The following match reports have been written by one of our season ticket holders in the style of a football fan who watches the team week in and week out.
Season 2005/06
Click on a game to read the report.
Sheffield Wednesday (Home)
Ipswich (Away)
Hull City (Home)
Queens Park Rangers (Away)
Millwall (Home)
Reading (Away)
Crystal Palace (Home)
Luton (Away)
Burnley (Home)
Watford (Away)
Plymouth (Home)
Norwich (Away)
Leeds (Home)
Southampton (Away)
Burnley (Home - FA Cup)
Millwall (Away)
Sheffield Wednesday (Home)
And so it came to pass.
Hands shook, wallets wrung, a new regime in the Board Room. Twenty five million reasons we should be happy. Less Three.Applause as the six is introduced to the crowd pre-match.
Fireworks, green and red rockets, as the players run out.
The prelude to a damp squib of a match.
Deon Burton with hair, Darren Moore without, they meet on the touchline. Phil Dowd in green gifts a free kick. Six yards from the corner flag, on the bye line, in front of the East Stand, Jon Paul McGovern takes. It's low into the centre of the box, Marcus Tudgay unmarked, turns home. Four minutes on the clock, five by the time of the restart and Derby trail.
We play football on the deck. Possession counts for little. Peschisolido clean through finds Carson equal to the task. A chance wasted by Peugeot 407 diesel type acceleration (non turbo).
Wednesday concede free kicks around the box. Frequently. Idiakez with a calf pull absent, Bisgaard curls the ball round the wall and Carson saves well at the expense of a corner.
Barnes, the creative middle, fouls, the ball breaks and two footed he wins the ball. Dowd, perhaps working cumulatively as well as quickly issues a yellow. Thoughtless cardplay by the official in an end of season stroll.
Peschisolido crunched in the penalty area. A stretcher called for. Behind the goal strains of "Die you *******, Die" are plainly heard. Sheffield a steel city corroding away under the acid from their own bile.
A party atmosphere, you decide.
Second half, no Peschisolido, Holmes in his place, Bisgaard and Smith up front. Plenty of clever play little penetration.
Seth Johnson with a corner, Nyatanga near post pushed, nothing given. Treatment required.
The Owls continued their shut out at all costs. Diallo and Spur joining Mcallister, who goes down faster than a granny paid by Rooney, in the book.
Smith in the centre misses the best chance of the match for the Rams, being unable to get a foot on Edworthy's pass despite time and space.
Then none of it matters. Best comes on for McGovern and wrestles with Nyatanaga, wins the ball gets a deflection off the defender and Camp can only watch the ball billow the net.
Wednesday gloat and gloat and gloat. Each "Aye" increasing with volume with every successful pass completed.
Eventually the season ends. A two nil defeat. Camp exchanges shirts with Carson. The stadium empties.
Then, strangely and perhaps fittingly, a limp lap of the park is completed to the lowest ever attendance still within any ground at the final stage of the season.
"Who Are You" sang the hundred or so Owls.
It couldn't be worse.
It was as we filed out.
Fans in the know maintain McCarthy our next manager.
If that is right we must have broke a mirror somewhere along the way!
Finally words for those still here.Thanks. The End.
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Ipswich (Away)
Sitting here typing this match report watching our kids play on the hallowed Pride Park pitch as close to our spiritual home of the Baseball Ground as possible these days, it's easy to forget that despite all the off the field problems there is a lot of good within DCFC.Yesterday needed to be treated as a day out. We did. Sunshine, Bury St Edmunds possibly the best Market Town in England, (I'm open to argument here) and a lush green Portman Road.
Add the pleasure of seeing Miles Addison continue his progress at centre back, something you miss with no reserve team and the fact the game is meaningless means nothing.
We lost, yes but with no strikers to expect better than a goalless draw is churlish.
Bisgaard pushed into attack had his best game of the season even if not 100% effective. McIndoe also did better in a more open role, all he needs now is to remember how to beat a man. As does Holmes who replaces him later.
Camp had no chance with either goal, the first a rocket into the top right hand corner by Forster as defenders stood off; the second a wicked curling volley from Currie that looked to have taken a deflection.The travelling fans in good voice out singing the quiet Tractor Boys who seemed to be subdued from the minutes silence for John Lyall.
Police with a sense of humour sending a steward to fetch a Cornish pasty from the home end after the away ran out of hot food.
When the result doesn't matter then it maybe it matters you enjoy yourselves.
A good day out in retrospect, like today, Simon's just scored running through from twenty five yards, his team winning 2-0.
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DERBY COUNTY vs Hull City
A pointless game, in which we deserve no points.
Changes necessary, we re-arrange.
Addison, Miles, partners Nyatanga, the difference unclear, both excel.
Johnson, Michael and Edworthy full backs in title not necessarily deed.
Midfield we are crab and lobsters without claws. Thirlwell a poor Ray Wilkins, Idiakez ineffective in front of the back four, Bisgaard a footballing brain running on half charged batteries.
Up front, Holmes seeing plenty of the ball, a gold star for effort, a cross for presentation. Smith lively not dangerous, let alone deadly and Peschisolido...
Possession counts in law, in football...
Hull score. Johnson and Idiakez go for the same ball on the edge of the box. Between them they manage five yards. They reach Stuart Green. Twenty five yards out a perfect volley is despatched into a white net. Green earns applause. Deservedly so. A goal worthy of a cup final.
Fifteen minutes later the half ends, we are still to register a serious shot on target.
Second half we continue. Idiakez takes two free kicks in almost identical positions. The first sails over, the second low, is tame into Myhill's arms.
Jackson replaces Johnson, urgency begins.
Bolder and Barnes warm up and in doing so inspire the White Shirts on the park into their best spell.Spell over they join the fray, Thirlwell and Holmes depart.
Bolder adds more urgency, better distribution, gumption and a tackle. Midfield, tackle, hmm.
Hull more direct till now are finally matched.
Idiakez loses the ball, he tries to reclaim it unsuccessfully and then he punches Fagan's knee. A melee. D'Urso speaks to all, crosses his hands and awards Hull the free kick outside Derby's box. Justice done in politically correct style. Leniency in place of caution.
Bisgaard chests the ball off the line, earning this week wages.
A high floated ball into the Hull box, all together, Idiakez pushes Wiseman, Wiseman pushes Peschisoldio, D'Urso points to the spot.
Smith and D'Urso dance the ball round the spot. Ages later Myhill dives the wrong way and the Rams are level.
It's the Rams first serious shot on target.
Three minutes of injury time added , played and then the teams share the points.
It's harsh on Hull. Or it would be, had it mattered.
Two more meaningless games to go.
One question remains.
If we go into Admin before the 30th April, our last game, do we lose ten points this season or next?
Meaningless match? On reflection maybe not.
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Queens Park Rangers vs DERBY COUNTY
QPR condensed. Safety without deduction.
Expanded. Queens Park Rangers, a blue fading shoe box stadia with little style. The ground and game go hand in hand. Hasty marriages from Panama or other exotic shores repenting in lacklustre leisure.
It's pretty poor stuff even by Gerald Ratner standards.
To this add a referee who doesn't know a hustle from a shove and would similarly struggle to tell the difference between a dig in the back and an excavation by Time Team. Have you got the picture yet?
Observations in no particular order, as order would suggest a plan.
Time after time Moore is fouled by Nygaard, the free kicks, when given, go the home way. Eventually Moore takes the ball then the player according to the lino and wins a yellow card for his troubles.
Earlier troubles stop the flow of Heineken, the fringe element on tour blamed as bars closed inside at two thirty.
Blaming nobody but Danny Shittu, a centre half of Moore-esk statue runs the entire length of the pitch (almost) to fire a thunderbolt at Camp. Soft underbelly understates it all.
Evatt, third fiddle to Shittu goes for a blood shirt, it's numberless or nondescript if you like. He fits it perfectly.
Cook dives over McIndoe's imaginary tackle, Mr Kettle is not taken in enough to blow his whistle.
Players slip and slide on a greasy pitch, watched by Jeremy Keith and family in the Directors Box. Tommy Smith sees keeper Paul Jones go down in front of him and takes pity by firing wide.
Comparing Keith to Forest fans stand in the time honoured way. It's almost as much entertainment as the match.Entertainment without food (they sold out), football without ball boys, are the goalposts really necessary, wouldn't jumpers do? Cost saving craziness.
The fans rhyme "Keith" with "Thief".
The Hoops score. Nygaard with a header on the back of Michael Johnson for a change.
Idiakez replaces Bolder, Peschisolido Barnes and McIndoe winger par nonchalance gives way to winger par nuisance Holmes.
Nuisance turns to nonsense when Holmes, after good work to get to the byeline, spots Lisbie open and clear in the box only to proceed to pass the ball five yards behind.
Smith with no help from anybody cuts inside and scores.
Bailey catches Jackson. Late. The non-fuss full back gets up straight away, it speaks volumes and a yellow card rather than red is issued.
Idiakez fated, floats around without effect, whilst fans favourite Peschisioldo deceives to flatter.
Moore wining the ball isn't enough. Kettle shows a red and a giant walks. In the stands QPR fans shrug their shoulders.Seth Johnson plays left back akin to the Sex Pistols playing Sinatra.
Finally it's over. Barring deduction.
Now wasn't the condensed version better?
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DERBY COUNTY vs Millwall
Millwall, a mixed up, jumbled up, shook up match except for the three points, which are everything.
Two yellow coaches, "Kings Ferry" in budgerigar green on the sides, define the size of the travelling support. Inside it's confirmed, a few hundred rattle around in a cage for thousands, outsinging their counterparts.
We are Derby but we are subdued. Edworthy as right full back, Seth Johnson in midfield and Lisbie and El Hamdaoui upfront an attacking team on paper.
In the East Stand Upper, rain reaches where it shouldn't get as dark grey skies deposit their load, to the left and right blue skies make it personal.
As it is it's Millwall who catch the eye. Jody Morris all mouth and short trousers, a younger Dennis wise controlling the midfield and referee.
Lisbie clean though, Mounir free in the centre, a sliding tackle par excellence from Phillips, a corner.Barnes and Morris tussle for the ball, not for the first time, just inside the Millwall half. Morris the ball, both players fall together, Barnes on top. A boot in the face his pain, a stretcher Jody's.
Jamie Vincent runs on to boos to play left side of midfield.
Tommy Smith on the Derby left comes inside, level with the penalty area he pulls the trigger, the ball shoots into the far corner, the keeper no chance.
Millwall without Morris, tamed as the clouds toughen up, round white hail stones bouncing off a green pitch.
Derby are denied a second, Mounir, shot blocked and Smith looking certain to score at the back post was shut out by the quick reactions of keeper Doyle on the line.
Second half and the Lions look the better, Wright bypassed and Elliot's cross / shot tricked past the Rams goal with nobody to either put it in or clear it. A slightly more fortunate angle and Millwall would have been level.
With the visitors throwing everything forward, the Rams have opportunities on the break, Lisbie from the half way line does well to reach the penalty area before being tackled, El Hamdaoui wastes a chance when the ball breaks favourably for him.
Barnes has the next opportunity. Phillips, a yard off the required pace hauls the youngster down close to the penalty area, a clear yellow. Idiakez with the free kick the wrong side of the post.At the other end, woeful finishing helps the Rams, May comes closer, heading just over the bar.
Westley seeing his chargers running out of steam replaces Johnson and Mounir with Bolder and McIndoe.
Alan Wright slides over the touchline to greet the East Stand and pulls his hamstring in doing so, Jackson takes his place.
Vincent whilst never reaching Mikkel Beck standards is nonetheless substituted. Booed unfairly off as on.
Elliot rests the ball on the top of Camp's net.
Lisbie through twice, Doyle denies.
Millwall shoot centrally from thirty yards. Bolder, arms wide, throws himself in the way of the shot inside the box, a clear penalty waved away by the referee.
Derby can't get a second and Millwall press to the end.
In injury time Moore concedes a free kick with a push six yards outside the box. The wall retreats ten then inches it's way to the edge of the box, such is the time that the Lions take deciding what to do.
Keeper Doyle comes up and still the kick isn't taken . Four players round the ball, eventually it's tapped sideways too hard and Bolder from six yards gets there first and then wins a free kick as the Blue Shirt arrives seconds later.
On another day Millwall could have gained a point, we on the other hand did just enough.
When you are marking time, just enough will do.
Till Rangers.
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Reading vs DERBY COUNTY
A morning falling, sleep denied its due, rubber rumbles on concrete strips. It’s Saturday once more.
Roll-your-own counties of different thickness’ slip past. Eyes wide, hand, rock steady on the wheel, a Roman Road is eaten up and spat out.
The A34, uphill, driving into a pale blue sky with oh so white fluffy cotton wool clouds backlit by sunlight, a perfect heaven for the movies.
A vision lost as the A34 gets revenge. Queues going nonchalantly nowhere, with impatience we turn off.
Lunch at Thrupp, a sandwich in the sun spent watching boats whiz past on the Grand Union at 3mph. We envy their progress.
Back roads beat the bypass before it’s the Motorway.
Miles between junctions a semi bearded busker with tea cosy on his head strums a guitar and sings, he’s half way up the embankment but business must be good as down below an appreciative breakdown man repairs his van.
We edge groundwards seeking parking. At £5 we squeeze into the official site and park next to a plastic dome. Inside kids squeal with enjoyment and shout for joy as a sharp whistle signifies an unseeable goal on the covered training pitch.
Everywhere it’s smiles, infectious we join in. Guests at a party nobody objects to.Inside, the Madejski, a blue and white bowl awaits filling. Seats found far right near the scoreboard up against a barrier separating the fans. It’s still a perfect view.
Camp and Poole first out for the warm up, a smattering of applause greets them from the travelling fans.
A filled bowl watches as John Madejski congratulates his players as the warm up ends before a slow stroll to the centre circle sees the Chairman blow kisses and waves to the four stands full to brimming with fans. It’s impossible to dispel the vision of a packed Pride Park and last year when it could have been us and Sleightholme taking the deserved applause.
Pleasantries over and done with and the game gets underway. Derby are in all black. The visitors having lost Lisbie to a tight hamstring, a well kept secret from the travelling fans, employ Peschisolido as a sole striker.
It’s soul destroying as the diminutive one wanders offside in an effort to gain advantage, when he stays onside he hasn’t the pace to beat the man and it’s a bit much expecting him to win anything in the air.
He needs close support to be effective.
With a brief to get forward and support, the Rams shoot on site. Barnes forcing a good save from the keeper from twenty five yards out.
Reading play sideways football, probing for an opening. Openings are found down the flanks but the quality of the final ball in is poor.
McIndoe, a one trick pony who suffers from memory loss, fires at Hahnemann from thirty yards. It’s a shot on target is the best way to describe it.
The Royals though can’t find the target, headers high and wide match shots that sail into the crowd.
Derby have a large proportion of possession but it’s a slow, slow pace. When the home side gain the ball they match Derby perfectly. Neither team taking risks.
A coin flies over my shoulder narrowly missing and landing by the seat in front. From its angle and height it’s from the scoreboard area. A brief word and money changes hands with the stewards who watch vigilantly the suspects, whilst we share a joke that Reading are cheapskates. It was only a penny.Meanwhile Camp is prone in the net and the referee stops play.
The first half draws to a close, dour but acceptable results wise.
Half time and friendly faces exchange thoughts, it’s part of the camaraderie, meeting fellow fans you don’t always see at home matches. Different view expressed in different locations, one positive a good game holding them without too many problems, the other a poor match hoping that Derby don’t score and Reading up the tempo.
Favouring the first it just goes to show how wrong you can be at times.
Reading started the second like a boxer who was using their first round just to gauge the strength of their opponent.
Nyatanga loses possession just outside his own box, Doyle steals in and Camp has to get down sharply to save. On his feet, the keeper finds Smith with space on the left wing. Smith reaches the box before skying the ball with a wild swipe.
We try to trade punches with the Royals. Bantamweights versus Superheavy, the contest is coming to a close.
Guards down, we reel as a quick one-two courtesy of a clever back heel lets in Harper for the sucker punch straight past Camp.Intoxicated we allow Little to surge into the box, Camp beaten, the side netting comes to the rescue.
Warnings not heeded, players not closed down, we deserve what we get. Wright too deep, too narrow, a cross from the edge of the box. Camp stands and watches as the ball flies to the far edge of the six yard box. Jackson rooted in the centre allows the ball over his head and Naylor in yards of space gleefully nods gently home.
Peschisolido heads up beneath the bar, it’s a weak header from three yards, with all the time in the world the Royals clear off the line. Oh for a banana skin and a what happened next moment.
Reading bring on Oster, moments later he scores with his first touch.
Oster sidefoots home another cross from the flanks that the Rams fail to cut out.
It’s a shambles.
We need a leader, we have Idiakez. On this performance he’d fail to inspire Gordon Ramsey to put together a sentence without a single non-swear word in it. A dire, dismal, diabolical display that deserves more than this poor diatribe.
Derby use substitutes Bisgaard replaces Bolder and Ainsworth Peschisolido. If Bolder wasn’t injured then he’s the most unlucky player on the park, err sorry make that off it.Reading bring on Long, moments later he scores with his first touch.
Long heads home another cross from the flanks that the rams fail to cut out.
By this stage, many of the Rams fans are applauding the goals. Reading are good without a doubt but we make them shine with brilliance. Last time I was this embarrassed we were beating Finn Harps.
It still isn’t over. Long scores undoubtedly the goal of the game, the defence cut to ribbons not knowing where to turn, the striker jinks slightly wide before rifling the ball home the net billows as Camp too late dives despairingly.
The tannoy announces the scorer, it’s the player number, it could just as well be the score.
Natural justice would suggest Westley has the lot of them in for training on Sunday, the players shortchanged themselves, the fans and the Manager in second half and never mind who owns the club, more performances like the one today and the amount of season tickets sold will fall dramatically.
The final whistle, the expected pitch invasion, the party declared truly open. Derby fans stay behind to applaud worthy Champions.
Well done Reading, best of luck next season.
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DERBY COUNTY vs Crystal Palace
Remember Derby victories, remember leaving the ground to the strains of "I Feel Good". Well yesterday good would have been an understatement. Great gets closer although personally on "Top Of The World" did it for me.
Yesterday Derby and Palace took part in a match that even the most jaded of fans couldn’t fail to appreciate. Right from the start both teams attacked. The ball seemed glued to the grass, or at least fitted with a height arrester, whilst referee Wiley came armed with more common sense than cards.
It was breathtaking stuff.
Smith, trickery, Leigertwood last man, a yellow, less than two minutes and the letter of the law gone. And. And it was the right decision.
Fast flowing football, McAnuff, Johnson, Morrison, the ball and the back post, no one present to ripple the net.
Alan Wright, a cross shot, a giant Kiraly tips a corner.Sixteen minutes, Smith through, fouled, a yellow, a red? Tommy though shakes off the tugger, one on one with Kiraly, wide of the post. Just.
Straight up the other end , Johnson strikes with venom. Camp, with new Teflon gloves, parries and Morrison reacts quicker than Nyatanga to give the Eagles the lead.
Derby dominate. Lisbie away, Kiraly in grey jogging bottoms puts in a sprint and closes the chance down. Where to look next, don’t blink.
Open play, Idiakez, right hand side, cuts in, edge of D, unleashes. Gooooaaaalllll!!!! Hairs still tingling as the memory comes flooding back, white boots, golden locks, Hinton in his prime would have been proud to claim that one.
Kiraly, a save from Idiakez’s free kick, then McAnuff wallops the bar.
Bolder fires a rocket, the keeper at full stretch prevents the ball reaching the top corner at the expense of a corner. Or so it seemed, half time monitors prove a defender has a headache beating the keeper to the ball.
Second half Palace kick off, right wing, Mcindoe A.W.O.L. not for the first time. McAnuff, Watson, Camp caught flat footed, Jackson a stooping header off the line. Phew, fifteen seconds of pure magic.
Johnson again with a pile driver that Camp can only push away.
And so it continued. Barnes and Lisbie through for one on ones with the keeper, Kiraly an excellent game wouldn’t be beaten.
Camp misreading the flight of the ball yet blocking everything.
Marco Reich on as a substitute booed unmercifully and in my opinion, unfairly.
The cliché of end to end football played out in front of us.
Smith, Jackson and Lisbie playing "keep ball" by the corner flag. Suddenly possession becomes potential, Lisbie threading the ball through, weaving into the box. Potential becomes promising as Lisbie tumbles under two challenges. Wiley, only feet away, runs to the spot. Oh yes!
It’s Idiakez. Oh no! Barnes or Lisbie whispers into Inigo’s ear, which is it? We can’t look.
The spot! The Spaniard! Weak! Weak shot. Kiraly yards forward saves from an easy height. Wait, the rebound! It’s coming back! Straight to Idiakez. Please! Oh please! A leg swinging, the ball, a foot opened up. Sidefooted, the ball slides home. Waves of relief released into the air. Pride Park goes loopy! Even the West Stand join in.Added on minutes tick away, whistles in the crowd louder than on the pitch.
Finally it’s over. Applause rings out and continues as the players and Westley soak up the deserved admiration on the pitch.
Filtering out, phrases oft repeated "Best Game So Far", "Game Of The Season", "Promotion Form", "Got Our Moneys Worth Today", "Somebody Ought To Give Westley A Contract Now Before We Lose Him". You nod each and every time with a warm feeling inside. It feels good.
Good enough to let queuing cars out of the car park in front of you.
An incredible performance an incredible day.
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Luton vs DERBY COUNTY
A corner of a bar. An attractive lady drinks a cocktail. A suave suited gentleman approaches, with a gleam in his eye he asks
"Were you truly wafted here from paradise?"
"Nah, Luton airport". The deadbeat reply from Lorraine Chase.
Ad advertisement from the Seventies that arguably put Luton on the map.
Or at least Luton Airport.
Yesterday, if given the choice of hindsight between Kenilworth Road or the Airport then you might have chosen the latter.
It would have at least have been warm, have had adequate toilets, seats that hadn't been cut to narrow the width, legroom that economy seats on even the most budget of airlines better with ease. Further had it rained I'm pretty sure the terminal roof wouldn't have had gaping holes in it either.As to the entertainment value of spending a couple of hours at an airport doing nothing or watching the poor game unfurl in front of us - at least you can stand at an airport.
Ten years since we last visited Kenilworth Road and nothing has changed. Not one iota.
Second row in front of the goal, we stare at wisps of green grass as they struggle through the soil like the vestiges of hair fighting back from a shaved head. You almost want to count each one. It's riveting stuff. It's like the football.
Derby fresh from performances over Burnley and Watford are as stale as week old bread.
We defend on the edge of our box. Luton hold and layoff the ball well only the finishing lets them down. Edwards wide of one post by inches then Brkovic closer still to the other, Camp beaten both times.
The Rams meanwhile resort to breakaway football. Smith on the right upended on the touchline by Davis. A talking to rather than a yellow.Robinson gets the yellow for bringing down Barnes near the centre circle on another breakaway.
Lisbie holding back on pace, McIndoe on the left wasteful and found wanting.
Barnes begins a twisty little mazy run, a little mazy twisty run extends, now it's a mazy run that has twisted thirty five yards. A fine shot that Beresford holds at second attempt. It's the highlight of the first half for the Rams.
Meanwhile Luton have everybody in the box. Moore blocks the ball, Camp does also, it's a foot from the line. Minutes later we watch as yet another Luton attack fizzes past the post.
Half time, stretch of the legs, peering down into the upstairs windows of the houses within touching distance behind as we queue for the loo's. We queue to return too.
Second half we improve immediately. McIndoe on the right more effective. Darren Moore close twice with headers, almost ripping the shirt off a Luton player as he fought to get to the second. A clear foul not given.
The game opens up, the Hatters trade blows with the Rams, neither side though can finish.
McIndoe is substituted by Holmes. Lisbie, looking looser and moving more easily, comes close.
Idiakez under little pressure hits the ball into touch. A long throw, a flick on, Stephen
Howard holds the ball then turns under the close attention of Moore to rifle the ball into the corner of the net. Luton lead by a single goal.Minutes tick away. A brave decision by Westley sees skipper Idiakez replaced by Peschisolido as we play 4-4-2.
Camp saves from Vine and Beresford blocks a goal bound effort before Camp comes up for the final corner.
All in vain.
Not a performance to recall, a bit like being stuck at an airport faced with a flight cancellation really. You want to forget it as soon as it is over.
Till next time.
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DERBY COUNTY vs Burnley
A victory over Plymouth, new obligatory routines to be followed. Squeeze car into space between trees. Fumble for £2 worth of change. Emerge past the boarded up clinic and stop.
Stare skywards once again at the impressive Cathedral sitting on the skyline dominating the view. Green Lane in perfect alignment with the spire and clock face. A picture frame pose.
Continuing, each step sees minutes disappear off the dial.
Powers, no more.
A right turn, once a busy B road, now pedestrianised, another church.
Boots, William Hutton and his dog better placed than Florence Nightingale who looks forlornly at her lamp. Perhaps one quick rub and the good times come back. And I don’t mean Midland Drapery, despite those wonderful tubes that whizzed away your money returning with change and your divvy. Divvy? Was that the Co-Op?
It matters not, thoughts swept away by the hustle and bustle, Derby in full flow, garish East Street, cheap and cheerless.Past the Co-Op with its large screen, flashing pink and aquamarine blues whilst a market trader sells what looks like dodgy dog eared gear below, a magnet for kids. A mean Dad says "No" to the plea for false Yug-Gi-Oh cards. It’s me.
Birds, bread of Derbyshire. Queue patiently, my turn, an old biddy proves me wrong appearing from nowhere, pushing past in a no nonsense sort of way that only comes with age. I roll my eyes and wait. A full bag of farmhouse, cobs, Tomato sausages and pork pies and the routine continues. Whatever happened to those chocolate batons with the diamond shaped purple thingy on top. Not seen those for months.
Pride Park. Shop, more staff than customers. A choice of eight to pay for a Programme. Ticket Office, Reading Away bought. QPR only a phone call away. A Monday phone call. Crazy in a "Can’t sell them ‘cos they’re not on the system" sort of way.
JJB’s, no hot food, a good omen from a routine point of view, possibly more. Junior Rams, Chelsea and Spurs, a winning place in the half time shootout.
Chips, hot food once, now cold, Bovril still warm. Team news McIndoe in for Holmes, Jackson on the bench, Hajto off it.
In the seats, brilliant blue sunshine warms whilst the chilled outside wind doesn’t quite make it inside.
White and Blue balloons flutter both bunched and alone. Gunfire retorts suggest either people with a penchant for bursting balloons or a disagreement with the message.Conclusions drawn yours alone.
Kick off, all eyes on the new boy. Left wing, middle of park, anywhere with space, step overs, tricks and pace. It’s a good start.
Smith, not be outdone, responds with his own brand of magic pulling the ball back for Idiakez who blazes high into the stands.
Our Spaniard then threads a delightful ball forward for Lisbie, lack of match pace means the chance has closed and a corner the outcome.
McIndoe takes it, then retreats. Half way back towards dug outs the new boy reclaims the ball. A long deep cross of quality is whipped in towards Lisbie. A header across the face of the goal and Smith slides the ball home by the post. Eighteen minutes on the clock.
Burnley attack and lose the ball, Ricketts, as big as Moore but then size isn’t everything, at fault. Sinclair blocks McIndoe intentionally and after much arm waving and complaining the former Leicester player is cautioned.
Smith, Lisbie and McIndoe make nonsense of a 4-5-1 formation and with Idiakez playing in the hole behind Lisbie at times we look almost 4-2-4 with waves of attacking intent.
Smith nearly turns that intent into his second goal with a curling shot that just fails to turn enough to beat the post and goalkeeper.
This is though a Derby side well worth the admission price.
Burnley block and battle away, they unwisely concede free kicks around the box. Idiakez and McIndoe discuss their options, the skipper pulls rank and then blasts a low shot through the jumping, back turning wall and into the net. Two nil and we’re on our way.
Two becomes three as the hard working Barnes is fouled on the edge of the box. Idiakez again sends McIndoe packing and a lofted free kick comes back of the crossbar and into the path of Moore on the penalty spot. Our giant raises in slow motion, head leaning back then neck snapping forward to power the ball home for his first goal and the Rams third.A bus load of fans leave the Burnley end. It’s a big loss when you only bring two coaches and the odd mini bus to start with.
Still the Clarets try to push forward, Ricketts blasts a shot that rebounds into the path of Idiakez just short of the centre circle. A race forwards over thirty yards being won by the White Shirts until McGreal upends the Derby Captain at the expense of a yellow card. McIndoe waits patiently but still can’t get a look in at the free kick.
Micah Hyde, cynically brings down Smith as the fans scream for a red. It’s a yellow and the first half ends with Derby deservedly three nil up.
Second half and we contain without looking threatened or particularly threatening. Wright and Edworthy solid dependable full backs. Moore and Nyatanga making sure nobody should suffers from Ricketts in this day and age. Bolder is belligerent and Barnes fires a barrage of quality passes from five to forty yards whilst all the time Lisbie, McIndoe and Smith chase and harass.
Less though by the minute as we retreat into a comfort zone.
Branch comes on from the bench is roundly booed each time he touches the ball. We don’t lose our breath.
Barnes, who has suffered more than most from the close attention of Burnley, leaves to a standing ovation. Thirlwell appears, chalk and cheese spring to mind.McIndoe is given a rest to yet more standing applause, Holmes a pale shadow. As is Pechisolido who sees out the final minutes for Lisbie.
Final whistle, Branch makes a beeline for Edworthy, hands shaken and goodbye. The Rams stay longer soaking up the deserved applause.
A fine win!
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Watford vs DERBY COUNTY
Visions of Watford.
A doughnut Inner Ring Road filled with jam. Car Parks filled with fans. Mac's Bar, friendly but a little more run down than last year. Glasses filled with Guinness Extra Cold, black and white hiding the brown stains of use.
Vicarage Road, outside, sunshine and lunch on the hoof. Inside, searched and approved, a concourse tunnel just slightly wider than a Chevrolet Matiz, a car in which you can adjust both wing mirrors at the same time without outstretched arms. Having being unfortunate enough to drive one for a week recently believe me I know.
Into the stands, red and yellow, numbers flexible, Row J 43, 44, 45, 120, 50, 50, 49. Regularly ripped out seats? New numbering? Who knows, a quick glance reveals other rows have similar challenges. A problem for a sell out day, not today.Watford kick off and attack the goal in front of us like spiritual descendants of Wimbledon before all the franchise fuss. High long balls into the box, battering ram football. Moore and Nyatanga firm.
Against the aerial bombardment, Derby, in an all white strip, have the first real chance. Lisbie runs after a ball that should be the keepers, Foster drops it and the ball squirts to Smith with an open goal. A bobbling ball, Smith swings and collapses to crowing from the Rookery.
A wake up call administered, the Golden Boys attack. It's a long ball over the top. No surprise. Other than Edworthy napping playing everybody on side. The ball finds Young unmarked and with time eight yards out. Camp turbo charges out and blocks Young's powerful shot. Powerful words spoken to his defenders once the ball is cleared too.
Lisbie not looking matchfit continues in his solitary role. Bolder sends him clear chasing the ball. Reaching the area a defender gets in front and then collapses, Lisbie is free. Foster stands up, Kevin shoots, the keeper gets a touch, next touch is the post and finally the net. We roar our approval. Lisbie celebrates by dashing to Westley, the team follows.Predictably we look to defend. Deep, no joy.
Marlon King receives a chest height ball on the edge of the box. Moore behind tight. King twists and turns making a yard or two of space. Space used to perfection as he rifles the ball into the net leaving Camp with no chance.
King runs diagonally in front of us towards the corner flag to celebrate. Inciting the fans? Nah, King runs to the vast array of tripod aided zoom lenses owned by the photographers present. At five yards Marlon, have you lost your focus?
We hang on to half time courtesy of some poor finishing by the men in yellow shirts. Especially Bouazza who volleys over the bar from ten yards achieving greater height than distance.
Second half and Bangura replaces Bouazza. Derby test the patience of the whole ground. Camp time wasting worse than a Jeremy Keith interview on Radio Derby. He play acts too.
Lisbie limps off, Peschisolido runs on.
Camp, having got the goat of the Rookery long ago finally gets a yellow card from the lenient referee.
Watford throw everything forward. A counter attack, Peschisolido somehow gets in front of Mackay and is sent tumbling. A yellow card, a free kick outside the box, Idaikez, wasted.
Another counter attack, Bolder, Peschi, Barnes. A bobbled shot. Easy meat. Keeper down, ball under him, back of net. A goal. A goal! A gooooaaaaalllll!!! In the stands twelve hundred fans act as if they've won the jackpot on the lottery. It's not real. It is!The Hornets kick off for the third time.
Like a distance runner struggling, having taken the lead we try to slow the pace. It doesn't work.
Six minutes of injury time signalled by the referee, it could have been more.
Derby's penalty area. Crowded. A yellow shirt volleys home. Protests. Hand ball. The goal stands. Bangura credited with the equaliser.
Final whistle, applause for the team. With a smile on our faces we depart.
We'd have never dreamed of being disappointed with a point from Watford beforehand.
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DERBY COUNTY vs Plymouth Argyle
"We Are Derby, Lucky Derby, Lucky Derby, Lucky Rams"
And if we had chants for individual matches that would be our song for Plymouth.
Less than two minutes on the clock, new signing Alan Wright plays a touch line hugging ball forward to Smith. Smith drops his shoulder, reaches the bye line and floats a delicate cross into the box. No danger. Bolder, more than one step beyond the back post, unmarked loops a header goal wards. No danger. The net ripples. Yes Danger!!!! One nil up, one minute 43 seconds on the clock, a dream start.It's our highlight of the game. The rest of the game is a level playing field that slopes downhill as the sand grains spill through the hourglass.
Plymouth come close, Norris, their man of the match, fires a wicked dipping volley just over Camps' cross bar. The same player other side of the pitch, Idiakez and Moore bamboozled by magic. Lewin Nyatanga to the rescue, the best defender on show.
Norris again, this time Camp saves.
Pericard, such a constant threat to R.S.I. in the linesman's elbow, you wonder if a Risk Assessment has been done by the Referees Association.
Smith faster than Connolly, a Yellow for the late arriver.
Derby manage long range shots that never challenge the scoreboard.
Second half and it's more of the same. Norris blasts, Camp parries, Plymouth's lack of accuracy their downfall.
Wright stops Chadwick in full flight. In the stands we sit nervously.
Nerves turn to jelly as Norris crosses the ball on the deck two yards out, an open goal. Agonisingly we wait to see if anybody can tap home a simple chance. They can't and we breathe once more.
Smith, racing down the West Stand line, goes over the outstretched leg of Connolly, a second Yellow then a Red by the referee to add to the thousands of Red Cards being shown by the fans to the Board.
Ten men Plymouth run the Rams ragged. Chants of "Sack The Board" signal another attack by the Green shirts. Fate and tempting springs to mind. Luckily it's not.
"You've only got twelve men" sing the Pilgrims behind the goal. Secretly we wish for more.
A poor Peschisolido departs and Holmes full of running and floor flinging comes on.
Moore and Nyatanga both require treatment at the same time. Plymouth restart with a free kick into the box to jeers from the crowd. Moore is back on straight away while Lewin has to lose his number before being allowed back on. A blank white shirt without blood.
Lisbie, who had been lively rather than dangerous, receives a perfect through ball, a yard clear of two chasing defenders. Lisbie's first touch his last as the ball runs through to the keeper. A golden opportunity missed. As was an Idiakez's corner which was tipped onto the bar and just out of reach of Nyatanga following up.
Minutes later we escape again as Camp stands up and Buszaky's shot is straight at the keeper.
Deep into stoppage time Ainsworth replaces Lisbie to waste away seconds.
Final whistle, three vital points, ten matches left, nine points minimum needed for safety, Watford away next week an unlikely source of succour.
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Norwich City vs DERBY COUNTY
Norwich, half term, the perfect opportunity for a weekend away. A five o'clock start on Friday and a day on the Norfolk Broads, a chill out day in more ways than one but still bliss, passing more Crested Grebes than boats. One Little Grebe gives an unusual and welcome appearance along with the Egyptian Geese.
A play, the Theatre Royal, Horrible Histories, perfect entertainment for a ten year old, Florence Nightingale receiving more care than she gives. Those Vile Victorians, who'd have guessed? Biases fit for partisans, anytime.
Saturday, a city explored, Tudor beams, Tombland the Roman market place, the Cathedral, all in direct contract to the Forum which looks for all the world like a railway station built in glass.
A map pulled from pocket. In seconds accosted. "Where do you want to go?" Embarrassed I choose a location a long way away. Taking the directions carefully, not wishing to offend, I saunter towards London Street until my guide disappears into WH Smith.
Rose Street, The Complete Angler, an old tosspot orders "Old Tosspot" Smiles all round. Soaking up the sun on the patio, the police send bar staff to check on a ten year old drinking Britvic Apple 55 from a plastic pint pot. Proof positive than 330ml won't fit into a half pint plastic cup. Friendly folk the locals whilst on the bridge above Derby's finest walks past with ne'er a smile.A wander by the riverside, to the ground. Watch the second half of Manure and the Scousers in "Scores" a club for fans built into the ground. The BBG without corporate and like the BBG it has an entrance directly into the ground.
Apart from Ipswich fans, it must be hard to hate Norwich.
Inside the Jarrold Stand a choice of wines and beers makes it easier for those who have to drive.
A Cornish pasty heavily peppered internally and with a hint of exotic spices beats a Mediterranean Roasted Vegetable pie, only heat lacking from an enjoyable bite.
Pitchside, a high stand, views of Norwich, such an improvement from the Carrow Road of old.
Derby kick off, a 4-1-4-1 formation that seeks to emulate a potential scoreline. Twice.
Idiakez back to his impotent role in front of the back four creates little.
Thorne cautioned for following through on the Spaniard as Norwich impose themselves on the game.
Up front the Canaries have a short pacey striker in Earnshaw. Moore has his work cut out as too does Hajto who is beguiled by a flick over his head only for the Welsh man to finish poorly.
Earnshaw dines out on every challenge, a Dick Emery of acting, hamming it up unnecessarily.
Meanwhile Johansson has his screen test, going down in the box. More realistic than Earnshaw, this is Richard Bradford from the "Man In A Suitcase" a role played far more realistic.
Appeal turmed down; the ball breaks to Graham. In the centre of the park he unleashes a rocket that is still raising when it hits the spectators behind the goal. We feel his desire to score like a heart extended before rejection by talent, a hard mistress to follow.Norwich continue to waste gilt edged chances. A free kick into the area is headed back across goal by Thorne. Camp beaten. Earnshaw deflects the ball back into Camps' arms. A farce suitable for filming as a Carry on Camping variety.
Still Norwich miss.
A shot over the bar, then Camp parries before the ball is turned home whilst a flag signifies it won't count.
Derby earn a corner. Rehman pushes Hajto twice before the ball comes in, the linesman in front of us watches. Why?
Idiakez with the kick as usual fails to beat the first man.
It's clear and Norwich funnel out.
The ball reaches Holmes in defence, a slice and Earnshaw is through. Moore is bamboozled and a chip into the box finds Thorne who heads downwards and the ball is turned over the line by the Johansson. Kenna, demanding an offside earns a yellow as the Yellows filter back.
Norwich miss again. Camp parries a shot into the path of Earnshaw in a great position but the striker misses his shot completely before Johanssons' shot hits the crossbar allowing Earnshaw to tap home way after the flag was raised.
Smith creates a chance but Graham is slow and allows the defender to take the forward line at the near post. A corner which came to nothing the result.
Safri is booked for a challenge on Bolder, who after Idiakez, becomes the number one target for the home sides midfield.
Half time and the feelings of being beaten easily are hard to dispel.
Refreshments speedily served, cardboard sleeves added to hot drinks to handle comfortably. Do Carlsburg do football catering we wonder?
Seconds into the second half and Thorne heads Huckerby's cross over the bar.
Derby try to stamp some authority into the game.
Earnshaw caught by Hajto. Safri receives Smiths studs after the ball has gone. A Canary in a coalmine incident, lethal you assume. Surely roll after roll of agony building cannot be wrong.
After the card is issued Smiths' way, the speed of Safris' recovery suggests a true "Idiakez" moment.
Hajto heads a weak back pass into Earnshaws path, Huckerby fires wide. Relived we chant for "Westlys Barmy Army".Bolder finds himself as a centre forward, he beats the last defender but with the ball running away and Green fast approaching, the ball ends up over the bar.
Peschisolido comes on for Holmes who has had little effect. The Canadian proves a perfect replacement.
Norwich sub McKenzie get Moores boot up the a*se , it looked like it hurt too.
Huckerby's cross to the centre of the box is messed up as two Canaries fly for the same ball.
Barnes and Idiakez, mix it with the ball and a Yellow shirt. The Yellow shirt wins as we protest a foul. A simple one two and Huckerby thrashes the ball into the corner of the net giving Camp no chance.
Two Nil spells mass exodus. Derby leave in droves.
On the pitch we follow the ridgeway path expounded by Brown as the game eeks away. Long balls. Channels. Chase. Chuffin heck. No way back.
Final whistle the players, more interested in shaking hands with the opposition than acknowledging their fans, knowing they let themselves down. The exception Danny Graham, hesitant at first, he comes over to shakes hands and throw a shirt to the fans, he receives some support from the fans remaining.
A wholehearted gesture from a limited player who gave his all in the White shirt of the Rams. Danny best of luck with your future career and thank you for your effort.
Filing out, back along King Street, comparison and contrasts exchanged with locals. Dragon Hall a Tudor market hall on one side and on the other new flats on the site of Norwich's oldest Brewery. It's impossible not to reflect on the glories of the past and the potential for the future. For both teams and cities it's a period of change.
Till Plymouth.
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DERBY COUNTY vs Leeds United
With all the attention to off the field matters beforehand this game had the potential to be an anti climax.
And so it was.
From the opening strains of the "Dambusters" over the p.a. that left the crowd unsure as to when to sing their line.
From the mistimed tackle by the stubble headed Crainey on Jackson that deserved a card rather than words from the ineffectual Dowd.
From a midfield pairing of Bolder and Barnes that had performed so well as part of a three down South, now overrun as a two.
To Edworthy, filling in at left back, standing watching as Blake nips in behind, the shot leaves Camp dead before cannoning off Darren Moore’s rump for a corner.
To Hajto purposely blocking Hulse by the West Stand, a yellow card harsh, routine we thought, stitches and time revise the opinion. To imaginary fouls in penalty areas given the defenders way, El Hamdaoui talking his way into Dowd’s book as Derry kicks his way in minutes later upending Bisgaard.
Two thousand Leeds fans, their maximum allocation, cheer the better team from the first half off.
Second half faster tempo. More competitive but few chances.
El Hamdaoui flicks the ball on for Graham, a beautiful ball, you want to frame it. The Middlesborough loanster clean through, only the keeper to beat. Without joy we remain in our seats, having seen it so many times before. Graham shoots directly at Sullivan who parries for a corner. A matchwinning moment was blown yet again.
Jackson, who had done well marking Lewis, pulls up, hobbling with the ball over the line. A substitution called for, cancelled, then called for again as play continues. Doyle on, it takes the youngster some time to come to terms with the tricky Canadian, luckily Leeds can't capitalise.
Kelly clatters Barnes, an unquestionable card.
"Peschisolido" sing the crowd as Graham goes off. Holmes replaces Bisgaard too.
Holmes cuts inside, worries the Peacocks, then throws himself to the floor in the box, laughable.
Doyle catches up with Lewis, he wins the ball leaves the winger on the deck, then strikes up an attack to great applause. El Hamdaoui finishes it off to "Ooh’s" as the ball flies just wide and high past the angle of bar and post.
Final whistle, the better side in the second half, the Rams return the fans appreciation.
East Stand Concourse closed. For a cuppa go North. For a Protest, Go West, young man, those inside can, no doubt, go for coffee.
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Southampton vs DERBY COUNTY
Brown, the three P's man, Physiotherapists, Psychiatrists and Prozone, gone. CBE. Westley in charge, Confidence, Belief & Encouragement and it shows.
Derby are once again playing passing football, on the deck. Over ninety minutes we are the better team, Burley's Saints follow a similar style all it needs is goals.
That none came, little surprise, given that Graham for all his work rate looks so impotent it can only be a matter of time before he's signed up to promote Safer Sex, brilliant foreplay but just a little dribble at the end. A joke not funny.
Restrained to long range efforts, free kicks and corners, Derby have a go, Bolder twice in the first half, Idiakez a corner which might have crossed the line and Moore a header off the underside of the bar.
Johnson carried off on a stretcher, to return for a cameo appearance as the first half draws to an end.
Barnes and Bolder, bossing a packed midfield, they overshine Idiakez.
Second half Jackson adds steel at the back, Holmes with suppport, Smith taking on the Saints in numbers. All we need is a goal.
It doesn't come.Camp wonderful save one on one dropping onto the ball superbly.
Bisgaard back in form, delightful flicks and touches as the Rams waltz through Red & White striped shirts. No end product. We need a goalscorer. So too do Southampton.
We had one once didn't we.
Applause at the final whistle, two points lost in truth but *so* much better than Colchester, Coventry and Crewe. Football wise.
Also in truth and honesty, praise for Referee P Taylor, no cards, no fuss, common sense in Green. "Well done ref" three little words but important nonetheless.
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DERBY COUNTY vs Burnley (FA Cup 3rd Round)
Make no mistake about it, Burnley tore the Rams to pieces. Only paper tiger Akinbiyi and the perennial Poole preventing what should have been and what was.
Derby, formationless as a jellyfish, start with two right backs, Captain "chaos" Kenna notionally a centre half and Edworthy.
Michael Johnson a left full back and Nyatanga cut adrift in the centre.
Add to that Idiakez playing as a centre forward and the best player against Millwall, Adam Bolder, left on the bench and you could be forgiven for thinking we were watching a testimonial.
A crowd of 12,713, a good 2/3000 of them Claret and Blue added to the feeling.
A feeling of despondency sank through the crowd as Burnley ripped our rearguard apart with five good chances to open the scoring in the first fifteen minutes. The fifth saw Akinbiyi, arguably offside fail to beat Poole from three yards, the keeper deflecting the ball for a corner.
Coming and catching the corner, Poole intelligently found Peschisolido with an accurate long throw. Peschi on the left touch-line flicked the ball past the defender and began the chase to goal from the half way line. Losing the battle on speed, the Canadian placed himself in front of the defender preventing the tackle and Peschi prepared to cross. As he did a covering Claret got a foot to the cross and it took a wicked deflection looping over keeper Jensen and into the far corner of the net.It took everybody by surprise. Including the guy on the p.a, a home goal at Derby and no music!
Akinbiyi meanwhile was clearly unhappy with the linesman.
Seriously so. Delaying the restart the referee became involved as Ade threw the ball to the centre spot and the striker received a caution. It added to the one issued to Michael Johnson earlier for swinging a trailing leg to bring down Elliot on the edge of the box but not the one that should have been issued to Sinclair for a series of fouls on Peschi. It's churlish though to grumble about a referee when the officials aren't the worst team on the pitch.
Nyatanga repeated his mistake from Millwall but got away with it this time, whilst distribution from our back four resorted to long pumped balls for our Spanish and Canadian couple to chase.
Deep defending, long balls (Kenna especially poor), Holmes and Smith trying to reach the front two, the game was stretched to the limit.
O'Connor picks the ball up in midfield and runs towards goal, no single challenge, nobody close and O'Connor fires low into the corner of the net past Poole from twenty five yards to level the scores.
Two minutes before half time and Brown appears in his suit, takes one look at his seat in the dugout and despatches Guthrie to get a cloth and wipe it. This duly done Brown feels up to sitting down. Hurrah, who says our manager gets his decisions wrong! Now his priorities that's a different matter.
Derby depart to boos at half time.
Second half and the Rams are out early. Burnley eventually arrive and we get underway.
A tactic emerges. It's not ours. Attack Michael Johnson. Time and time again it works. O'Connor feeds Akinbiyi and from six yards the ball and the goal remain friends unreunited.
Derby do play on the break. Idiakez with the ball, Holmes left, Peschi right, Ini chooses right. Peschisolido with the ball, into the box and a delightful chip leaves Jensen rooted and the ball nestles in the net. This time meant. Cue music, cue the diminutive Canadian pointing to his name on the back of his shirt for the second time in the match.Now was the time to work. And work we did. Lee Holmes, Idiakez and Peschisolido tearing round like cats on catnip, chasing anything and everything.
With Burnley pressing a third was always possible, Peschisolido, on a hat trick unselfishly feeds Holmes, the winger rides a tackle in the box before firing across the goal and just wide of the post. Thirlwell set free, reaches the penalty area, he's fouled, he rides the challenge but can't score, going down a better option spurned.
Branch is brought on to muted boos.
Peschisolido in substituted to a standing ovation as we reach injury time.
Finally the whistle, applause and relief.
Read though nothing into the result, consider it a "Get Of Jail" card fortuitously played.
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Millwall vs DERBY COUNTY
First away day joys of 2006. In Deptford Police vehicles cordon off a street from both ends lights still a flashing. In Lewisham a white suited forensic team tackle a front garden and at the New Den we are ushered into our own enclosure only yards away from the turnstiles whilst around the corner a counter sells tickets to everyone for the away end. Trouble Sir? Only with the visitors, our membership scheme ensures our fans behave. Welcome to the crazy world of Millwall.
Crazy on the pitch too. Ball bundled into the net, Camp one handed puts it in under a challenge from the lanky Ben May, a free kick given, an late Christmas present from the referee.
Smith runs with the ball into the box, the player's pulled forward leaving the ball behind, no foul, the Lions receive their gift from the man in green. Even handed incomprehensible refereeing.
And so it goes on. Lewin Nyatanga, unmarked heads against the post, Barry Cogan unmarked curls the ball up and over the bar but not by much.
It not a bad game of football per se the ball is being kept on the deck, Millwall work hard as a team and chances abound, there is nobody capable of finishing. In either team.
Derby don’t exactly dominate, it’s evenly split, but we do lack movement and a desire for the ball, Seth and Lee Holmes apart. Remember your schooldays, chuck the ball out to the winger and everybody get into the box. Tactically naïve would be a compliment.
Déjà vu strikes. Barry Cogan unmarked curls the ball up and over the bar but not by much.
Half time, a brief chat to Arctic Inge and we’re off again.
Attacking the travelling fans, we gape as keeper Doyle seems to carry Nyatanga’s deflection over the line.
Déjà vu revised. Barry Cogan unmarked hits a low shot that rolls past the post but not by much.
There’s a lot of it about. Unmarking, that is!
Holmes out wide left, beats his man then hits a purler of a cross for Sethlad unmarked to run on to and power home with his head. You could see his neck muscles bulging as he snaps off the header. We celebrate. An hour gone.Having got the celebration out of the way it’s back to form. The Rams sit back and try to hold onto the lead. Need I go on?
Well if you haven’t stopped reading then the predictable happens. Barry Cogan stands over a free kick awarded for a foul by Smith who threw himself to the ground in front of a Lion. Cogan whips the ball in from the edge of the box and central defender Elliot adds the touch to level the scores.
Unmarked you ask? Apart from Graham who should have been marking him raising his hands to the sky asking why. If we had a mirror we’d have given it to you there and then Danny.
It doesn’t get any better. Derby press, lose possession, Nyatanga’s attempted clearance is charged down by the pacey Williams, Camp come and goes to ground to easily and Williams has a simple tap in to give Milwall the lead two one.
Brown try substitutions, he gets boos. Peschisolido and Barnes for Bolder and Smith. One works one doesn’t, the youngster impressive on the right wing. Brown is a manager out of touch with his fans.
Comparatively motionless we go through the motions.
A final whistle and the six hundred travelling fans exit in silence. White shirts, heads down head for the tunnel. A single soul looks to the fans and applauds. A single fan responds. It was that type of game.
Relegation? No, I don’t think so but it will be close.
Closing the coach doors our escorted journey home begins. Minutes later it's stopped dead as one of the four police motorcyclists mows downs a pedestrian. I'll settle for our problems after all.
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