it’s now one of the smartest grounds in the league. Evidently they put a bit of thought into the design, because the roof of the stand we’re in is quite different to anything I’ve seen at any other ground, with a raised section in the middle. It’s a nice touch. Wrexham came down with us last year, and were among my favourites to bounce straight back. In Darren Ferguson (apparently his dad owns a racehorse), they have a player two divisions too good for Division Three, and have added experience to their defence in the form of Ian Nolan and Carl Bradshaw.

We’re without Kitson, who’s injured, so Omer’s back in his rightful striking position, while Guttridge is fit again and returns to central midfield. I think this will be our toughest game of the season, so it’s a bit of a shock when we take a third minute lead. In his previous spell at the club, everyone thought Riza was just a box player, but since he’s been back he’s shown he’s a nifty passer too, and he demonstrates this again by dropping deep to receive the ball, and lofting a terrific pass over Nolan for the Marauding Tudor, who volleys another spectacular goal across the keeper and into the top left hand corner.

Roles are reversed ten minutes later, when a clever pass from Tudor sets Riza on a clear run on goal. Although Gareth Downey makes a good save to block his initial shot, Omer is on hand to tuck away the rebound.

This has all been too easy so far, Wrexham have hardly got out of their own half. Unwisely, we sit back, and allow the home side to pull one back within five minutes. A low shot from Carlos Edwards bounces unkindly in front of Shauny, who manages to push it out only as far as Lee Jones, who snaps up the loose ball. Jones scored five against us last season, and he and his fellow Dragons now have their tails up again. Although Tudor goes close, Dancing Shaun is the busier of the two keepers, saving well from Sarr, Jones and the wonderfully named Christodoulou. By half time its all square again thanks to Roy Hunter, who converts a Sarr cross for Wrexham’s second.

Like most fans, I dislike all seater stadiums. They are not a ready made answer to footballs safety problems, it generally costs more to get a ticket (£14 to watch a division three game is ridiculous in my view), and I always seem to be sat near some retard. When you’re on a terrace it’s easy to move away if someone’s annoying you. You can just casually sidle away when the person isn’t looking. However, in seats, moving mid-game is a tricky process, so you’re generally stuck with whoever your neighbour is.

Idiot of the day is a guy I vaguely know as Jim, who goes to every away match on the coach. Now, you would think that someone who sat through every clueless performance last year would be enjoying themselves this season (I certainly am) but not Jim. As soon as Wrexham score, he starts moaning:

"I don’t know why I come, I really don’t."

"This team are clueless. I could see that goal coming as soon as we kicked off."

"Typical Cambridge United. We never have been able to hold a lead."

Not only is he a miserable git, but for someone who watches so much football he is also totally clueless. Early in the second half Angus heads a goalbound effort from Jones off the line, and he turns to his mate/random person sitting next to him (the second option is more likely, as he’s always been a bit of a loner) and says:

"That was a terrific clearance by Kitson."

I don’t catch the reply, but manage to stifle a giggle seeing Kits isn’t even on the pitch. The Angus clearance is an isolated incident as we take control of the second half, but can’t find the net. The best chances fall to Youngs, who shoots over after bursting through, and Riza, who hits his shot straight down the throat of the keeper. Still, I would have taken a point at the start of play, but it very much feels like two dropped.

Tommy’s been uncharacteristically subdued because of the prospect of driving home. However a kebab soon cheers him up, and with the motor ways all being fairly clear we’re home by 1.15. At least I don’t have work tomorrow

retired_carlos.jango71

Kidderminster Harriers (Home)

When I was at school I always thought my dream job (after I’d realised that the career in professional football/Porn wasn’t going to happen) would be football reporter. However, since I left education I’ve tended to steer clear of football related work because I don’t like the idea of spending my Saturday watching a team who aren’t United while we’re playing somewhere else.

This led me to realise that my dream job is actually being paid to watch United play, which makes days such as today particularly satisfying. A mate of mine from college works on the Press Association sports desk, and when they need someone to cover a U’s match he gives me a call, as he did last week. Although this means I have to leave my usual spot in the Habbin, I do get to do some useful networking with the proper journalists in the press box, and I get paid.

I stroll into the ground at 1.55, and collect my ticket and press pass from the ticket office. As sad as it is (and despite the fact that I have a season ticket) I still feel a childish sense of self-importance when I pick up my ticket. The press box in the main stand is not the best. The view isn’t great because the box is ¾ of the way up the pitch, and there are a lot of pillars. Plus it’s quite small, so on a busy day there’s not a lot of elbow room. Luckily today there’s just me, a guy from Kidderminster, a guy from the Express and Steve Thompson of the Cambridge Evening News. The Express guy isn’t talkative, so I make do with chatting to Steve, who divulges the interesting, if not surprising news that Scully could soon be sacrificed to ease the wage bill.

On paper this should be a home banker. Kidderminster have not recovered from the summer loss of Jan Molby, and with only two wins all season lie fourth from bottom. They also have yet to pick up a point on the road, which is just the kind of record that usually ends at the Abbey.

Team news, which I receive a good 20 minutes before the rest of the crowd (the sad sense of self importance makes a reappearance when I’m handed my team sheet), is that Eddie Forest will make his debut alongside Angus in the continuing absence of Duncan. The defence needed a bit of a shake up after Tuesday’s performance, but I would have like to see Warren Goodhind given a go. Still, it’s about time Forest got his chance.

Press box etiquette dictates that you can’t get too excited when there’s a goal. I’ve struggled with this in the past, and I’m almost on my feet today when a quick free kick from Guttridge catches the visitors napping and Wanny’s fierce drive rebounds off the post. The first half is all United, with Guttridge particularly prominent, seeing two goalbound efforts blocked by Harriers defenders.

The second half begins as the first ended, and it seems it’s just a case of whether United will score or not. Henriksen does put the ball in the net in Kiddy’s one attack of purpose in the match, but the flag had long been raised for offside. The goal comes in the 51st minute. Simon Rodgers’ corner skims off Warners head at the near post, and falls to Riza, who pokes the ball home from close range.

We push on looking for a second, and Guttridge is denied a deserved goal by a good save from Brock. At the other end the skilful Henriksen is trying single handedly to drag Harriers back into the match, but fluffs a simple header, nodding it into the arms of Marshall. If only some of his team mates showed similar endeavour. United are worthy winners, and Riza should’ve doubled his personal tally in the last minute, when a long clearance from dancing Shaun finds him all on his own with just the keeper to beat. Unfortunately he has too much time to think about it, and takes one touch too many allowing Brock to whip the ball off his foot.

After the match I get an interview with Ian Britton, who is surprisingly cheerful for someone in charge of such an inept team. I also get my first chance to interview Fallon since he became manger. He is almost exactly as I imagined he would be; polite, intelligent and thoughtful. My faith that our team is in capable hands has been reinforced.

Everthing’s soon ready to go and sent to London. I’m absolutely knackered. This work lark is more trouble than it’s worth.

retired_embartl

Great Story LP

*Hopes Ginger Pete makes a re-appearance*

retired_carlos.jango71

Cheers Brian. Unfortunately for yours trully Fat Ginger bloke reappears every saturday

Hull (Home)

Having faced Fat Jan’s old team last week, we come up against his current team today in the form of Hull. With the visitors having already sold out their allocation in the South Stand, a good atmosphere is anticipated, which we will hopefully sample if we ever get to the ground.

We were going to drive but having arrived at Micks it turns out the car is at the garage having life prolonging surgery (it’s about time it was put out of its misery if you ask me) so we’re walking. Mick’s excited at the prospect of seeing his ex-hero Ian Ashbee again:

"I’m sure he’ll get a great reception. He was a great servant for this club, you have to admit that."

I’m not so sure. Ashbee never really fulfilled his potential with us, and the fact that he moved to another third division club suggests maybe he doesn’t have the potential to be fulfilled. Also he was absolutely terrible last season, when he was expected to hold the side together as one of the older heads. And then he had the cheek to ask for a pay rise. Hence he was told to get on his bike and ended up at Hull.

"Well he won’t get a good reception from me that’s for sure."

"Oh come on, we could really do with his passing skills this season."

"Bóllocks. We never saw his passing skills because he wasn’t fast enough to get out of his own half."

I don’t like Hull very much. Nothing personal against any Tigers reading, it’s just the attitude of the majority of your fans leaves a lot to be desired. Like many so called sleeping giants, they think that having a lot of money and a large fanbase automatically means they should be more successful than the likes of scruffy little Cambridge. Unfortunately for them, points aren’t handed out on the basis of who has the most fans, so it must be hard for them to swallow the fact that we’ve crammed more ups and downs into our 30 years than they’ve had in a hundred or however long. Oddly Peterborough suffer from sleeping giant syndrome as well, despite the fact they don’t have any money or many fans. I guess it’s easy to get delusions of grandeur when you’re stuck out in the middle of the fens on your own

Anyway, it looks like Hull might finally do something this season. The team are hovering on the edge of the play off zone, and they should prove a good test of our promotion aspirations. Just the one change for us. Forest, who made an uneventful debut against Kiddy, is replaced by Andy Duncan, back in action at last after a foot injury. I’m not a great fan of Duncan’s, mainly because of his inability to head the ball anywhere but straight up in the air. But we do tend to look a better side when he’s playing, so it’s good to see him back. Shock team news for the visitors is that Ash is nowhere to be seen, despite all sources (OK, that’s just the Cambridge Evening News then) suggesting he would play.

It also turns out Scully is leaving, and has agreed a £140,000 move to Barnsley. It’s a shame to see such a talented player go, but he obviously isn’t in the managers plans and if the money means we don’t have to sell one of our key men that’s a good thing in my book.

Hull are very much a team in fat Jan’s image (not literally of course. From what I can make out none of them are have beer bellies or dodgy Danish/scouse accents), passing the ball around neatly, and they nearly shock us inside three minutes. A great one-two on the left flank leaves Dean Keates in space 20 yards from goal, and he hits a shot which rattles the cross bar with Marshall well beaten.

We gradually get a foothold in the match, and Youngs should have done better with two good chances before Guttridge finishes off a fine run with a rising shot into the top left hand corner. But just as it looks like we’ll take a lead into half time, a slip from Angus allows Jevons in, and his cross is turned in by Dudfield for the equaliser.

In Dudfield, Jevons, and Northern Ireland international Stuart Elliott, Hull have assembled a potent front line, but ours is looking just as good, despite costing a fraction of the price. On 60 minutes Kitson replaces Youngs, and he and Tudor join Riza up front as we switch to a basic 4-3-3. This throws Hull briefly, and Kitson looks to have put us in front, only to be denied by a late flag. Back come the Tigers, and this time the assistant referee comes to our rescue, disallowing Whittle’s header for pushing. This jerks the previously quiet Hull fans into life, and they roar their boys forward. And for once the Newmarket Road End responds. Over the last couple of seasons the atmosphere at the Abbey has been getting worse and worse. But today they seem to have found an extra few decibels, and the team respond by stepping up a gear.

Riza’s volley is pushed out by the keeper. Rodger hits the bar with a free kick and then with two minutes remaining sees a goalbound effort blocked by Musslewhite at the expense of a corner. By now even the Habbin is rocking, and Hull and hanging on by their finger nails. Rodger sprints across to take the flag kick, and in a well worn routine, aims it towards Wanless at the far post. Wanny wins the header, diverting it back into the goal mouth to Riza, who must score……….but no, Musslewhite makes a wonderful point blank save, but can’t hold onto the ball.

In one of those almost slow motion moments, the ball spins and bobbles away from the goal. Luckily a yellow shirt, in the form of Tudor, gets there first and thumps the ball into the empty net. YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!! Everyone’s jumping up and down. I’m hugging Mick and, rather worryingly, fat ginger bloke. Days like this make all last seasons struggles worth while.

retired_spoonlawlor

What an excellent read! I could say it's the best story I've ever read in here - and easily pass the lie detector test.

I'm playing a Kidderminster game at the moment and certainly will enjoy it even more with the detail I'm getting through this story.

No train station in Irtlingborough. Road signs in Welsh in Wrexham. An annoying fat ginger bloke in the Habbin at Abbey stadium. Brilliant!

retired_carlos.jango71

Thanks TW

Southend (Home)

I’m going to jinx us, I just know it. Micks looking after his baby girl today, and his girlfriend feels little Sarah won’t appreciate football at the age of 14 months, so he’s stuck at home. With his season ticket going spare, my dad is accompanying me to today’s match. And he is the reason I’m so worried.

My Dad is a harbinger of doom wherever Cambridge United are involved. The only game he saw us play last season (barring the home and away QPR games) was the LDV final, which we lost 4-1. For the two Rangers games, he supported his boyhood heroes and we somehow managed to take four points off the promotion contenders. He was a regular supporter throughout the dire mid-90’s, and when he finally stopped attending, in 98/99, we got promoted. He is, in short, a jinx, which is just what we don’t need when we’re playing the team immediately below us.

To be fair on my Dad, he did sit through the aforementioned crap years when I was too young to go on my own. And he did so without moaning too much. I expect with hindsight he wishes he’d made good on his promise to take me to a Premier League game every month or so rather than going up United every week (I was at a young impressionable age, and Cambridge had Ollie Morah in their team, who wouldn’t be tempted). I once won a season ticket off him when he bet me that Steve Butler would not score a hatrick before the end of the season. It looked a safe bet for him at the time seeing as the player had only managed seven goals in the first half of the season. Butler then went on to hit 17 goals in the last 11 games, including two hatricks and a club record five goals against Exeter. I only got one season ticket.

Anyway I go over to Mum and Dad’s for a bit of lunch, and then we observe our usual pre-match ritual of a quick drink in the Green Dragon. The Green Dragon is definitely one of the nicest pubs in Cambridge. Just off Chesterton High Street, it sits beside the river, and inside is everything a cosy local pub should be. There are plenty of older football fans in there (even my dad looks young) and its a nice atmosphere for us to drink our pints in.

The match itself should be a cracker. Southend are third, and like ourselves are better at attacking than defending. Inside the ground my dad is greeted like a returning hero by the old guard (mainly relations of fat ginger bloke). Dad likes football played properly (as a Rangers fan, he was brought up on a diet of Bowles, Marsh et al) and applauds the ninth minute move which leads to Southend’s goal. 15-year old midfielder David Bryan, who looks a real prospect, plays a great pass wide to Danny Maye, a winger almost as quick as Tudor. He cuts inside Roberts and chips in a cross that eludes Angus, leaving Graeme Jones with a simple header past Marshall.

And er, that’s it. Nothing else of note really happens in the first half, with the match getting bogged down in midfield, with neither side really getting hold of the game. It improves a lot in the second half. Flahaven has to make a great double save in the first minute of the second period to deny Riza and Guttridge, while Dancing Shaun foils Maye with a brave block. Kitson’s on in place of Youngs again, but it’s Tudor who next tests Flahaven with a 30-yard blaster that the keeper turns over the bar. Our 69th minute equaliser is just reward for a sustained period of pressure, and comes from Li’l Luke, who hits a daisy cutter in from the edge of the box after Southend fail to deal effectively with one of Rodger’s wicked corners.

Our attacking play is now reminiscent of the Hull game, as the visitors are forced deeper and deeper. A great long pass from Angus releases Riza, who beats his marker with sheer pace, and finds himself in on goal. But as ever Omer tries to be too precise, and Flahaven nicks the ball off his toe as he attempts to round the Shrimpers stopper. On the balance of play in the second half a home win would not have been undeserved, but Southend look a good side, and we can’t be too disappointed with a point.

And Dad enjoyed himself. I’d given the boys a big build up before the match, so it was lucky they performed in the second half else he would have accused me of having rose tinted glasses, as usual. At least we didn’t lose.

Mike..

You know, whilst we are always looking out for success for our fellow CM Managers, it's not often that a tale is so beautifully woven that you can happily read it without even taking in the result.

Truly a unique and praise-worthy effort LP

retired_carlos.jango71

Cheers Flip

Exeter (Away)

There are some places that, for some inexplicable reason, you just like to visit. Exeter is one of those for me. It might be something to do with the fact that we always beat them, or that it’s a piece of pÃ*ss to get to on the train despite the distance, or it might just be that it’s a nice town. But for whatever reason, I always look forward to going to the real St. James’ Park.

Tommy, Will and Mick are all in attendance today, so we get the 9.45 to Kings Cross, then the 11.01 out of Paddington down to Devon. Tommy’s already on the lager, so he’s in a good mood, while Will is still in mourning about Chelsea’s poor start to the season, which sees them languishing in the bottom half of the table. At least one of his teams are still unbeaten. We are now an impressive ten league games without defeat, and although Fallon has stated in the paper this week he doesn’t want talk of promotion at such an early stage, the signs are promising. Southend are the only side we’ve played this season who have competed with us in footballing terms, and while Swansea are looking unbeatable at the moment, we must be in with a chance.

But we will have to beat teams like Exeter who, as ever, are lying in the bottom three of the league. We arrive at St. Davids station ahead of schedule (must be a first for an English railway company) and head for the ground, or more specifically the pub near the ground we found last time we were here. The staff in the Clarendon Arms are very hospitable towards away fans, and with beer at £1.75 a pint you can’t complain.

St. James’ Park has changed a fair bit since our last visit. The cow shed, with it’s quaint little grass bank, has gone. Its replacement is a new stand, complete with seats and the obligatory conference boxes. The home terrace, known as the big bank, has also been given a roof, and as a result looks a bit less big. The away end is unchanged, maintaining the grounds homely feel. This doesn’t extend to the toilets, which are awful (not as bad as Darlington, which we’ll come to later in the season, but still terrible). We always do well at Exeter. In fact I’ve never seen us lose here. The highlights being the 5-0 win I previously mentioned, when Steve Butler hit all five, and the 3-0 win last time we got promoted. That day we had four regulars out through injury and suspension, but we still won a canter thanks to a screamer from David Preece after about 40 seconds (possibly his only goal since the second world war), Shaggy Taylor and Martin Butler. That was the day it really dawned that we had a side capable of going up.

Anyway, the script is spoiled slightly by Exeter going in front early on. Despite the Grecians precarious position, striker Paul Harries has been in hot form with four goals in his last four games. And he makes it five in five when he nips in ahead of Duncan to convert Goff’s cross. Luckily we’re behind for only four minutes, as Exeters usually reliable keeper Kevin Miller makes an error, scuffing a clearance straight to Kitson, who keeps his cool and slots the ball straight back past the embarrassed stopper.

Exeter look neat and tidy on the ball, but their final pass is their undoing, with their attacks often breaking down 30 yards or so from our goal. All in all our defence is coping well, and going forward our left-sided combination of Roberts and Youngs is causing them all kinds of problems. And these two create our second goal, when Youngs holds the ball up on the left before feeding the overlapping Roberts. The left back nicks the ball past Bowman, and arcs in a great cross to Kitson, who makes no mistake from six yards. The ginger ninja seems to be finding some of his best form now, and it’s a shame we can’t find a formation that would accommodate him Tudor Youngs AND Riza. That would be awesome.

We’ve got them on the back foot now, but as always we sit back and invite the opposition onto us. This is the one big complaint I’ve got about the season so far. We’re such a good side going forward, but defensively we are prone to mistakes so defending deep is asking for trouble. As it is it’s a great goal that levels matters. Walker swings in a laser-guided cross and Harries pulls of his marker to swivel and volley past Marshall from the edge of the area. But just as it looks like we’ll be all square at the break, a great surge down the left by Rodger sees him get behind the defence, and his cross is headed in by the in-rushing Guttridge. A Guttridge header! Something I thought I’d never see. This is a funny season.

Unfortunately this ensures we’ll have a second half of biting our nails, but before that Exeter wheel out possibly the best half time distraction ever. She goes by the name of Anthea, she's a Greek goddess and she’s gorgeous. She wanders round the pitch in her tiny little dress (She must be really cold because just before half time it started raining) with about 2000 pairs of eyes following her every move. Much better than Marvin the Moose if you ask me.

Exeter have replaced useless pensioner Don Goodman with youngster Reinier Moor at half time, and suddenly they look much more dangerous. This is helped in no small part by our defensive tactics. Cleveland Taylor sets up a good chance for Moor, who shoots just wide, while Roscoe misses the target from a good position and Marshall pulls off a good save to deny Harries a hatrick. But then it’s as if we step up a gear. Fallon and Brooks are urging the boys forward, and now we look the more likely scorers. Duncan and Tudor both hit the bar, while Kitson sees the chance of a hatrick cleared off the line by a defender. By the end we’re fairly comfortable, as Kitson and Youngs take turns at running the ball into the corner. This is how we should defend a lead. I don’t think there are going to be many teams who can cope with us going forward.

St. James’ Park has its own little railway station, so we get on a waiting train which takes us back to the main station. This also allows me to fulfil one of my ambitions. As we’re waiting on the train a gaggle of Exeter fans walk past and, spotting Wills United scarf, start making wánker signs. I turn round with a huge smug grin on my face, and stick up three fingers on one hand and two on the other. Childish yet satisfying, I love coming to Exeter.

retired_brittni10

<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Lionel Perez:
Unfortunately this ensures we’ll have a second half of biting our nails, but before that Exeter wheel out possibly the best half time distraction ever. She goes by the name of Anthea, she's a Greek goddess and she’s gorgeous. She wanders round the pitch in her tiny little dress (She must be really cold because just before half time it started raining) with about 2000 pairs of eyes following her every move. Much better than Marvin the Moose if you ask me.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Me and my mates got our photos taken with her when Forest Green played them in the FA Cup, it was cold night to

retired_carlos.jango71

Bristol Rovers (Away)

Well it’s sods law isn’t it. I knew I was in trouble on Thursday when the cold like symptoms I’ve been having for a few days began to worsen, and by yesterday it was fully blown flu. Despite my attempts to do some work, by lunchtime I was in bed asleep and after I woke in the evening the doctor came round to confirm that I wasn’t going to Bristol, or anywhere, for the next few days. The lovely Louise has brought me newspapers and magazines to keep my mind occupied, but it’s little consolation for the fact that everyone’s in Bristol having a good time without me.

There are some advantages I suppose. I get to watch Football Focus and On the Ball, and my bed is a lot warmer than that horrible terrace in Bristol. The view at the Memorial Stadium is crap anyway, in the corner at the side of the pitch. I’m the lucky one being able to listen to the game in the comfort of my own home.

But who am I trying to kid. I find listening to United games on the radio practically unbearable. Every time the ball is in our half I get nervous. I usually spend the whole 90 minutes pacing round my room because I’m so wound up. Anyway that’s not really an option today because I still feel like shÃ*t.

Listening to games on Radio Cambridgeshire had improved since ‘commentator’ Steve Pears left. Steve filled time during commentaries by talking to his summariser, giving his opinions and hinting at behind the scenes stuff that he alone was privy to. Unfortunately this in turn meant a lot of the time you didn’t actually know what was happening in the game. Several times in a match Steve would be in the middle of an interesting (sic) conversation only to suddenly pipe up with "ball into the area and ooooohhhh, it’s er 1-0, that was terrible defending, and er, um, united are behind."

Anyway Pears has gone, and we now have John Martin, former editor of the fanzine. While he struggles to remain unbiased (not that I would want him to be) he at least tells you what’s going on in the match. Today’s co-commentator is Adam Tann, one of our promising crop of youngsters who has just returned from injury and can count himself unlucky not to at least be on the bench.

Rovers, despite being one of my pre-season promotion tips, have made a mediocre start and are lying in mid-table. When the teams are read out I note with disappointment that Guilliano Grazioli is playing. Not only am I missing my first match of the season, but I’m missing the chance to abuse that ex-**** wánker. What a terrible day.

There isn’t much noise from the home crowd in the opening 15 minutes, as United appear to be dominating. Kitson and Youngs have shots on goal, and I learn that Tann’s groin injury has cleared up at last and that he’s playing a reserve game next week. We go 1-0 up in the 25th minute: "Here’s Kitson powering forward. He passes to Youngs, Youngs lays it off and here’s a shot and A GOAL, UNITED 1-0 UP AND IT’S SHANE TUDOR."
Text message number one of the afternoon arrives, from Tommy: FÚCKING YES, GET IN THERE YOU LITTLE BEAUTY!! HOWS THE FLU?

Kitson hits the bar shortly after the goal, just before the decisive incident of the game: "Oh and that’s surely a kick by Grazioli and yes, he’s been sent off. Grazioli has been sent off for a blatant kick at Stev Angus." Great, just make me more jealous why don’t you. 1-0 at half time and it sounds like we’re in command. Plus the filth are 1-0 down at home and have had their inbred keeper Tyler sent off, so that makes me feel a bit better.

There are chances galore in the opening minutes of the second period, and judging by the clapping of the home faithful their keeper is playing a blinder. That is until the 58th minute: "Here’s Simon Rodger on the ball, he’s got Roberts out on the left and finds him now, Roberts gets the cross in and here’s KITSON, WHO MAKES IT TWO, DAVE KITSON DOUBLES UNITED’S LEAD."

Another message from Tom: GRAZIOLI, WHAT A W�NKER, WHAT A W�NKER. ANOTHER EASY WIN HERE 4 THE TAKING.

Martin informs me and the other listeners that we’ve amassed a hefty ten shots on target, and with our 12th we sew up the match: "Rodger’s going to swing this one in, AND IT’S HEADED IN, WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT’S STEV ANGUS, HIS FIRST FOR THE CLUB." Now this is just too much. Stev hasn’t even come close to scoring in his first 50 or so games for us, but breaks his duck when I’m not there. This time the message is from Will: HAHA, STEV’S NO JUDAS JERRY. BET YOU’RE GUTTED TO HAVE MISSED THIS ONE EH. GET WELL SOON ;-)

Bástards. The judas Jerry comment is in reference to our former defender Marc Joseph, who left to join Peterborough on a bosman after 250 odd games for us without scoring. Of course he promptly scored twice in about his first ten games for them, the money grabbing sod.

At least we’ve won in style again, and Swansea have only managed a draw so we’re level on points. If we can win on Tuesday night everything will be equal for the top of the table clash next Saturday. Things are looking up, if I can just shake off this bloody flu.