I can see clearly now the smog has gone!
Posted on March 14th, 2010 | 62 Comments |
OK, so it was a derby and a scrappy affair isn’t unusual so what was I expecting? Not much to be honest, I’m just being facetious. And while I’m being honest, some of Boro’s play yesterday was actually quite tidy and Strachan has got them playing in the right way. In contrast, there wasn’t a lot to write home about from a black and white perspective in terms of the aesthetics. And yet, what we did see was yet another demonstration that we are almost inevitably going up.
That sounds a bit premature? I would probaby have agreed a few games ago but I’ve seen enough of late to suggest the ‘fat lady’ will be singing soon enough. It’s not about over-confidence or a lack of humility but the way we snatched a draw was enough to convince me that we have enough to make it happen. That it wasn’t pretty to watch is a moot point. Winners don’t always win pretty, that’s a given. And while there were some frustrating moments and Boro toyed with us at times, once again we had enough to get something out of the game.
Don’t get me wrong, after a 10am start and 8 pints of John Smiths, you might be able to question my summary but I felt quite lucid on the whole. That was probably down to my good planning, and a hearty big breakfast at the Three Squares greasy spoon in Darlington. And what a tremendous way to start the day as the women behind the counter asked if I was sitting in or taking out. Surveying the gloomy interior I spotted a spare table and opted for ‘sit-in’.
“You’ll have to go to the other counter love”.
The ‘other counter’ being two feet to my left on the other side of the till. Having ordered a cliched Full-English, I heard the first woman and obviously top dog, ask the new woman serving me:
“Does that breakfast want toast”?, this despite the fact she was standing not two yards from me.
“Do you want toast with that?”.
“Yes please,” answered the ‘breakfast’.
“Yes, toast with that Maureen!”, she shouted to the woman standing right next to her.
Amused by the banter and satiated by my plate of saturated fats, I headed off to Hogan’s Bar to meet the lads. And having beaten the 10.30am rush we got a decent seat as the bar began to fill up with Geordies tripping out of the train station. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t get served so a move to Speedwells down the road was as welcome as it was inevitable. And several more beers and a few games of Killer later and yours truly was slightly worse for wear but also a few quid up, despite genuinely declaring myself as ‘sh*te at pool’…
When the 8-seater taxi turned up to take us to the game and the driver couldn’t get the side door shut, it looked like things might go a bit pear-shaped. But with a little bit of willing, we managed to shut it, though the kid sitting next to it made sure he was well strapped in. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the same success when she dropped us off on the A19 and bless her, she looked a little concerned when the door slid open as she drove off into the traffic.
Funnily enough, it was the first time I’d been to the Riverside but acutely aware of prior blood-spilling at games at Ayresome Park, I was thankful that the group I was with were pretty reserved, you know just in case we got a shoeing. The ground itself is similar to many other out-of-town-modern-day stadia and there’s nothing remarkable about it. The atmosphere, however, as expected was a little more vibrant than usual, by all accounts.
Once inside, the inevitable “empty seats” was getting an airing, as big chunks of red plastic could be seen in the home ends. To be fair, there was a bit of room in our end so whether those lads were locked up or ‘smogged’, I don’t know. For those that made it, there was universal disappointment that Enrique hadn’t made the first eleven, though his ‘warm-up’ on the touchline was met with rapturous applause. The absence of Williamson was also worrying but even then you sensed a confidence amongst the travelling numbers.
So it came as little surprise, when Lovenkrands gave us the lead after 16 minutes, and sent the Mags dancing down the aisles. The first half though was otherwise dominated by a vibrant and capable Boro side, which Strachan has gelled well. And their well-worked equaliser was nothing more than they deserved. Barry Robson scoring to ultimately cap off a combative display that was worthy of Man of the Match and actually had me thinking of a young Bryan Robson.
The quality of football from those in black and white hardly improved in the second half and when McDonald, another who impressed in Boro colours, scored a cheeky number at the back post to put the Smogs in front it was in keeping with the play. When Hughton brough Butt on, I genuinely couldn’t see where another goal would come from and yet lo and behold, up pops Carroll with another crucial equaliser out of nowhere to send us all beserk.
That was really all there was left to talk about on the pitch and so the smoggies entertained themselves with a ‘Trophy Virgins’ flag that was creatively drawn with an arrow pointing at those in black and white. And when we responded with a rendition of “We’ll meet again”, and the ref blew for full-time with the spoils shared, you suspected that everyone would go home happy and in decent mood. But that didn’t stop the local constabulary treating the occasion like something out of the 70/80s and holding us back with threats off batons and horses. One of which nearly gave me a good old hoof to the head. Apparently there was some bother after I’d legged it to the station but whether that was inevitable or partly down to officers acting like something out of the Football Factory, who knows?
Finally allowed to get my train home, I reflected on the day’s events and the season in general. Boro isn’t pretty, that draw wasn’t pretty but we’re sitting pretty at the top of the table and I just genuinely can’t see it turning ugly. So whadayagannadee?
NUFCBlog Author: bowburnmag
bowburnmag has written 234 articles on this blog.
Good article, Bbm.