Devon & Hell

Exeter City FC 4 - 1 Rochdale AFC

Journey:

At some point in everyone's life they will make a plan which involves picking someone up at an ungodly hour of a Saturday morning.

This morning was my turn.

Picture the scene. 07:45 hrs. Milnrow. Me standing on the sodden lawn outside the abode of Mr. Turner. By this stage I had already tried knocking and ringing - no response. I tried another knock, another phone call - still nothing. Bang on window, another phone call - nothing. Boot door, yet another phone call - zip. I suspected I knew the reason.

Last night's gathering of the Littleborough Debating and Choral Society had been little short of shambolic. Myself, Mr. Keane and Mr. Jones had elected to patronise the friendly hostelry's of Sudden - Mr. Turner on the other hand had decided to lead a splinter group towards the flesh pots of the town centre. A disaster waiting to happen.

At 08:05, with the knowledge that I had a further pick-up to make, I decided to leave Mr. Turner to his slumber. At which point he blundered out of his front door.

I could waste a lot of time recounting the lengthy explanation he offered. However, in the interests of brevity - he had finally got in at 5 am. Having folded the incapacitated and largely incoherent Mr. Turner into my front seat - I set off for Spotland for the second collection of the day.

Last week I had made my debut as a match commentator on hospital radio. In the course of the week I had received literaly no letters from delighted listeners - not one. (Then again, I hadn't received any hate mail either - which made a pleasant change from a normal week I can assure you.) Considering this and my footballing cliche-athon last Saturday, I was a little surprised when Mr. Culshaw asked if I would mind joining him again this week.

At 08:30 I rolled up Pearl Street to be greeted by Mr. Culshaw and a guest. Mike Brookes. Mr. Culshaw had mentioned that Dale's Media Officer would be joining us. However, it was still something of a surprise to meet him in person, let alone have him occupying the back seat of my car. Mike Brookes is one of very few people to justly carry the title 'Dale legend'. A jounalist and broadcaster who has invested a good portion of his carreer promoting our humble little club. Today he would be providing the commentary for the official Rochdale website. Mr. Keane refers to him simply as 'Rochdale royalty'.

With my travelling companions all now safely installed we pushed on towards the motorway network and into the teeth of a swirling tempest.

M62, M6 - a diversion onto the M6 Toll to avoid the closure of the M6 near Birmingham - M42, M5.

Due to the rather strong smell of stale beer coming off Mr. Turner we made an enforced pit-stop south of Birmingham to pick up air freshener; and in spite of a long delay near junction 11 of the M5 due to an accident we arrived at St. James' Park at 13:40.

No issues with parking today - courtesy of Mr. Brookes reserved space. A quick walk accross the carpark to the stadium - in via the media entrance - collected my press pass (with my name on and everything!) and sauntered over to the press box trying to affect an air of a man who really is meant to be there.

Weather:

Cold and wet in Rochdale, building to what would have counted as a tropical storm - but for the frigid temperature - as we pushed southwards. As we approached Exeter the rain finally abated and as the game was kicking off, the sun broke through. Then it went dark.

Food:

Considering I was an official representative of the journalistic fraternity today - it may come as something of a surprise to find me in the pie queue in the away end. But that is where fate put me - more on this later.

Once again I fell foul of the 'no meat and potato pie' rule which seems to have been enforced accross the barbarous south.

'No poys moy luvver - we gots parstees thow'. A parstee/pasty it was then.

Where to begin... floury, dry, oversalted - horrible. I couldn't even fall back on the coffee I had bought to help bolt it down. The land of cream tea's had delivered me a cup of bitter mud which turned out to have rotten milk in it. One mouthful sealed it's fate. Floor.

Incidentally. Is a Cornish pasty bought in Devon still a Cornish pasty? Or is it a Devon pasty? Or in this particular case, is it - revolting, overpriced rubbish?

Ground:

Have you ever wondered who those people are who wander around the edge of the pitch before the game starts? You know the ones I mean - tend to look a bit self-important, although don't seem to be doing that much.

Today that was me.

I was making my way to the commentary box - which along with the changing rooms is not actually located in the shiny new main stand. They are in the rather unattractive Victorian era stand facing it.

St. James' Park is in truth a bit of an odd one. The afore mentioned shiny new main stand, an equally shiny and new terrace at one end; steeply raked and covered, the gothic horror which houses the press box (easily the worst stand I have seen this year - Grimsby and Morecambe, please forgive me) and the away end which is a low, open concrete terrace.

Following in the wake of Mr. Culshaw I had a brief meeting with Keith Hill. As Mr. Culshaw chatted with the Dale manager I remembered some useful advice:

'Better to remain silent and appear an idiot - rather than open your mouth and remove any doubt'.

Having grinned stupidly at Mr. Hill for a few minutes we headed for the press box. Things were about to take a serious downturn. The fact that the press area was a dead fly encrusted dump was a concern - but more worryingly none of the telephone lines in the box worked. No phone lines means no commentary.

Mr. Brookes made a string of increasingly angry calls on his mobile. Officials were summoned. Officials arrived. Voices were raised. Limp apologies were made. The telephone lines remained inert.

No commentary today.

Somewhat disappointed, I sloped off into the away end and joined Mr. Turner.

Action:

Before my retreat from the press-box I had taken the liberty of taking a team sheet with me. So here is the news:

Following a set-back during training this week, Jones would take no part today. Stanton would be suspended after collecting a fifth yellow card last weekend. Thorpe's continuing back problems would also rule him out.

Jon Shaw would make a rare start upfront for Dale, Keltie would retain his place in central midfield, controversially Ramsden got the nod over Holness in central defence and Wiseman would return to the right full-back berth.

After what had been a lumpen, dreary performance against Bournemouth - it was pleasing to see Dale start with a bit of sparkle. The opening fifteen minutes saw Rochdale rack up a fistfull of excellent chances to draw first blood - the best of them going to Shaw who having rounded Jones in the Grecians goal could only drill the ball wide of the post.

All very encouraging.

However, having riden the initial storm Exeter produced an attack of their own. A driving run down the Grecians right saw the ball whipped into the near post where it collected a wicked deflection from McArdle - quite how Russell managed to beat it away from the goal is beyond me - however, a quick thinking Steve Basham pounced on the loose ball and poked it home from five yards. 1-0 Exeter.

This was an unfortunate development. But Dale reapplied themselves well. There was no sense of panic. Rochdale had been behind many times this season and had almost always recovered the situation. The following fifteen minutes saw Dale continue to generate chances, only solid defensive work from the Grecians allowed them to retain their slender advantage.

...and then we entered the gates of hell.

A speculative ball forward saw Ryan Harley in space and bearing down on the Rochdale goal. Quick thinking and quicker feet allowed Wiseman to intercept the danger - getting goalside of Harley he took ball of the Exeter frontman's toe and shaped to clear it up field. I was in the process of applauding a brilliant saving tackle - when I heard the whistle go. Mr. Phillips was pointing to the penalty spot.

Quite what he saw which upset him so much was unclear. However, the consequences were not. A straight red card for Wiseman and a cooly converted penalty by Basham. 2-0 Exeter.

Dale re-shuffled themselves and the half played out without further incident.

During the interval news filtered through of another sending off. As the players left the field Mr. Brookes had gone to the tunnel to get some reaction from Mr. Hill. The details are a little unclear from this point onwards - but it appears that Mr. Brookes may have questioned Mr. Phillips decision making process as he was leaving the field. Furthermore it is alleged that Mr. Brookes may have gone so far as to suggest that Mr. Phillips may not be a man of unquestionable integrity. For his trouble he was ejected from the ground.

Like many people I work for a living. If I get something horribly wrong at work I don't find it unresonable that people may question me about my mistake. The only person I am aware of whom is not subject to this kind of scrutiny is the Pope. To the best of my understanding - and I have checked this - Papal infalibilty does not extend to League Two match officials.

2-0 down and with only ten men. Not ideal. Under the circumstances Mr. Hill had little option but to make changes. Buckley and Rundle were withdrawn from the action - Holness and Dagnall would replace them. Dale would line up in a 3-3-3 formation for the second period. Pretty aggressive - but under the circumstances - probably the best option.

It was clear that Rochdale were looking for an early breakthrough. But in spite of the combined firepower of Dagnall, Shaw and LeFondre - and later McEvilly - a goal would not come. At the other end things were pretty desperate. Exeter rolled forward at will and produced opportunity after opportunity to extend their lead - only inept finishing kept the scoreline at 2-0.

Around the eighty minute mark Dagnall was punched in the face by Seaborne in the Exeter area - surely a penalty! Well apparently not - and far be it for me to question his holiness Mr. Phillips who was stood not more than ten feet from the incident. Regrettably in the ensuing confusion McAllister ran the ball the length of the field and slotted it past an unprotected Russell. 3-0.

Three minutes later McAllister popped up again to make it 4-0.

In the dying seconds Shaw was dragged to the ground by Seaborne in the Grecians area. What might happen next was anybody's guess - personally I had my money on Shaw being excommunicated - therefore imagine my surprise when the Bishop of Rome granted a spot kick.

Keltie performed the last rites. 4-1.

Moments later the final whistle blew. I don't think I have ever been so relieved.

Summary:

All in all a rubbish day. Everything that could go wrong - went wrong. A decent start from Rochdale - an unfortunate early concession followed by an outrageous penalty decision and a sending off for Wiseman. From here there was precious little chance that Dale would come away with anything.

Turner Watch:

My car is now pervaded by the lurid smell or stale beer and air freshener - I doubt I will ever get it out. I think it has got into the upholstery.

20/12/08