Opium of the people

Football Association Challenge Trophy: First Round

Luton Town FC 3 - 3 Rochdale AFC

Journey

'The FA Cup is the opium of the people'

Karl Marx (probably)

Does it make you a bad person not to love the FA Cup?  I don't hate it as such - but consider these facts:

The very best that Dale can hope for is a 'decent run', make a few bob, maybe even get some TV time out of it and then end up as cannon fodder for one of the 'Big Four's' youth team's.  All in all - pretty unsatisfying.

OK the money will come in handy - it always comes in handy for the minnows of league football.  But to actually win the shiny, jug eared thing?  Do me a favour!  I have more chance of enjoying an evening of wine and romance with Sheryl Cole.

Add to all that Dale's last 'decent run' in the cup - going all the way to the fifth round in 2002/3 - coincided with a nearly catastrophic collapse in league form, that saw Dale flirting with life outside of the football league.  Perhaps you begin to see why I am less than taken in by 'the magic of the cup'. 

However, at 09:30 I was waiting outside the club shop at Spotland - waiting to take on passengers: my co-commentator for today's game, Mr. Culshaw, Dale's cub reporter, Mr. Jones, and a man identified simply as 'Russ'.  I would like to tell you more about 'Russ', but in over six hours in my car I don't think he spoke once.  However, he did cough up his petrol money without complaint - so in my book he could do pretty much as he liked.

So you are asking, why is he going to the game if he doesn't like the FA Cup?  There are three reasons:  the last game I saw was Accrington - which was dreadful - so I needed something to wash away that memory, after the horror show at Dean Court last season, I decided not to bother this time around - what a good call that turned out to be!  (I can count the number of 4-0 away wins for Dale that I have seen on the fingers of my tail)  and finally, I really like Kenilworth Road - it is in fact one of my favourite grounds - so when the chance came to have another gawp, I simply couldn't resist.

Nothing to do with any 'magic of the cup' nonsense.

The journey itself was unremarkable: M62, M60, M62, M6, M1 bingo!  Mr. Culshaw's Sat Nav, named Jane in honour of my now deceased Sat Nav, did Sat Navy things with quite efficiency - unlike her dearly departed, fruit bat aunty. 

On our brief lay over at Watford Gap we had the good fortune to meet a group of Macc Town fans who were on their way to Milton Keynes.  We talked about our seasons so far and the importance of getting a 'decent run' to bolster our respective club's slender finances.  After a few moments we bid our farewell's - one Macc fan quipping 'see you in the final then'.  What was deeply alarming was the complete lack of irony in his voice.  He really seemed to believe it.  What did I tell you: opium of the people...   

Weather

Pouring down in Rochdale, but as we left God's Country, the skies cleared and the sun came out.  For any readers from outside the North of England, it is easy to find God's Country on a map - it is the bit under the big cloud.

Food 

I came to Kenilworth Road last season.  It was Luton's last home game in the Football League.  From memory they put on a fantastic selection of sandwiches.  The new realities of the Blue Square Premier League seem to have bitten hard - specifically into the sandwiches - because there was none.  Plenty of free tea and coffee though - so not a complete disaster.

Ground

The hour or so before kick-off was taken up with myself and Mr. Culshaw arguing.  Arguing about Kenilworth Road.  Mr. Culshaw asserts that the afore mentioned ground is something of a dump which should probably be condemned - for the asbestos content of the rooves if nothing else.  Unusually for my esteemed commentary partner - he is of course completely wrong.  Kenilworth Road is brilliant.  Sure, no two bits of it match or for that matter join up.  OK the corporate boxes look like holiday chalets - actually, I think they probably once were holiday chalets.  But that is just the point! 

It sort of reminds me of my own efforts at DIY - not pretty, not exactly straight, probably would have benefitted from a bit more patience - but it does a job and it will almost certainly last forever.  Possibly.  I love the place.

News 

Night of the living dead.  Well, more like the walking wounded.  Kenny Arthur, Garry Jones, Will Buckley, Scott Wiseman and long term sick note Ciaran Toner have all been keeping the treatment table warm in recent days.  I got there specially early today - well, you just never know do you?

Fizz Swizz.  Keith Hill nominated for the League Manager of the Month award for October.  Said award is a silver plated replica of a bottle of the dental professions favourite soft drink.  Apart from being cursed, it is also devoid of any cola drink.  What a jip.

Permission denied.  Oldham have declined to let Mrs. Stevens little boy come out and play in the FAmous Cup.  Taking their lead, Delia Smith has decided that young Simon Whaley can't come out either.  However, to show that they aren't completely neurotic parents - Oldham have allowed little Chris O'Grady to come to the party today.

What a performance.  In recognition of the 4-0 demolition of Bournemouth last weekend, Dale have been awarded the League Two performance of the week award.  Quite how it will fit in the cabinet next to all the other silver wear is quite beyond me.

Action 

GK: Arthur

Def: Mc Ardle, Holness, Dawson, Kennedy(T)

Mid: Thompson, Kennedy(J), Jones, Rundle

For: Dagnall, O'Grady

Bench: Taberner, Brizell, Flynn, Manga, Buckley, Spencer, Higginbotham

There had been specualtion that 16 year old trainee Danny Taberner might have to deputise between the sticks due to Kenny Arthur's trick back - but some oblique quizzing of Dale's coaching staff revealed that he had been passed fit and would play.  Likewise for Gary Jones, and Will Buckley would start the game on the bench.

Two things would define the first 45 minutes:  Kenny Arthur's back and Rory Mc Ardle's legs.

It became pretty clear in the opening seconds that in spite of passing a fitness test, Kenny Arthur was far from fit.  He shuffled about his area with a pained stoop and delegated goal kicks to anyone who happened to be near enough.

Adam Newton and Kevin Gallen had clearly done their homework on Dale's right full-back.  Pace and manoeuvrability are not Rory's strongest suits.  Newton and Gallen whirled around him like a pair of cheetah's tormenting a wildebeest.

It took just four minutes for Dale's defensive mobility issues to be cruely exposed.

The Hatters Burgess picked the ball up on the halfway line, nutmegged Kennedy and drove onward.  A neat pass found Newton who undid the already dizzy Mc Ardle and slipped the ball forward to Gallen who launched a pacy cross into the box.  Arthur had just about enough manoeuverabilty to watch the ball fly into the back of his net from a close range Basham header.  1-0 Luton.

Dale rallied and good efforts from Dagnall, Jones, Rundle and O'Grady followed.  But on 21 minutes it all went wrong - again.  Burgess once again started the move from midfield, picking out Newton on the Luton left.  Mc Ardle was predictably undone and Arthur was predictably immobile.  Newton's cheeky chipped finish from twenty yards did the rest.  2-0 Luton.

Resplendent in their orange shirts, Luton were stroking the ball around like Cruyff's boys of '74.  So, it wasn't a great surprise when Basham popped up on the edge of the area on thirty minutes to hammer home another for the Hatters.  3-0 Luton.  

The fact that Dale managed to get to half time without further disaster was little short of magical - not the kind of 'magic of the cup' pundit's glibly witter on about - but magic nontheless.  The first half had been dreadful.  Dale could have no complaints.  They had been systematically 'done' by a very capable Luton eleven.

Had there been any opium going -  there would probably have been more than a few takers amongst the 355 travelling fans.  Dale were going out of the cup and anything to dull the pain of another 45 minutes of footballing purgatory would be more than welcome.

The half time chat in the commentary box was all about changes.  Kenny Arthur had barely made it off the pitch at the whistle - he would certainly be subbed for Taberner.  Mc Ardle had been pretty comprehensively worked out by Luton and would almost certainly be changed - probably for Flynn.  All good, logical stuff.  And all wrong.  There would be no changes.  Mr. Hill had another plan. A much simpler plan.  Holness swapped with Mc Ardle - and Dale would play the second period in the Luton half - thus protecting the hobbling Kenny Arthur.  Like I said - simple.

Things didn't start exactly to plan - Luton rattled the post in the opening seconds - but then Dale settled to their task.  O'Grady having a glorious chance on 50 minutes - but with the goal at his mercy, he could only fire over the bar.

Just before the hour Dale had a freekick on the edge of the Hatters area.  While everyone took their places O'Grady departed the field for Buckley and Rundle made way for Higginbotham.  Kennedy (T) delivered, Mc Ardle connected with his head, Dawson stuck out a leg and it was in!  3-1.

So, the trip home would be a little better.  But - there would be none of that 'magic of the cup' mumbo jumbo.  Oh no.  Dale were still going to lose and I would get to do my 'opium of the people' monologue (long version) all the way back to God's Country.         

Dale seemed to have other ideas though.  They kept the ball well away from Kenny Arthur and continued to create chances - the best of which being a driving run from Gary Jones concluding with a thumping drive, which was well saved by Gore who then leapt back to his feet to parry Will Buckley's follow up. 

Dale were playing really well by now - but Luton were defending in depth and with the confidence a two goal lead brings.  As the minutes slipped by I was preparing an extra 'long version' - which would probably conclude with something about being free to concentrate on the league.

With just over five minutes left, Tom Kennedy overlapped on the left and flashed a cross into the area where young Joe Thompson stooped to head the ball past a wrong footed Gore.  3-2.

Erm...  Surely not.  That 'magic' stuff is just for the hopelesly deluded.  Not me - 'long version' it is.

The minutes and then the seconds began to drain away - Dale pushed hard for an equaliser - but the Hatters were having none of it.  A fistful of great chances came and went and the 90th minute duly arrived.  No 'magic' here - no sir.

...and then Buckley broke forward down the left, neatly laying the ball off to Jones who charged to the byline and unleashed a pin-point cross onto the head of the only Dale player in the box - young Joe Thompson.  From just a couple of yards out, he couldn't miss.  3-3!

355 Dale fans went berserk behind the goal Joe had just scored in.  Myself, Mr. Culshaw and Mr. Jones jumped up, fists aloft, screaming - and then remembered just exactly where we were.  The commentary box is in the middle of the main stand, enclosed by a low wall.  As one man, we glanced backwards to see 1000 or so stoney Lutonian faces.  As one man, we quietly slipped back behind the safety of our wall.

Four minutes of added time - but 3-3 it remained.

Speak Your Brains

Your cast for today: Myself, Mr. Culshaw, Mr. Jones and Russ

As we drove back north we got word that Keith Hill had missed out on the cursed Manager of the Month award.  That was a relief.

Mr. Culshaw spent a good deal of the trip home trying to find out when the draw for the second round would be - using his fancy voice recognising Google search thingy.  In the end he didn't find out - mostly due to the inability of the Google thingy to recognise what he was saying.  For a giggle he asked it to search for 'John and Edward'.  It came back with a list of German Airports. 

Today was an amazing performance.  Amazingly bad in the first half, amazingly good in the second.  By rights, the game was over at half time - Dale were down and out.  The decision not to make changes was brave but incredibly risky.  Had things gone differently I am sure Mr. Hill would have been roundly criticized.  As it turned out it was pure genius.

Those who habitually condemn Joe Thompson for one reason or another all got free pie for their tea.  Humble pie.

Have I changed my mind about the FA Cup?  Not really.  One of the Big Four will almost certainly win it,  Dale will definitely not win it.  The FA Cup is still a distraction from the important business of escaping English football's bottom rung.  But, Dale do have a home replay - which will bring in some much needed cash and maybe a big name tie to follow if they see off Luton second time around.  All that said, when that third goal went in - just for a minute or two I really did believe Rochdale could go all the way to Wembley.  Like I said, opium of the people - even I got a bit giddy - just for a little while anyway.

Sing!

Luton Town FC 1 - 1 Rochdale AFC

Journey:

The last away game of the season (play-off’s notwithstanding) and a change to the advertised programme. Today I was going to be a passenger.

The unwelcome attentions of a security van in midweek had rendered the medium sized Audi unfit for service – so at 09:30 hrs I found myself climbing into the medium sized Seat of Mr. Brookes.

Having covered so many miles this season, I have become rather used to having things ‘just so’. However, today my viciously maligned I-Pod would be taking a well earned rest and the psychologist’s dream that is Jane, my SatNav, would also be able to pop her feet up. It all just felt slightly uncomfortable – I have become a creature of habit – before I know it will own a pair of string-back driving gloves and a tweed hat.

Jane’s day of rest didn’t mean we would be without technology based route planning though. Mr. Culshaw has invested in a SatNav of his own. She is the same model as Jane, although being newer, comes in a more streamlined case.

Younger - and - slimmer! It is probably best that Jane wasn’t there – I would have never heard the end of it. To make matters worse, Mr. Culshaw has named his SatNav as well. He has named her, Jane. What have I started?

With Mr. Brookes at the helm and with Mr. Ashworth rounding out the party we headed for the motorway. M62, M60, M62, M6, M1, an assortment of dual carriage ways in Bedfordshire, the thoroughly cosmopolitan Luton High Street – and we arrived at Kenilworth Road – and then walked miles through narrow ginnel’s to get into the ground because the ‘main entrance’ does not lead to the press area.

On the journey I realised something. Long car journeys, as a passenger, are boring. Without something – like driving – to focus on, there is nothing to do. I even missed ‘Classic’ Jane’s random bonging – although ‘Pretender’ Jane did try to compensate – and perhaps in some way pay tribute to her batty relative – by switching herself off for no reason at all. This is how it begins Mr. Culshaw, this is how it begins…

Weather:

Having started under clear skies in god’s country we rapidly found ourselves in the middle of a torrential rain storm. The further south we went, the worse it got. Just as I began to think my decision not to bother with a coat was going to haunt me – slightly north of Luton, the leaden clouds parted and the sun came out.

Food:

I did inspect the hog roast which was being offered under one of the stands with speculative interest – before deciding against it. I’m not one for the semi-annual health panic that some brand of flu or other generates – but, well, y’know – swine flu!

Ground:

Having had time to size the place up properly – my first observation was that it doesn’t look like something that was built by human hands – it looks like something that grew.

Kenilworth Road looks like it germinated in the middle of some terraced houses and then slowly overwhelmed them – many of the entrances to the ground seem to go through the adjoining houses. No two areas of the ground match – no two rooves line up – the corporate area is a row of what appear to be holiday chalet’s.

Strange, chaotic, wonderful.

Somewhere in the midst of all this were 400 of the Rochdale faithful. Judging from their generally muted performance today, they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing either.

Action:

If I was a Luton fan, a season which had delivered a mid-table finish and a trip to Wembley with some silver ware to show for it wouldn’t seem at all bad.

Then deduct 30 points - and it seems like a waking nightmare.

Due to the financial mis-doings of directors past, a club who were rubbing shoulders with Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool and Arsenal in my lifetime find themselves planning for life in the Football Conference. Luton were confirmed as relegated last week.

With little to play for but pride, the Luton faithful turned out in droves to watch the Hatters final home game in the Football League. 7000+ according to the man on the tannoy. I had expected long faces and an atmosphere akin to a morgue – but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

People glibly talk about ‘Dunkirk Spirit’ all the time – that very British way of smiling into the face of adversity and ‘getting on with it’. I saw it in spades at Kenilworth Road today. No wrath, no angst, no tears – most of the Luton fans I saw looked like they were going to a church picnic – grinning and joking as they went. Perhaps they should rename it Luton Spirit?

Your team for today: Fielding in goal. Ramsden, McArdle, Stanton & Kennedy at the back. Keltie and Toner in midfield – along with, Gary Jones! The second biggest cheer of the day from the Rochdale fans was reserved for the arrival of Jones on the pitch. Boy have we missed him. LeFondre, Thorpe and Dagnall upfront.

4-3-3 then. Somewhere in Mr. Hill’s office I imagine there is a book called ‘Advanced Association Football Formations – Theory and Practice’ (by Major (ret) Horace Wendell-Smethurst – published 1904) – or something like that. I would like to ask that whenever Mr. Flitcroft see’s the aforementioned Rochdale manager reaching for it – he smacks his hand and says, ‘NO! BURNY!’.

Luton lined up 4-4-2 and proceeded to carve Dale apart. The three man midfield just didn’t work – Jones looked unfit, which isn’t really a surprise, Keltie had forgotten how to make a pass or a tackle and Toner was running around like a lunatic trying to shore up the over pressurized defence. Consequently the front three – Thorpe central, LeFondre wide left and Dagnall wide right were little better than spectators.

On the other hand, Luton played with a freedom and fluidity which comes of already knowing your fate. Their passing was quick and instinctive. There wingers had pace and little fear. Their front-men were wily and alert.

With 7000 home fans singing their hearts out and cheering almost every Luton touch – you could understand why. The stand that Mr. Culshaw and I were commentating from was physically vibrating as the home fans stamped their feet and roared their team on.

All that said, somehow, Dale had managed to keep the scoreline at 0-0 – perhaps if they could struggle on to half time. a re-think might be possible.

Think again…

Around the half hour mark the pressure finally told. With the ball already cleared out of the area, Stanton decided to shove Chris Martin in the back, in the box, just yards from today’s official, Mr. Linnington. Penalty. Tom Craddock didn’t waste the opportunity. 1-0 Luton.

Fortunately, no more damage was done and when Mr. Linnington indicated the interval, 1-0 it remained.

This was going very, very wrong. Dale were not guaranteed play-off football as things stood – they still needed another point to make the matter certain. On the evidence so far it seemed a distant possibility.

Suitably fortified with as many free sandwiches as I could grab in the press room, I trudged back to the commentary area thinking big, gloomy thoughts. Automatic promotion – gone, and now the play-off’s in doubt as well.

Perhaps Mr. Flitcroft had intervened when Mr. Hill reached for Major (ret). Wendell-Smethurst’s tombe again at half time – because when they returned to the field, Dale lined up 4-4-2. The lacklustre Keltie was retired from the action in favour of Rundle and Dagnall, who had seemed Dale’s best player in the first period, also found himself replaced - by Thompson.

The effect was immediate. Luton suddenly didn’t have all the time in the world and Dale had pace and width. LeFondre almost making the most of a Rundle cross early on, which in the end he could only divert wide.

Minutes later Dale were back in the game. Great tenacity from Thompson delivered a cross from the right which Thorpe looked favourite to latch onto – until he was shoved out of the way by a Luton defender, just inside the area. The Hatters defence stopped as a man and looked sheepishly at Mr. Linnington – who was indicating play on.

The instant of delay proved critical. The ball made it’s way to Rundle, who cut inside and finding the Luton defence playing musical statues, had only Dean Brill in the Hatters net to negotiate. A cheeky close range tap did the rest. 1-1!

For the next twenty minutes or so, Dale had a serious effort at taking all three points back north. Efforts from Thorpe and LeFondre could have easily put Rochdale in the lead – but poor finishing, bad luck and a couple of excellent saves from Dean Brill meant that Dale did not capitalise.

With a point seemingly secure, Dale relaxed. Having put up a decent display in front of their fans, Luton seemed content to let them. The game meandered gently towards the final whistle.

The tannoy man reminded people not to run on the pitch - about thirty times. The stewards and then the Police formed a cordon around the playing area. A conga broke out behind me. Someone in the corporate holiday chalet’s unfurled a home made banner behind Mick Harford, the Luton manager, which read ‘LUTON LEGEND’ with a large arrow pointing to Mr. Harford. All the while the Luton fans sang.

Mr. Linnington blew his whistle. No one ran on the pitch. The home fans waved their banners, sang, cheered and clapped as the Luton players made a lap of the field.

Along with the numerous Dale fans who had stayed behind, I clapped to.

Summary:

Rundle’s goal proved to be enough to secure Dale a second successive crack at the play-off’s. The first half was poor – the second half, after the introduction of Rundle and Thompson, was excellent. It was also massively encouraging to see an admittedly tired looking Gary Jones play for 90 minutes.

In other news, I got a text from Mr Keane relating that the Mighty Yellows had secured another victory – 3 goals to 2 - to force a championship play-off with Chadderton. I gather that Keane jnr. made a number of brave saves on the way to victory – one of which had every Dad on the touchline wincing in sympathy.

So, play-off’s for both of our featured teams. What a season! I can feel a song coming on

Turner Watch:

Mr. Turner has been sneezing a lot this week – and has developed the ability to find truffle’s by smell alone. Probably nothing to worry about. Probably…

25/04/09