Typical

Rochdale AFC 1 - 1 Morecambe FC

Journey:

Night games at Spotland are brilliant. The glare of the floodlights, the inky black of the sky, the seductive waft of warm pies and the un-natural green-ness of the turf. I can't quite explain why - but bathed in the glow of several thousand volts of artificial illumination - Spotland takes on an unreal, magical quality.

To the casual observer or a hard bitten away fan, Spotland probably just looks like a selection of reasonably serviceable stands arranged around a patch of well mowed grass. I pity them.

Usually I am seething quietly in traffic on Roch Valley Way with ten minutes to go before kick off. But not tonight. I was rolling up Sandy Lane just after 7pm.

To take advantage of the school half term holidays Rochdale had laid on 'Kid for a quid' night. I had managed to tempt Lady Luck away from My Space, Bebo and Instant Messenger on the basis that her associate Miss. Nolan could come as well. At £1 per head, even I couldn't argue.

The early start was due to the fact that the 'Kid for a quid' offer required you to buy a ticket before going through the turnstiles. I arrived at the ticket office at 7.15pm. The queue was huge. As I waited patiently for my turn I encountered a fine old British tradition:

'Typical!'

This is a uniquely British view of the world. Any inconvenience - large or small - can be explained away by uttering the magic word. For example:-

'It's raining! - typical'.

'I have to wait to get my ticket for the game! - typical'.

'The world economy is collapsing! - typical'.

In a single word it conveys that very British sense that not only is the whole world against you - but that, in some way, you knew that you were earmarked for misfortune anyway. With Rochdale fans - this feeling is perhaps slightly more acute than normal.

Weather:

Cool and still.

Food:

With over 3000 Dale fans in Spotland tonight there was the likely danger that the food could run out. So I made my visit to the Sandy Lane Patisserie early. Even so, there was only one meat and potato left - which being a good parent and concerned with the the nutrition of my offspring - I gave to Lady Luck. I ended up with a cheese pie... and no, I'm not going to do the Peter Kay thing.

Alarmingly, Miss. Nolan announced that she doesn't like pie - so I got her a pasty.

Away Support:

100 perhaps 150. Enthusiastic throughout and held a tune pretty well to.

That said, they were drowned out in the most part by the sizeable Rochdale contingent. 'Kid for a quid' had clearly done it's work. In addition to the swolen ranks of the under 16's elsewhere in Spotland, our own little patch of the Sandy had a few extra guests tonight. I had brought Lady Luck and Miss Nolan. Mr. Keane had brought both Mr. Keane snr. and Keane jnr. Mr. Mitchell had brought Mrs. Mitchell and his father in law, Geoff. It was shoulder to shoulder on the Sandy tonight.

Action:

Rochdale would make one change from what is emerging as Mr. Hill's favoured line up tonight. Nathan Stanton had turned an ankle in training between Saturday and today and would be replaced by Simon Ramsden at centre half. A fully recovered Lee Thorpe would take Ramsden's place on the bench.

The phrase 'a la mode' around Spotland these days is 'footballed to death'. As Mr. Swarbrick of Lancashire got things underway, it seemed another execution was in the offing.

There was none of the inconclusiveness of the opening minutes on Saturday. Rochdale went straight for the throat. Dagnall, Thompson, Adams and Buckley tore into a rather shellshocked Morecambe rear guard with apparent impunity.

The game unfolded almost exclusively in the Eric's half, the corner count rose and the infrequent forays forward from Morecambe were clinically extinguished by the Dale back four - who would then act as the spring board for another wave of pillage in the Morecambe half.

But here's the thing. It was still 0-0. Rattled Morecambe may have been but they never fell apart. Genuine attempts at goal from Rochdale were few as Morecambe threw everything they had in the path of the Rochdale advance. The best effort being a thumping drive from Dagnall which having beaten Roche in the Eric's goal, hit the inside of the post and then through some eccentric brand of physics the ball eschewed crossing the line and made it's way back into play.

Half time.

As Golden Gamble held the crowd spellbound I had a moment or two to speak to Miss. Nolan. Aside from her irrational dislike of pies, today marked a double first for her. Not only was it the first time she had seen Rochdale play - but it was also the first time she had been to a football match.

I asked her what she thought of her experience so far? She told me that Rochdale definitely had the better kit. High praise indeed.

Rochdale began the second half just as they had ended the first. Wave after wave of Dale attacks broke over the Morecambe sea wall. After five minutes all the 'footballing' paid off.

A cross from Adams, headed on by Thompson fell to the feet of Buckley. The Shaker Maker steadied himself, weighed up the options and then smashed the ball past Roche into the far, bottom corner. 1-0 Dale!

Here we go then! Another three points coming our way. Maybe bang in two or three more - just for the look of things - and job done.

That is indeed how it looked. Dale continued to swarm all over the Morecambe defences. Toner delivered a trade mark thunderbolt which was too hot for Roche to take at the first attempt.

 Thorpe - who had replaced Dagnall on 72 - appeared to have put the ball over the line only for a scrambling Roche to hook it back into play (this little episode did have a touch of the comic about it - not only did all the Dale fans start celebrating - but the 'we've just scored' music (Chelsea Dagger - The Fratelli's) blasted out over the tannoy, only to be abruptly stopped). Jones and Adams also had excellent chances to bag the elusive second goal. But it just didn't happen.

Quite what happened next still has me scratching my head. Morecambe introduced Dale old boy USS Howe around the 70 minute mark - who put himself about in his own unique style. Perhaps Howe's arrival sowed confusion in the Dale rearguard, perhaps Rochdale had decided to protect their lead for the balance of the tie, perhaps they had just worn themselves out with all of the 'footballing'. But they suddenly looked a bit short of ideas.

Morecambe weren't.

USS Howe created chaos in the Rochdale ranks. Shouts for penalties and Morecambe's first serious shots on goal followed. Deep into injury time the Eric's won a corner - Roche ran the length of the field to join in. The corner itself was parried - but only as far as a Morecambe shirt who headed it back into the area. With a comedy of errors going on all round him, Morecambe's Twiss found himself with the fairly straightforward task of poking the ball past a stranded Fielding and into the net. 1-1.

Summary:

Rochdale did football someone to death tonight. Unfortunately, it was themselves.

So much posession, so many chances and then with ten minutes left - so little idea.

This could have been, should have been a convincing win against a good but by no means outstanding Morecambe side. Instead we have a single point and slide to fifth in the table. By no means a disaster, but with high flying Brentford visiting on Saturday there is definitely some work to do.

As I trudged back to the car through the throng of Rochdale fans, with Lady Luck and Miss. Nolan in tow, I heard one word more than any other. I think you can guess which one.

Turner Watch:

Having recovered from his disappointment over the BAFTA's, he is pinning his hopes on the Brit Awards.

17/2/09