These are the types of games that we have been wanting to have week in week out for many a year, but after tuesdays debacle we may want to think again, hone our skills and save our fight against the big boys for another season. It wasn't just the performance on the pitch that left a bitter taste but the whole experience of the game, the ills of modern football personified in a soulless big red hell hole.
The away fans were shoehorned into a tiny section of a 30,000 seater stadium that was only two thirds full by kick off. While this tight squeeze did some wonders for the atmosphere, the back seven rows were in fine voice for most of the night, the overzealous stewarding was some of the most bizarre and heavy handed i have ever seen. While Town were failing to hold it on the pitch, the stewards marched up to the top of the stand, intent in killing what was a fairly good away atmosphere. Around 50 to 70 fans were stood singing while a group of four orange drones perched on the steps awaiting the command to pounce on the unruly of west yorkshire. All this from the command of their grand high master, who was only distinguishable by one of those fucking jobs-worth headsets that can only be issued when you graduate from the university of self satisfaction. twat doesn't even do him justice.
So After a few words and the reading of the riot act people started being thrown out for no apparent reason and more worryingly attacked by the growing number of orange drones that were inflaming a situation that had appeared from no where. As the battle of algiers continued on the terrace Lee Clark and his merry men had waved the white flag big time, capitulation and it only took ten minutes. All the battling qualities seen in the past 3 away wins had evaporated and left a slimy residue resembling some kind of town performance.
The Stewards were still piling in, both team and fans were taking a battering as another of footballs modern ills made itself known. After seeing Ricky Lambert destroy defenses from all leagues with headers the last thing you wanted your fucking left back to do was to step back and let the easiest cross to enter the box, putting it on a plate from the top scorer in the league indulge in another goal. Then the money grabbing git rounded the goal and decided to celebrate in the tiny section that housed the battered and the bruised of Huddersfield. Lambert decided to kiss his badge, put a finger to his lips and point to his name. This well rehearsed routine wound me right up, maybe it was a backhanded compliment because he really did want to join us in the summer if only his greedy nature had not got the better of him.
Then it got better as the second top striker Lee Barnard decided to get in on the act and score. How does a club get deducted ten points for going into admin only to spend three million on three players, two of them being the best strikers in the league.
The rest was an embarrassing blur as town lacked any passion, pride or a plan B. I left the ground angry but the worst was the sickening feeling of de ja vu that had appeared. Town play well all season and the expectation level rises accordingly only for it to come to a premature end time and time again. There is always next week though and however negative this blog gets, Hoyle and Clark are taking us in the right direction.
I Fucking hate modern football though...
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