A midweek dash to promotion contenders...Time for another drubbing?

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This game had been originally scheduled for a Saturday, and when the fixture list came out I put a huge ring around the fixture in my mind and thought to myself, that’s it, this is a game I cannot possibly miss, it’s my most local game, Saturday afternoon, few beers, it had a great away day written all over it. With the pesky Albion team progressing nicely in the FA Cup, the game fell foul of the scheduling, and the game was pushed back to a Tuesday night, but I wasn’t too put out by that, book the day off, few beers, train home after, slight deviation from original plans, but we were still good to go. That was, until an email dropped into my inbox at work explaining that a branch managers meeting had been pencilled in for that date.

Great, no chance of booking it off, and all hopes of a pre-match social up in smoke. Thanks, work.

So anyway, the day came round, and I had my meeting a couple of junctions down the M5, and even that didn’t pass without me embarrassing myself by having the world’s worst nosebleed in the middle of some presentation by the training department. I’d got a few napkins left over after my dinner, but they were no use at all, and I had to excuse myself mid-presentation and go and clean myself up. Home time came and there was enough time for me to sit down, have a cuppa, and then Mrs Sally and I got ready for the short drive to West Brom.

Mindful that parking around there can be tricky, and that junction of the M5 is a complete and utter shit on a matchday, we gave ourselves an hour, and fortunately, we didn’t need anything like that long, and come half seven we were all ready for the match. One thing that I really liked from the Albion tannoy announcer was that when he read the line-ups out, on all 3 occasions I heard him do it, he made a point of saying ‘and a welcome back to the Hawthorns for Darren Purse/James O’Connor’, which I thought was a nice little touch, and unless I’m stone deaf at home games, I haven’t heard our bloke at Hillsborough do the same. It wasn’t a big thing, but I thought it was quite classy. Unfortunately that was not to be the only thing about the club that was classy on the night.
             

             
THE MATCH
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The first half hour or so was quite low key, both teams cancelling each other out, and the only clear chance of note came when a cross from Jerome Thomas on their left found its way to Brunt, on his own 12 yards out, but his scissor kick was wild and Grant was not tested.

Thomas didn’t have much joy up against Eddie Nolan, with the loanee having another very solid game, standing up to the tricky winger, and keeping him mostly quiet. Wednesday played their best football through Jermaine Johnson, and after a couple of jinking mazy runs, Albion wised up and doubled up on him, and this countered his threat, until just before half time, as Johnson, chasing a clearance from an Albion corner, bullied Marek Cech into a woeful back pass which Johnson locked on to, and having lobbed the on rushing Scott Carson, we were all up and on our feet, arms outstretched, ready for the ball to nestle in the vacant net, but after what seemed like an eon, the ball dropped just beyond the goal, and the fevered anticipation turned to pure unadultered anguish as the Wednesday fans slumped, hands on head everywhere.

That one moment gave me and no doubt others a good bit of optimism, that we could get behind them, intimidate them, and make a chance from a hoofed clearance upfield. The Albion players left the field at half time to a mixture of groans, tinged with boos, the natives were restless.

The second half began with Di Matteo making two changes that would wield great influence over the remainder of the game, with the withdrawal of the ineffective Jerome Thomas, and Robert Koren replacing him, and Brunt swapping sides, moving to his natural left side. Brunt had a frustrating first half, and in all fairness, Tommy Spurr stood upto him and didn’t let him play, this clearly frustrated Brunt, who made at least 4 fouls on Spurr, all pushes in the back, frustrating for the Owls that this persistent style of foul was not rewarded with a booking. These two changes invigorated Albion going forward, and they looked a lot more cohesive as they tried to find a way through, in contrast to the first half, which was full of balls banged high from back to front, and Wednesday’s tactic of slapping Clarke on Mulumbu whenever Albion has possession at the back had worked well and there wasn’t much total football to speak of.

Dorrans and Morrison’s movement was much more varied as they dropped deeper to try and get on the ball and influence play. The anonymous Luke Moore was replaced by the imposing figure of Ishmail Miller on the hour, by now the complexion of the game had changed, and Albion were stepping it up. Within a minute or so of his appearance, Miller was collecting a Tamas pass on his chest before bustling towards goal and shooting narrowly wide. Minutes later Lee Grant was making his first in a series of top class saves, as Olsson’s towering header was parried away, with the rebound being blasted high into the stand by Miller. Albions tails were up now, and we were hanging on, shots were flying in, crosses were being bravely blocked by yellow shirts, and nerves around me were jangling, none more so than Mrs Salop, who squeezed the life out of my hands over and over again, then let go as we cleared our lines, it got my circulation going of nothing else. The fans were rallying behind the players, letting them know we were there, and we were willing them to keep Albion at bay. Jermaine Johnson was a frustrated spectator by now, and was replaced by Tom Soares, which can only be seen as a consolidatory move, and our most potent threat was put out of commission. We could only invite them on once our primary outlet had gone. We banged it away, they kept coming back with it.

The siege continued, Tamas’s long pass was collected by the threatening Brunt, whose cross was met firmly by the head of Miller, whose powerful downward header was scrambled round the post by Grant, who was putting in the shift of his life, and from the resulting corner, he was equal to Morrisons header, which was creeping under the bar. This couldn’t continue, could it? Could we keep a clean sheet against a team that hadn’t failed to score at home all season? Surely not, but it felt like it, this was great rearguard last ditch defending from our players, and if they could keep Albion out, this would have been the defensive performance of the season. It wasn’t to be, but fuck me if it didn’t take a goal of the season contender to undo us. Koren cut inside two of our players from the right, and hit a pearler beyond the airborne Grant into the corner. It was a true wonder goal, perfectly executed and it knocked all of the stuffing out of the fans, and the players.

The Albion fans were giving it the Boing Boing! now, and for the first time all night, they got behind their team, but in all truth, for 20 thousand, and with the opportunity to get back into the automatic spots, they created nothing more than a tepid, feeble atmosphere.

The game restarted, and we expected Albion to sit back now and protect what they had, but none of it, they pressed forward again, never gave us a chance to recover, and they looked the likelier team to score the second goal of the game. Nevertheless, Irvine replaced James O’Connor, who had a very hard working game, with Francis Jeffers, who never got with the pace of the game, despite a lovely first touch and layoff forming his first taste of the action.

Wednesday rallied, but it was to no avail, Albion saw it out and stood resolute, and the game was over.
             

             
My feeling leaving the ground was one of frustration and injustice, we’d played so well, repelled them for so long, and we’d been done by a moment of magic. To be frank, I was fucked off. Another defeat, another blank, and still in the bottom 3. We’d had it, in my mind, I was resigned to League One. We had played well, and lost, and that’s the sort of luck/fortune that gets you relegated when you’re down there fighting.

I’d calmed down a bit by the time I got home, and had a text off Jonny asking about the game, and as I answered him, I felt a bit more objective and balanced. We had played well, there were causes for optimism, 3 months ago West Brom had destroyed us by half time, now we’d kept with them for 80 odd minutes, that was progress. I’m pretty sure that we can’t afford many more zero point hauls though, if any at all. Two tough away games coming up, we have to be taking something out of both, as a minimum.

The lose or draw yellow shirt curse continues, look at our remaining away games that we’ll have to wear yellow for…Swansea, Preston, Coventry, QPR, Cardiff…only Middlesbrough will see us turn out in blue and white.

This curse needs to sling it’s hook, and sharpish.
             

             
Cheers
Stephen (Salop)
Owls Alive