Luck is a lady

Mansfield Town FC 0 - 4 Rochdale AFC

Journey:

As this was an away game - I am sure you are thinking that you will get away without hearing about Sudden roundabout.

How very wrong you are.

Once again the duplicitous roundabout elected to revert to it's chicane format meaning the access to Roch Valley Way and Edinburgh Way was blocked off - the direct route to the M62 was very firmly barred.

It was at this point that Mr. Turner's encyclopedic knowledge of back streets throughout the borough came into it's own. Granted, even with the assitance of 'Ross-Ross' FatNav it took 15 minutes to escape Rochdale's gravity and join the motorway.

The balance of the journey was fairly uneventful in terms of traffic and in a little over an hour and a half we were there.

The week had seen a great deal of debate over the starting line-up for the big trip. As the designated driver I was in. Mr. Keane, after his unfortunate enforced absence last week was the first name on the team sheet. Keane junior logically also made the squad. After some indifferent performances recently Mr. Turner was given a wild card inclusion (the FatNav intervention vindicated the managers selection to some degree).

As Mr. Mitchell had elected to spend more time with his family, we had an open seat. It seemed at one stage that Mr. McCabe would fill the empty berth - but - then I got word from the boss (Mrs. Eden-Maughan) Miss. Eden-Maughan would be making the trip as she had plans for Saturday afternoon/evening. This would prove to be a key selection.

Food:

£3.60 for two cokes! The young lady behind the counter could at least have worn a mask. I'm truly glad that I wasn't hungry - I just hadn't brought that much money with me.

Mr. Keane and Mr. Turner were clearly far more flush and opted for the burger. They remained mute on the price - but the consensus was that it was revolting.

And then there was the hot drinks...

Mr. Keane opted for tea - his verdict was that it could have been tea or coffee or possibly bovril. Mr. Turner opted for coffee. So disgusted was he with it - that he gave it to me. I had a mouthful and threw it on the floor.

Weather:

Windy, very windy. Due the position and layout of the ground it contrived to come from every direction at once. Due to the wind it was pretty chilly.

Ground:

Three nice modern stands somewhat marred by an abandoned stable on one side, enclosing a bowling green standard pitch.

The Dale support was truly remarkable - easily 400 if not more. Sharply contrasting with the Stag's entourage which amounted to little better than a light smattering scattered around two stands - for a home game.

We positioned our selves near the back of our allocated stand, behind the goal and had a brilliant view of procedings.

We also had the unexpected treat of being present for the World Stewards Convention. At any given moment, twenty and more stewards were allocated to the Dale fans. Which seems a little excessive considering that whilst strong in number the Dale throng were heavily populated by famillies with children and people of advanced years.

The excessive attention from the stewards provoked an instant and violent response from the Dale fans...

The steward in the pink and purple tie was subjected to 45 minutes of continual abuse - on the subject of his revolting cravatte. He tried zipping up his hi-viz jacket to hide the offending article - to no avail. He did not reappear for the second half.

Action:

Nervy. That was Rochdale at the start of this wind blown afternoon. The effect of recent weeks was clear as Dale felt their way into the game. The result was a fairly bits and pieces affair with Mansfield producing a few good chances.

As the minutes rolled by Dale seemed to get a grip on procedings and generated some good chances of their own - a rather lacklustre Howe going close from inside the six yard box.

Then on twenty seven minutes it became clear why Mansfield are where they are. The USS Howe revolved poderously and unhindered inside the box and delivered a fairly inoccuous low cross which was met by a bustling Jones (having just romped unimpeded into the Stag's area) and poked firmly home. 1-0 - the groan from the Mansfield fans was almost drowned out by hysterical Dale celebrations.

The half played out with Dale very much on top. The only further moment of note was the enforced departure of Stanton due to a head injury.

Half time was decorated by a group of semi-frozen girls performing gymnastics to house music. Very diverting - I'm sure.

Pretty much as I took my seat for the second half Dale had doubled their lead. St. Adam of Le Fondre turning home Rundle's cross. From this point onward a carnival atmosphere descended over the Dale stand. The celebrations were only briefly interupted on fifty five minutes to see Jonah trash another one home - and to watch a trickle of Stag's fans depart. On sixty seven minutes the USS Howe broke clear of the Mansfield defence, rounded the keeper and made it 4-0 - the trickle of Stag's fans leaving Field Mill became a flood.

Jones left the field on sixty nine minutes to a seemingly endless rendition of 'Living in a Jonah Wonderland' to be replaced by Basham. The balance of the half was played out with Dale pretty much constantly on the attack - to the strains of every standard the Dale support could wheel out.

There was a particularly moving rendition of 'Baldy Mourinho' directed at Mr. Hill who treated us to a brief display of is threadbare napper - before replacing his wooly hat to fend off the swirling gale.

£25 on diesel, £25 on tickets, £3.60 on drinks, £2.50 to park - 4 goals and 3 points: priceless.

Summary:

A blustery day serenaded by an annoucer who seemed to be having his head flushed down a toilet - worth every second.

After an indifferent start Dale got on with the job and simply brushed aside a pretty hopeless Stag's line-up. I gather pretty much right after the game the Mansfield board disengaged the services of Mr. Dearden.

The key to our success?

The late inclusion of Miss. Eden-Maughan. In the post match disection on the way back home we realised that in spite of watching the Dale on and off since she was 3 (she is now 11) - she has never seen the Dale lose a game. Needless to say - she will be a key component of future adventures.

Turner Watch:

I have already related the FatNav incident - which easily justified Mr. Turner's spot in my back seat. He also produced a wonderfully entertaining music based quiz which wiled the time away as we headed south. In a weekend marked by sporting upsets - you can add in that Mr. Keane defeated me in a 1980's music quiz - 43-40. Quite extraordinary...

8/03/08