I suppose it was inevitable that the run was going to come to an end at some stage, but yet again we failed on the big stage. I had looked forward to this game for quite some time, as I genuinely believed we could do something here, as did most neutral observers. The manner of the defeat, however, was surprising, after a reasonable start to the match. In particular, the pressing game that is the mainstay of our most impressive results against good teams completely deserted us. Moore I hassled as always from the front, but that was often the only challenge to the ball on its way up the feed chain to the Wanchope / Goater combine harvester. Could the Claret Premiership dream be the biggest piece of fiction since the inclusion of the fidelity vows in the French marriage ceremony? Hmmmm.
Anyway, a nice sunny day at Moss Side's finest stadium. A midday kick-off, but a generous helping of ale to ward off the vision of the City Orcs a mere three feet of netting away. Fairly liberal interpretation of opening time around these parts, or maybe they hadn't actually closed from Friday evening. The stands here are of course hideous, designed by the same firm that did Stonehenge, and will hopefully disappear soon. A couple of thousand Clarets in evidence to boot giving the 'arrogant prats' some serious oral abuse before the start of 'our cup final'.
The Clarets lined up something akin to 4-4-2, but with Little being given a free role as seems to be the norm at present, of which more later. A chance also for the two City old boys to show KK's expensive show-boaters what they were missing. Again, more on this later. City, apart from their two very good strikers, were playing Berkovic, Benarbia and Horlock in midfield, all of whom are capable of providing plenty of attacking ammunition, which made our line-up even more curious. It was, however, the same City side that drew 0-0 with West Brom here. City also, of course, include some seriously large, ugly donkeys in their defence, including Lee 'tent peg' Howey's younger brother. Would have thought there was some hope for us there I think.
The first twenty minutes provided some fairly slick, attacking football, almost all of which was from the Clarets. One small problem though: we were one down after two minutes, when Wanchope's side foot finish (unmarked) completed a sweeping move down West's flank, bypassing the non existent Claret cover. A sign of things to come.
During this period, Taylor missed an absolute sitter from zip yards one on one with Nash. Feet rather than head, enough said. Ball had a shot headed off the line from Horlock, and we were given a 50/50 penalty following Wiekens' challenge on A Moore. Have seen plenty of these not given. Wiekens was doing an excellent impression of a man with no talent at this time, and was replaced by the man who used to break wind for Everton, the over large Richard Dunne. I am sure that there was a partial eclipse of the sun as he rolled onto the pitch. Little's sloppy, one step, Di Canio, special was easily saved by Carlo 'Clitheroe Reject' Nash in the City goal. Just as important in my view however was the two-footed jump by Mettomo on Dean West, which the referee gave as an instant yellow card. In most soccer rule books that I am aware of, that is a straight red.
The half then began to run away from the good guys, as the passing in midfield (Little and Grant in particular) became very sloppy. City turned this quickly to their advantage with some quick incisive play on 27 minutes, following a pass by Grant to his ex colleague Goater. The Goat fed Benarbia, whose through ball gave the unmarked Wanchope a simple second.
It was no great surprise when the third came on 37 minutes, via Tiatto's cross to Wanchope, who chested down to Goater in acres, nay a small third world country, of Claret free space. Berkovic hammered home the subsequent crisp twenty-yard volley. As the spectre of the Three Goal Rule beckoned, Wanchope hammered home number four after another Grant cock-up and a spectacular thirty-yard Berkovic through ball.
Half time to pies with the texture of cats' vomit. Game over.
I have read other reports of the game that suggest we won the second half of this match. Whooppee do if true. City squandered a number of chances in the second half before Huckerby galloped away in the last few minutes to (second half only) equalise I Moore's 61st minute consolation strike.
So then, huge disappointment again after a Man City match. A certain amount of gallows humour afterwards in the local hostelry decreed that a slight variation on the normal method of choosing the London Claret's Man of the Match was required, primarily to cheer us all up, and also of course to pad out this short, hugely unsatisfying match report. So here it is then, with the aid of Firmo's mobile, the 'Worst Man of the Match' voting. Usual scoring system to apply, two points for the winner and one for the second from a statistically significant London Clarets population base.
1st worst - Glen Little - More holes in his game today than a statement from a Transport Secretary.
2nd worst - Gareth Taylor - Did the work of two men today, Laurel and Hardy.
3rd worst - Alan Moore - A good player, but with more achilles heels today than the average biped.
4th worst - Kevin Ball - Raced hard for the ball, but time's iron grip had a firm hold on his shirt.
5th worst - Tony Grant - There are amoebae on Saturn which display better ball control than he did today.
6th worst - Dean West - Everything went over his head today, so should look for future employment as a limbo dancer.
Bit harsh really, I suppose, but interestingly only one of the back five in the voting after a 5-1 defeat, which tells you something. Taylor simply had a mare. He really doesn't look the part where there are big uncompromising defenders. Basically, he is a bit of a wimp. Expected more from him against his old club, and with Kuqi on the horizon. Little was all over the place, at times collecting the ball from NTG in his own penalty area, just where you don't want him.
My other overall view from the match is how poor our set pieces are now without Cook to take them and Davis to score from them, not to mention of course Payton's penalties. Over to you Uncle Stan.
Finally, couldn't possibly finish the piece without a comment on good old Kevin Keegan, who was taking some serious stick from the City fans in the pub before the game. As the psychiatrist once said of Basil in one of the later episodes of Fawlty Towers, there is more than enough material there for a dissertation.
Scorers: I Moore (61) / Wanchope (2,28,45), Berkovic (38), Huckerby (90).
Referee: M D Messias of York.
Crowd: 34,250.
Hego's Worst Man of the Match: Tony Grant.
A game of one half