Boring, boring Watford

Watford v Ipswich Town
Saturday 30th August

I shared the journey to Watford Junction with Trevor and Kasey, who’d stayed at ours Friday and were heading back after 26 hours of games and play. On the train, my niece was quieter but as stuck to her father as ever. A fortnight previously we’d walked along the canal to Camden but, though it was close Friday, it was typically grey and we curtailed the same trip. The sun was out for the football though, even at the later kick-off time of 5.20.
I said temporary goodbyes and cycled to Kerry’s to walk with Joss in my sweaty Blissett t-shirt and as we neared the stadium we heard a cheer that could only have been for a goal for the visitors and so it proved. The guy behind us, who asked me Tuesday to look out for Fender valves in Tokyo when I told him I was going to Japan, told us that Poom had messed up a clearance kick and the attacker whose feet the ball landed at capitalised. I asked if he knew the Carling Cup draw and informed him that we had West Ham home, which Joss had guessed when I said it was a Premiership team.
The Horns looked bright for the first ten minutes we saw but Tamas Priskin seemed off the pace (again). Ipswich played some nice stuff though and looked like they could add another but Poom was making up for his earlier error. John Harley had a great diving header rebound off the post but as the Tractor Boys taunted us with the usual numbers, the fans were having a hard time getting behind the team until after half-time when they were attacking the Rookery end. The second half saw the Golden Boys with renewed vigour and momentum. John Joe O'Toole had come on for the championship debutting defender Joprdan Parkesand provided the attacking edge that comes along with his (sometimes) headless chicken running.
It was fifteen minutes before the energy paid off and John Eustace headed in from a corner. Watford continued to pile on the pressure and even when Jobi McAnuff hit the bar from a few yards off, I remained optimistic. I was right to be so. McAnuff had another shot parried with minutes left and JJ was there to head in the rebound, give us 3 points, and leave us eighth in the league.

Carling relief

Watford v Darlington (Carling Cup 2nd Round)
Tuesday 26th August

Realised at a Euston bike-stand that I’d left my keys at home; boarded a train 25 mins later that was cancelled after another 10; squeezed onto a second train which was also cancelled (lost my earphone plastic); had to sort out the fact that Joss’ season ticket hadn’t loaded the payment. We hadn’t missed much when we got in though. Watford were shooting towards us in the Rookery and Tamas Priskin did have a chance not long later. As against Bristol Rovers in the first round, the team was a combination of the young and the bloodied. Lewis Young started and showed potential but Tamas Priskin and Will Hoskins up front together only once produced a move that impressed: a touch and flick that came to nothing.
Young had a shot prevented from crossing the line by Hoskins but Damien Francis scored not long afterwards and we were more concerned with half-time breaks than our lack of domination against a League Two side with two points in three games (a mere 28 more than our erstwhile rivals). There were warning signs as the second half dragged, not least Scott Loach making a very good save low to his left. It was how the evening started, however, that means I could have predicted an injry-time equaliser and extra time. Penalties loomed until substitute John Joe O’Toole netted to relieved cheers with minutes left.

Inflatable Kangaroos

Olympic Closing Ceremony
Sunday 24th August

I am no connoisseur of Olympic ceremony history but as the last of the firework smoke above the Bird’s Nest diffused effortlessly into Beijing’s notorious air, London’s contribution hung around like a wet fart. The BBC voice described the eight minute London 2012 section as “fun”, “quirky”, “energetic, youthful and entertaining”, only the second of which was true. Nevertheless, David Beckham goalie-kicking a ball off an out-sized double-decker bus – which opened out more like the Batmobile than an English rose – felt sadly appropriate.
Beckham’s transitory fame was only the natural progression of a focus on iconic images. How do you match the Great Wall? A CGI of graffiti being sprayed. The video encompassed “our” architecture: Big Ben, the Gherkin, Tate Modern and the London Eye as well as the architecture of our lives: a zebra crossing, a black cab, cyclists and umbrellas. All of it would have been lost on the Chinese, Jun assures me. Some of it was lost on me. How can cyclists be ‘uniquely London’ in China? Didn’t Katie Melua sing that song years ago?
China organise choreography’s epitome. Some guys in Soho represent us through Jimmy Page and Leona Lewis singing “Whole lotta love”. Err, couldn’t they at least have persuaded Elton John to change a few lyrics (again) and plink-plonk “Olympic Torch in the Wind”? Finally, the dancers unveil a girl chosen by Blue Peter viewers (after the cat-naming scandal, I was forced to consider that this child may have been pre-chosen to reinforce the multicultural make-up of the choir). It felt like a big unfunny in-joke.
Perhaps I was just cynical because we’d had to witness Boris Johnson bumbling in with half his hands in his jacket pockets, slouching alongside a podium of stiff spines and better tucking-in. The traditional circus ditty – my ex-ringtone – troubles my grey matter associations whenever I see him. Probably not as painful as A Clockwork Orange, though. The clown preceded a strangely impotent flag and “our” national anthem. I karaoke the Pistols’ God Save The Queen but loathe the god & monarch trite.
Comforted by the commentator’s sketch of the Sydney eight minutes (see title), I was able to enjoy her qualification of London: “the coolest place on the planet, say the organisers”. Yet Londoners shown celebrating were doing so on the Mall, outside Buckingham Palace. We subjects with no written constitution and a royal family that we implore a deity to “save”, so cool. At least we have newspapers.

Home and Away, Away and Home

Watford v Charlton Athletic

Saturday 16^th August

Though the season has just begun, I couldn’t help but feel a bit Groundhog Day as the minutes passed on our first home league game of the 2008/9 season. The starting line-up was (slightly) different to any I’d ever seen, the subs’ bench included new on-season-long-loan Grzegorz Rasiak, and the first-team is trying to play a new style of football. Nevertheless, the elements of familiarity have bred sufficient ennui for me to recognise it in my own celebration of man-of-the-match Tommy Smith’s goal after half an hour.

Although Charlton were down to ten men before half-time, the Hornets didn’t really look like adding to the total until after Rasiak had come on for Tamas Priskin and put himself in the sort of positions the Hungarian doesn’t seem to find. It finished 1-0 though.

Got back to go out with Nicola and say goodbye before she went back to Brisbane. Beers in the Montagu Pike, where I was regaled with Julie’s exploits in too much detail, were followed by more and boogie in Bordeline, watching Faisel try to chat up every member of a hen party and more.

Nottingham Forest v Watford

Saturday 23^rd August

Followed the latter part of the match through TV updates as we watched highlights of the Olympics. The three clean sheets we’ve kept were undone by Forest, who took the lead twice only for Tommy Smith to equalise. Their third goal was the final one of the match.

Hanna and Rodney came round later and I proceeded to lose at tennis, golf and boxing on the Wii and at Texas Holdem too.

All around me are...

Watford v Bristol Rovers (Carling Cup 1^st Round)

Tuesday 12^th August

Joss met me in the shop having had to go back for his season ticket and we got him the new season’s shirt before queuing at our turnstiles, which will obviously be unable to cope when we get to the league games, and in just after kick-off to our slightly wet seats. Familiar faces behind but not in front: the ground was less than a third full and the glass felt the same way. We needed the programme to identify certain players: Theo Robinson (back from a long loan at Hereford), Ross Jenkins (namesake of one of the Taylor-era greats) and Jon Harley, while Scott Loach made his first start in a game we’ve seen.

It was clear that we were trying to keep the ball on the ground and equally so that we are not yet an accomplished passing side. Will Hoskins, replacing Tamas Priskin – who has a head injury – looked sharp and his low centre of gravity helped him make a few runs that were just a turn or two short of mazy. Robinson also looked dangerous at points but was unable to convert chances he created. At the back, Mat Sadler, Leigh Bromby, Adrian Mariappa and transfer-listed Lloyd Doyley dealt comfortably with the League One’s front men while the midfielders generally negated each other.

We took the opportunity of the break to get warm food and out of the cold and saw on the screens that Moses Ashikodi had put his loan side (Hereford again) ahead at Crystal Palace. “Typical,” I felt. Theo scored loads for them last season and now Moses may do the same. Meanwhile, we can’t score for the proverbial boiled sugar and butter. After half-time we moved back a few rows to avoid the latest shower and endured a half whose highlight was their keeper getting hit with a ball thrown back from the crowd and, five minutes later, retaliating when a kid tried the same thing from the row in front of where we’d been. Philips took some stick the rest of the match for that.

Watford substitutes included Ashley Young’s younger brother Lewis but it was another, Billy Gibson, who had the greater effect. I had not been looking forward to extra-time but fortunately was spared it when Hoskins latched on to a Gibson pass and coolly slotted home. Joss wants Luton at home (partly, I think, to taunt them over their thirty point deduction) but I am easy. This match was not.

Going to the dogs

Crystal Palace v Watford

Saturday 9^th August

Even before we’d been defeated by eventual play-off winners Hull City at the end of last season, Jordan Stewart had been allowed to leave. Nathan Ellington was loaned to Derby, where he joined Stewart, after one season as our record signing and departed with some words about the style of play he preffered. Danny Shittu seemed poised to join Rangers all summer but went to Bolton for £2 million a week or so ago and Darius Henderson left for the same fee to rivals Sheffield United, where he has already scored in pre-season. Other peripheral players left too and coming in we had Jon Harley from Burnley on a free. Meanwhile the chairman has announced that we have somehow spent all the money that we earned in our premiership season and from the sales of Ashley Young, Hameur Bouazza (now at Charlton) and Marlon King (now at Hull in the premiership).

There is talk that we may need to offload Tommy Smith and Jobi McAnuff this month too while the need for a striker was underlined by the nil-nil draw we got at Selhurst Park today. While there were “handbags” during a game we dominated, I was with Jun and friends in Chinatown pretending that going sixths on dim sum was a fair deal for a vegetarian before Rod gave three of us a lift to Walthamstow Stadium for one of the last evenings of greyhound racing there. I’d happily have traded the few pounds down I was on the races for a point away against a team that finished above us last year. It might just be that I’m unduly pessimistic.