Bodger is the self-deprecating name of
Wycombe’s mascot. But Bodger knows a thing or two. For instance, he knows who are his
bodging betters. He bears no bitterness about this. In fact, he even cheerily welcomed
Stan and his team. What really foxed bodger was who outnellied who on the day. The choice
was overwhelming. That was even after his lot was declared out of bounds. And he
didn’t want to let anyone down. He really didn’t. He knew just how far Stan and
his boys had come. A long journey in search of nelliedom deserves some recognition. So,
who were his nominations?
Well, first there was Nelly Johnrose. He spent
twenty minutes either doing nothing or getting in the way. Sensing that his pay might be
performance–related, he created a niche no-go area in the heart of the war zone, i.e.
a little spot on the left touchline, just inside Wycombe’s half. Nelly decreed that
this was not the place for Wycombe to dally and fanny. So, a two-footed tackle, at
somewhere near ankle height, quickly found its mark. Exit Nelly with less than a half an
hour gone. Excellent value at £200,000 plus. I wanted to shout ‘cheat’ too, but
not at the referee or mugged Wycombe defender.
Then there was Nelly Pickering. If he
wasn’t fumbling, he was surely tumbling. OK, his dismissal was probably harsh, but
that was probably the nearest he’d got to holding any of the opposition. And Chris
Vinnicombe made him look a right pillock. Now, much as I appreciated the earlier model, my
last recollection of Chris Vinnicombe as wing back didn’t prompt immediate
comparisons with Roberto Carlos. But nowhere bestows nelliedom like Burnley. It must have
been hard for Chris, renouncing his nelly tendencies, but as early as the fifth minute, he
brushed Pickering aside to blast just wide of Crichton’s left post. And the
embarrassment just rolled on and on. It was difficult to determine who was the more inept
when Payton and Pickering moved in on Wycombe’s left flank man with fifty minutes
gone. The Blues’ man couldn’t decide either. He contented himself by driving the
ball at both of them. Fortunately, it ricocheted into the path of Michael Simpson, who
buried it before Crichton could move.
Then there was Nelly Morgan. Today he was
sporting his Bournemouth ensemble. Having found competence too scary, he’s become a
born again Nelly. Let me tell you this, a born again Nelly is a Nelly transfigured,
immediately trebling the output. Wycombe didn’t need to feed Simpson down the right.
Morgan simply stuffed this insect with all the goodies he could indecently gorge.
There is a theory that nothing exists outside
you. I gather it’s called solipsism. Both Crichton and Morgan were obviously trying
it out for size today.
"You’re not really there, so you
can’t take this ball off me."
Now, you just know this theory is in serious
shit when the ball disappears from them at the feet of a blue apparition. Perhaps we
should start chanting ‘Stan Ternent’s Solipsist Army’, but I guess
that’s far too paradoxical for a Saturday afternoon.
Bodger’s fourth nomination, then, has to be
the admirable Crichton. Yes, he earned that when he failed to reach a Kavanagh Cross,
allowing Keith Scott to head in Wycombe’s second, almost immediately after Simpson
scored their first. But Crichton did lose his footing as he went for that fatal cross.
That split second delay was crucial. And despite his Marlonesque kicking, he did make a
splendid save from a Lawrence piledriver and then dived bravely at the feet of substitute
Jermaine McSporran (can you believe that name?). So, I think a half Nelly only for Paul.
As for the rest, there’s not much to say.
Cooke looked out of sorts and ineffectual. Payton had hardly anything to work with.
Branch’s corners were crap and he wasted our best chance shooting straight at Taylor
when through on goal. Davis looked more fallible than usual, too, as nelliedom took hold.
After Cooke’s substitution and Swan’s awful injury, he played up front for the
last twenty minutes, without conspicuous success.
Once Pickering had been dismissed, this left a
back three of Reid, Brass and Heywood. For all their hard work, a better team would have
run riot. But we should acknowledge Brass’s efforts. For after a shaky start, he
became our best player. His frantic covering duties must have made him feel at home.
December once more. He will have good reason to feel pissed off if he doesn’t keep
his place next week.
Poor Swanny suffered a nasty injury shortly
after coming on. That’s probably kissed goodbye to his season.
So, what does Stan do now? Try cloning Bury in
total? The full back positions need urgent attention, although Moore made such a good fist
of things at Millwall. God knows, they need a fit Little back, but I wish he’d give
Maylett more of a run if Little’s return is delayed. Again, he impressed today in a
lost cause. I know you have to nurture these precocious talents, but I think Stan is
holding Maylett back. Especially when you survey the alternatives. We desperately need
some points otherwise Stan will achieve what Chris Waddle failed to do; taking us out of
the Division in his first season.
