Dire

Watford v Scunthorpe United

Saturday 26^th April

Air and Rod joined me at Euston for the train to the Moon and the ground to meet Joss, who had my season ticket. Their tickets hadn’t arrived so I’d phoned to have them left at reception and we were in before kick-off. The fans started in good voice but, in an all too familiar routine, there were boos when we went in goalless after forty-five minutes.

After sixty Ellington and Ainsworth came on and one of the kids in front of me who booed the Duke was given a right telling off by Liam, who suggested that our number 18 might score the decisive goal. “Optimistic,” I chimed but agreed with the wider point. It was Lionel Ainsworth who made the move of the match within minutes though, a run down the left followed by a cut-in and blocked shot but it was to no avail. Less than five minutes later, as I sat from chanting, I noticed their keeper’s hand go up and realised he was celebrating them going ahead.

The single goal won the game and after chants of “You’re not fit to wear the shirt” and more booing, any thoughts Betty may have had of coming to address the once-faithful were abandoned. The fact that Palace lost at Hull and Wolves only drew meant that despite this run of results, a play-off place remains in our own hands (and those of Blackpool next Sunday).

Congratulations (but not for the football)

Andjelka's Wedding
Watford v Crystal Palace
Saturday 19th April

Leaving it late as usual, we had to catch a (loathed) black-cab from the wrong direction we'd been sent after Pimlico station but we arrived at Sacred Heart Church on Horseferry Road before the bride-to-be, which is all that matters. Our subsequent movement from (rushed) groom’s side of the church to (correct) bride’s precipitated motion in others yet it was more gratifying to see we weren’t the last in.

I hadn’t been to a wedding (bar my own) since my mum’s in 1991 so it was no surprise that I found ten-year-old artefacts in my jacket pocket. What I was doing with a “Subway” card, though, I’m not sure. Andjelka came in with her mother, sister and bridesmaid (Martin was waiting with his dad and best man) and we proceeded to take the obligatory photos of the back of the soon-to-be-married couple’s heads. The service was largely in Croatian, which seemed fitting since the most devout members of the congregation seemed to be on the same half of the aisle as us.

After the vows pictures were taken on the street and said some hellos before boarding a double-decker for the reception in Epsom. Jun and I waved regally from the front of the top deck as pedestrians looked up in surprise. Champagne was provided and later so was a Balkan spirit whose “bouquet” was sufficient to discourage me. We took more pictures at the hotel and started on the champers they had there ahead of the meal. With so much to organise I felt complimented that a vegetarian option had been ordered.

After the bouquet had been caught by the bridesmaid, I called Joss, who told me – before the score – that it had been a good game, thereby getting my hopes up only to crush them with the news that we’d lost two-nil. It didn’t ruin a great evening though. We toasted the happy couple, ate, drank, danced and gambled on roulette and blackjack tables before catching a late train back.

A point won

West Bromwich Albion v Watford

Saturday 12^th April

Jun, Joss and I visited the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery and took in some Rodin and Canaletto to use up the extra hours we had arriving for a 3 o’clock kick off when Sky had obliged a 5.20 start. We ate and watched a little rugby in a Wetherspoons and then left Jun in the town centre to catch a tram from Snow Hill. A few other Watford boys were on the platform but I talked to a Baggies fan as we disembarked at the Hawthorns.

The start could not have been better: six minutes in and we were a goal to the good but as there was no stadium announcement it wasn’t until after the game that we discovered it was Leigh Bromby who’d poached his first Hornets goal following a corner. The team sat back somewhat after that and Jordan Stewart, Lloyd Doyley and Danny Shittu all made vital contributions to keeping us ahead at the break, which afforded the fans their first opportunity to sit. However, the home team levelled soon after half-time. One WBA free kick had gone over and another hit the crossbar in the first half but early in the second a third led to a headed goal and although we’d had other chances to score during the first forty-five it was West Brom who played the better football and looked most like getting a second in the rest of the match. Three or four great saves from man-of-the-match Richard Lee earned us a good point.

As most of us had no doubt expected a mauling after Wednesday, relief was probably the dominant feeling among the travelling Yellow Army and with Bristol City and Hull drawing in their games too, Stoke were the only top five side to get three points and they are top again. Watford remain in fifth and likely to enter the play-offs.

We met Jun and, due to a rail replacement service, caught a couple of buses to Bedworth via Coventry, where Brian and mum picked us up after eleven. Cups of tea and trifle finished off the day, but not before “Nanny and Grandad” received the Xmas presents we’ve been holding for more than a hundred days. Sunday we spent some time in the garden and went bowling, where the younger Watford Boy won two of the games before we trained it back home.

To boo or not to boo? That is the question.

This Watford fan (for twenty-nine years) is struggling with the arguments around how to respond to his team’s lacklustre performances.

What is the role of the football spectator in the modern game? It may seem a slightly dramatic question but I couldn’t help but wonder after I’d hushed my thirteen-year-old nephew as he cat-called during Watford’s latest home defeat (Wednesday’s, to relegation-threatened Barnsley). In retrospect I (very) slightly regret infringing his freedom of expression (ok, I’ll stop with the melodrama) but I’ve done my best over the years I’ve been taking him to instil in him my own values as a supporter.

For me, the word says it all. I take the definition of “to support” to mean “to encourage/to help” and pride myself on leaving many games hoarse as I cheer on the Golden Boys whether they win, lose or draw.

In that way I have to admit to a slight sense of superiority to those who go to games and hardly make a noise (and trust me, at Watford’s Vicarage road stadium there are thousands) even when the team is playing well and winning.

A great memory from last year’s relegation season was going to Old Trafford mid-week and out-singing 70,000 Manchester United fans as they cruised past us 4-0. My nephew and I joined in the deriding of those “plastic supporters” but at the Vic it would be hard to describe the “Yellow Army” as anything approaching a genuine twelfth man.

Nevertheless, I understand the argument that people have paid good money (£25 to watch from where I sit) and therefore have the right to respond to poor performances in a manner they deem appropriate. For many on Wednesday, that meant booing individual players during the match, booing the team at half-time when we were only a goal down and had created chances of our own, while others voted with their feet before the hour mark after we’d conceded a third.

My first reaction to those who booed so early remains unchanged. I believe that this is the only noise these people make at Watford matches: in game after game the front and back rows of the stand I am in cheers the team on whereas the silence from the middle is as noticeable as it is from the Rous stand.

Coded messages of thanks from the manager, chairman and captain after an exceptionally rousing ten-man night against Leicester a couple of months ago had a clear subtext: “Why can’t you always give us that level of support?”

Digression aside, the question of the spectator’s role remains. Is football now merely another form of entertainment, which demands no more loyalty than the latest play at the local theatre? (I choose that comparison because in a cinema booing would have no effect on the performers.)

Money has flooded the sport and changed it forever. Nevertheless, for those who choose their team because of a loyalty to locality rather than a desire to be identified with “a winning product” (hence the legions of United and Arsenal “plastics” in Watford), surely the team does not need to “earn” support anew at every match?

The raising of expectations undoubtedly makes their disappointment a harder fall. Watford sat nine points clear at the top of the Championship in November and have produced only a handful of good performances since then but were still expected to beat Barnsley (despite their FA Cup heroics).

Similarly, the size of a club is not an unrelated matter. How happy must many of the fans of FC United and AFC Wimbledon be with their league performances compared to fans of Tottenham or Newcastle? Obviously more booing has been heard at the Premier League sides than at the non-league ones.

Perhaps there is something else? After all, the reactions of many of those who turn up to watch matches seem implicitly to agree with Bill Shankly’s legendary assessment of the beautiful game: that it is much more important than life and death.

Not for me; Perspective, Shankly, have a word. Whether we go up through the play-offs or not, I will not be booing Watford or leaving matches early. I do not believe this fact alone makes me a “better” supporter than those who do but ceteris paribus the ability to laugh in the face of defeat, yes, and even humiliation, might make me a better man.

What is the role of the spectator? Is it ever justified to boo your team or individual players? What would cause you to boo a performance?

Woeful

Watford v Barnsley

Wednesday 9^th April

Jun, Julie and Jo joined me for the trip from Euston to Watford where I reminded them that we could go top with a victory tonight. Phil came in with Joss to make a row of six of us watch the Hornets outplayed, outfought and outthought after a bright opening period. John Joe O’Toole stood and watched as a loose ball was simply played wide then crossed in for Sunday’s semi-final losers to open the scoring and the cat-calls started after the Rookery had begun with a wall of sound. There were boos at the half-time whistle.

The second half was two minutes old when the visitors scored again and within another seven minutes (in which Nathan Ellington had a header cleared off the line in front of us) they had added a third and people started leaving. I tried to get things going with “Wem-ber-ley, Wem-ber-ley, we never wanted to get promoted automatically” but nobody joined in. It was the same story with “Aidy Boothroyd’s banana army” later and after JJ (family friends of whom we had met Sunday) missed a sitter from three yards, it was a case of waiting it out until we could get back to the Moon Under Water. In the garden of the pub, another spectator opened his conversation by inviting agreement with the word that makes up the heading for this post.

A good day

Watford v Coventry City

Saturday 5^th April

For the second home game in three there were ridiculous queues to get into the Rookery (named after a silk mill at this end of town) and fans were getting angry with the stewards, especially after one directed us through previously shut gates telling us that she’d managed to get another turnstile open, only for us to be turned back again and have to hear her apologies. Last time it was due to a power failure but it seems to be down to the building work now. Why fans weren’t warned in advance if that is the case, I don’t know, but have mailed the club to complain.

We were in our seats five minutes into the match and had the surprising greeting of a goal from the perennially uninterested Duke, Nathan Ellington. If he is indeed a confidence player, the level of his self-belief can be no higher than the shot he had that slid along the turf and into the back of the net past Kasper Schmeichel, who was making his second visit to the Vic after blowing a kiss to a heckler near us in his previous loan spell (Cardiff on Boxing Day). Waving flags that had been given out before I got there, the fans cheered on the team as we dominated the rest of the first half and had a couple of good chances but only took a single goal lead into the break.

I used half-time to have an each-way flutter on a couple of horses in the Grand National (based only on their names) and watching Sky Sports News on the screens on the concourse stands so as to stay out of the rain, we were pleased to see Bristol City losing at Southampton. The other teams at the top weren’t playing: WBA had lost their FA Cup semi-final to Portsmouth earlier and Stoke host Crystal Palace on Monday. Other fixtures were affected by the fact that two more Championship sides meet in the other cup semi tomorrow.

Coventry took the game to us after the break and on about the hour mark they equalised, resulting in the predictable frustration from the less than faithful among the Watford “supporters”, and soon there were shouts for the manager to make the sort of changes he has failed to inspire with on too many occasions this season. As we got close to the eightieth minute I’d heard that Comply or Die had won the National so went to collect my winnings in the belief that I wouldn’t be missing much. Slim Pickings, my other horse, had come in fourth so there was money due on that too. I was watching on the screen as Tommy Smith latched on to a Richard Lee punt and put us back in front. I shouted first, alerting all the other frustrated fans around, and collected more than £50 winnings as the team took all three points.

Who will be next year’s April Fools?

If you want an early punt on who will be bottom of the Premiership in a year’s time, look no further than the winners of the Championship Play-Off Final on Saturday 24^th May at Wembley.

In the Premiership, Derby’s failure to beat Fulham coupled with Birmingham’s win meant the Rams become the first team to be relegated from the Premiership before April Fool’s Day and they look likely to record the worst points total ever. Meanwhile, in the Championship, five teams are vying for the two guaranteed promotion places with the potential misery of the play-offs for those who don’t go up automatically.

It may be heartbreaking to see dreams of promotion dashed in the play-offs, but for the play-off winners, it looks increasingly like the trophy won at the single most lucrative game in world football is no more than a chalice coated with a slow-working poison (it took ten months for its effects to ‘kill’ Derby’s dreams though some bookies were paying out on them for relegation in September last year, a mere four months after promotion).

Four of the last five play-off winners went straight back down (in reverse order: Derby (2008), Watford (2007), Crystal Palace (2005), Wolverhampton Wanderers (2004)) and for Wolves and Palace (it’s too early to call on the others) neither parachute payments nor the experience of playing in the Premier League were sufficient to facilitate a second, more successful promotion.

Who are in the running to be next year’s Derby? Three of the following five teams will almost certainly be in the play-offs with the other two going straight up: West Bromwich Albion, Bristol City, Stoke, Hull and Watford. The other play-off place will probably go to either Wolves or Ipswich.

Before I go any further I should emphasise the unpredictable nature of the league: no one team is dominating it and bottom has beaten top on more than one occasion in 2007/8. However, since November the Baggies, the best footballing team in the Championship, have looked most deserving to top the division and their goal difference makes this outcome even more likely. Indeed, West Brom, three points off first place with a game in hand on the other teams, and despite having four of their remaining six games away, including a tricky visit to the Molineux in two weeks’ time, should finish champions.

As things stand, Bristol City are in line to be the other automatically promoted team, a fantastic feat for the club promoted from League One at the end of last season. Nevertheless, whether through the play-offs or not, survival in the Premiership will be too much too soon for Gary Johnson’s side and immediate relegation beckons should they hold their nerve in a run up which includes a visit to second-placed Stoke and a home game with Wolves.

Stoke City won five games in a row in February, storming to the top of the division, but have only won once in seven matches since and seem to have peaked too soon for automatic promotion. They have arguably the easiest run-in of the top seven, with only one match against any of their immediate rivals and that at home, but they do not have the momentum to stay in the top two.

In stark contrast, Hull City are the Championship’s form team, with wins at Plymouth and West Brom in February and five victories in March, including a convincing 3-0 defeat of promotion rivals Watford at the KC Stadium. With the second best goal difference in the league, the Tigers should feel confident that if the teams above them slip up, they have what it takes to win automatic promotion.

Watford make up the fifth team in the running. Very briefly twelve points clear in November, the Hornets play four of their remaining six games at Vicarage Road. Their home record, however, is so poor that even twenty-first placed Barnsley have more home points. Despite all of the early running, the Hornets, who seem unable to score from open play since talisman Marlon King left, look doomed to the play-offs.

Ipswich have the best home record in the league, which has kept them just off the top pack, while Wolves’ late push for the play-offs is partly due to the inability of other teams to string wins together. Perhaps the meeting between the two will decide who has the extra games at the end of the season.

In summary, though, it is the unpredictability of the league that makes it so exciting and will keep fans on the edge of their seats till the final day. Judging by the season as a whole, it is not only the matches between the top teams that will matter. Cardiff, Coventry or Crystal Palace, each of whom plays three of these top teams, could yet decide who makes the top two.

Would you want to be next year’s Derby? Most fans would still rather have a year in the top league than failure at the last hurdle and the Championship for another year. I am with the Derby fans: there were more than thirty three thousand people at Pride Park watching two likely-relegated teams play. Loyalty may not be reciprocated by results but that is football.

Bristol City, Stoke City, Hull City and Watford are middling clubs who are punching slightly above their weight. Real fans will be happy about that even if they may also want more...What fan doesn't want more? More goals, more points, more clean sheets, more passing, more inspired substitutions, more tackles, more great signings…Hope is the fans’ life. However, if their team goes up, hope may be their only lifeline.

Who is next year's ...?

Hull City v Watford

Saturday 29^th March

We had drawn our seven previous games but the failure of the other teams at the top to do much better meant that before this match and with a game in hand, winning an automatic promotion place was still in our own hands. Hull have been the form team of late, with wins at Plymouth and West Brom in February and five victories in March, and started above us on goal difference.

When Jun and I got to Sarah and Trevor’s, my brother told me were 2-0 down but when I saw the reports a little later I was heartened by the fact that the Baggies were losing and Bristol City and Stoke were only drawing. Things got worse, however, and after we’d conceded another and Steve Kabba had been sent off, West Brom equalised and then went ahead and the Robins got a winner. By five o’clock we were fifth and five points behind the leaders. Automatic promotion is no longer only down to what we do.

In Premiership news, Derby’s failure to beat Fulham coupled with Birmingham’s win meant the Rams became the first team to be relegated from the Premiership before April Fool’s Day and they look likely to record the worst points total ever, conceivably less than half Watford’s 28-point haul of last season. West Brom, despite glitches, should make automatic promotion. The second place could go to Bristol City, Stoke, Hull or us. The others will be trying to make it to Wembley to win the most lucrative single game of football ever (until next year) and the honour of being the bookies’ favourite to be relegated.

Who will be next year’s Derby? I’d still rather it was us than be in the Championship for another year but many don’t feel the same and a significant number feel we are so bad that the manager should go. One defeat in thirteen is hardly cause for sackings but seven points from the last twenty four feels insufficient for a team hoping for promotion. Nevertheless, I am with the Derby fans: there were more than thirty three thousand people at Pride Park watching two likely-relegated teams play. Loyalty may not be reciprocated by results but that is football.

WFC are a middling club who are punching slightly above their weight. Real fans will be happy about that even if they may also want more...What fan doesn't want more? More goals, more points, more clean sheets, more passing, more inspired substitutions, more tackles, more great signings…Hope is the fans’ life.

Easter break

Plymouth Argyle v Watford

Saturday 22^nd March

Rod drove Air, Jun and I to Bristol Thursday night and after bed during breakfast Friday we chatted with a nice little old lady about places to go before she told us that if she were our age she’d get out and that white people would soon be in a museum. “We’re contributing,” I offered, but she was oblivious. We stopped for Cheddar Gorge and England's smallest city, Wells, but on the road along the North Devon coast we headed straight through Dunster, which she’d recommended (“Probably an Aryan museum there” Rod guessed), and in fact didn’t really stop again until the cold, grey, windy Bude beach, where surfers were pretending their experience was comparable to Hawaii.

Before we got to the match we visited Eden and came away less than impressed. A few pretty pictures of flowers are not worth £16/head especially when you’re sweating too much to read the signage. Parked in the stadium car park and took our seats for our third of four consecutive “big” games. Collins John started with Doris and had the best chance of the first twenty minutes but Jermaine “have a nice” Easter scored first and we had to wait about 200 seconds for Lee Williamson to curl in a free-kick to get the draw we played like we’d be happy with despite dominating possession.

In the second half they had Peter Halmosi sent-off with a second yellow but not before confrontation between their fans and our players ( Jordan Stewart and Mart Poom seemed to be in the thick of it) after our physio had squirted water on to Halmosi as he lay on the turf following the tackle that saw him dismissed. They made substitutions that counted, one of whom was called Lilian and the otherwise quiet bunch around me joined in with my “Lily, Lily, blow us a kiss” chant but it was the back rows’ “Do you speak English?” and “You’re Welsh and you know you are” that I liked. Plymouth having ten men livened things up but not so much that they actually got that interesting. Easter placed the ball well into the net but was offside and Danny Shittu had a trademark header cleared off the line so maybe another draw was fair. Bringing on Nathan Ellington for John hardly seemed inspired and after Doris got a yellow, meaning suspension, we could have done with giving Steve Kabba a run-out.

We stayed Saturday night in Looe on the recommendation of a mate and were impressed by the fishing-for-tourists village. I got up early to take pictures and had cause to regret not bring my camera’s battery charger. We got to the Mount of Saint Michael before pushing back to Exeter for the night. The trip was rounded off on Monday by a visit to the Cotswolds and I had seen more of England in a few days than ever in one go.

Ten go six for six

Watford v Stoke City

Saturday 15^th March

Julie, Jo and I had a sharp one in The Britannia on Euston’s concourse and made our way to Watford’s Moon Under Water, which has become a regular pit-stop, for an equally quick pint. We followed a few chanting Stokies for a way and met Joss at the seats. I had a spare ticket, which I’d offered belatedly and unconvincingly on my first attempt at “leading” a Jack the Ripper tour Friday evening, that I’d thought one of Joss’ friends might have taken up. It’s the first time that’s happened though my season ticket will be available for the Palace game in April (friends’ wedding) and much of next season. Let’s face it, the threat I made a few games ago was as empty as Luton Town’s bank account.

This was a déjà vu game: a man sent off, a positive reaction from fans and team, domination of possession (we were all over them yet with no real prospect of scoring), a saved Henderson penalty, a point. Stoke didn’t come to win so if the red card to our captain John Eustace, who we bought from them less than two months ago, was unjust, it’s time to claim robbery again. I haven’t seen it - the word is that it was high and given the injury to Eduardo, it is hardly an unbelievable decision - but joined in the invective aimed at the ref, Rob Styles, anyway. Why not?

We’ve had six draws in a row and yet automatic promotion is back in our own hands despite Hendo failing to convert penalties against the top two teams, losing us four points and gaining each of them one. Why? Simple, because they are dropping more points than us. Bristol City lost at home today to Plymouth Argyle while WBA (who drew at home to Palace on Wednesday) were 1-0 up, went down to ten men at home against relegation-worried Leicester and lost 4-1. Charlton have dropped out of the play-off places and it is Hull and Plymouth, our next two away games (I’m going to Home Park Easter Saturday), who are in fifth and sixth.

What would Joss be missing if I hadn’t already renewed our tickets? On the football side I believe it will be a Premiership season that we struggle to survive. If I’m wrong, it’ll be because we don’t go up and I wouldn’t like to wager on us getting out with the knowledge of no more parachute payments if we fail. That way only lies a to-January plan and the club don’t have the patience.

I expect, still - and given all I’ve seen - to be cheering on Watford for the first few weeks of another Premiership season come August and then allowing my ticket to be used by more fair-weather-fans while Jun and I head to the other side of the world. I hope those in the front-row seat go home at least as hoarse as I was today.

Fifth draw on the trot

Bristol City v Watford

Tuesday 11^th March

Before the game I was wondering why I hadn’t treated myself to this trip: I was hyper at home with no early start Wednesday. Then Three Counties Radio became unavailable online (contractual obligations, I believe) and so the experience was relegated to the trusty BBC live text online (refreshes every two minutes). An excerpt:

16:46
Attacking throw-in by Jamie McAllister (Bristol City).

16:07
Collins John (Watford) caught offside. Indirect free kick taken right-footed by Adriano Basso (Bristol City) from own half, resulting in open play.

15:07
Cross by Jordan Stewart (Watford), shot by Collins John (Watford) mishit left-footed from centre of penalty area (12 yards), missed right. Goal kick taken long by Adriano Basso (Bristol City).

It is not like being there.

Meanwhile I read that teams that play in red at home have the advantage, but worse, those that play in yellow or orange do worst at home - something no Watford fan would disagree with this season - and watched other scores come in (Luton went two-down at Carlisle within 30 minutes). Doing the latter evoked a fondness for smaller teams I’ve known supporters of: Brighton (Rob & Andy) equalised, as did Barnsley (Sue) while Oldham (Luke) go one- and Aldershot (Daniel from Old Street) two-nil up.

It’s not the same when a flash comes up “missed penalty” and you hurry your eyes to find out which team (us) and who (Darius Henderson).

Unsurprisingly, the lure of The Poles Are Coming, the latest in the BBC’s White season, was stronger than the static screen and I got to see Lithuanian’s and Poles who “loved to work hard” in Peterborough, “the first town in the world designed by a computer”. Or as the slightly insincere-seeming presenter summed the place up when closing: “strangely attractive to the rest of the world”.

The White season has been a mixed bag so far but the first documentary, Last Orders, which followed part of the slow demise of a Workingmen’s Club in a poor area of Bradford, has been the most ‘in-te-resting’. In some ways it called to mind Julian Baggini’s Welcome to Everytown, which I enjoyed six months ago, not least because of its concern with the concepts of fairness and desert. The programme, however, seemed keen to focus on BNP support whereas the book distinguished carefully between racism and a wariness of change.

The penalty was saved “superbly” and the game finished goalless. Watford had started in third and could be fourth after the Baggie’s home game against Palace (Glenn) tomorrow.

Two points lost, one place gained

Watford v Norwich City

Tuesday 4^th March

Walked to the Vic and there’d been some sort of power failure resulting in silly-size huddles by the turnstiles; I was huffing but the mood wasn’t like the MK game. Watford were dominating possession when I belatedly joined Joss in a wet and half-empty row, with a nod to a neighbour, and within a few hundred seconds Danny Shittu emerged as subtly as a cliché at a player-of-the-season awards ceremony to head another goal from a set piece.

Before the match Betty had come into the Rookery and shaken Joss’ hand (which beats me catching the ball a game or two ago) as he encouraged the twelfth man. The eleven dominated again but seem to have moved away from long balls down the middle only for long throw-ins and percentage play up front. Norwich didn’t make the same mistake twice and after the Duke, a square peg in the round Watford Way hole, missed a couple of free-kicks and Doris didn’t create anything, we ended up with three men trying to head the same ball with no opposition players in the picture. There were boos when scorer-in-the-last-game Jordan Stewart came on and more jeerers within five or ten minutes (a poor corner and a worse free-kick later) and inevitably some blaming him when Norwich equalised late on to win a lucky point.

A draw put us up a place to second behind the Robins, who got a point at Charlton. Walking out we heard the Baggies had won with the last kick of the game so the pressure is on. We are feeling it. The next two games are away at Ashton Gate and home to third-placed Stoke. We really needed all three points tonight and the Yellow Army was damp.

Two leads lost

Burnley v Watford

Saturday 1^st March

Tens of civilians are massacred by the Israeli war machine in Gaza the day after the country’s deputy defence minister threatens “a bigger shoah” and in a week that has already seen 33 Palestinians killed. The term “asymmetrical warfare” formalises the disparity highlighted by The Guardian that “80 Palestinians were killed and 82 injured by Israeli military strikes in Gaza in January alone. At the same time 267 rockets and 256 mortars were fired towards Israel, injuring nine Israelis.” The final score for the month, to recap: 80 Palestinian and no Israeli deaths, 82 Palestinian and 9 Israeli injuries. No wonder Matan Vilnai uses the word holocaust to describe the fate of the Palestinians.

Having gone to bed only after I’d stayed up all night and later read the threats in the paper that morning, I was up to watch the live text on the BBC website and see the Horns go from a goal up at Turf Moor (Darius Henderson) to conceding an equaliser before going ahead again through Jordan Stewart. Within a minute of that second goal, however, we’d let in another and the game finished 2-2. Stoke lost in midweek against Preston and play QPR away tomorrow. West Brom won today but so did Bristol City, who are now top of the league.

Passing point

Watford v Preston North End

Saturday 23^rd February

Had an email from the club about renewing season tickets that I didn’t have time to respond to before I left a little earlier than usual. I stopped off at the Buzz Store and bought a t-shirt I thought Joss would like but when I got to Kerry’s and asked how his behaviour had been, she ummed and erred and brought out his recent school report. There were 15 negative referrals (13 positive) and they included things like throwing a sweet at a supply teacher. I was not impressed and put on my best “This is not acceptable” face.

Walking to the ground I told the younger Watford Boy that I would not buy him a season ticket for next year unless his next report was better (seven or fewer negative referrals). Though I stressed that I meant it, we will have to wait until June to discover whether it has the desired effect. I took the opportunity to explain to my bumfluffed nephew that I wouldn’t be around for much of the following season.

We were a couple of minutes late despite my good intentions this morning and I had to gesture a “hop it” at the boys who’d temporarily occupied our seats. A group of kids Joss reckons to be 12-14 seems to have built up in the location of the front-row singers: I overhead one say he came down from where he sat with his dad elsewhere. They guy on the opposite side of the aisle, who I have mentioned before and whose name is Liam, is clearly their inspiration. He’s funny and passionate and “our” leader. I play the loudest voiced lieutenant, though we’ve never talked, and of course there are others in the Yellow Army around the front who lead chants and songs too. These boys are the new recruits and slightly annoying one or two of them were too, at times, but essentially harmless and learning how to behave at football matches. I can’t help hoping Joss is a little more mature in my absence, but I doubt it.

Well, we in the front and back rows cheered them on as usual, as Watford played a good passing game (not so usual) for much of the first half, bossing possession and with some good opportunities, many of which Jobi McAnuff played an important role in creating. However, Nathan Ellington wasted a couple of the resulting free-kicks and Darius Henderson missed at a tight angle after rounding the keeper (“Lonergan, you were long gone”, our leader taunted). The guy behind us (OK, I promise I’ll ask his name next time) talked to me and we chatted about our better football and the games to come.

The second half was much of the same though Preston had a period of possession that didn’t trouble us (they’d hit the post in the first half). We kept cheering them on and “we’re the back row” started and resulted in one guy in the middle standing up only to have to change his contribution from “We’re the middle” to “I am the middle over here”, which served as light relief. Then Danny Shittu headed against the post and it was hard at first to tell that the ball was looping out and away. Finally, Hendo and Nathan Ellington combined to bundle the ball in but even as I was hugging Joss someone said it had been disallowed. At the final whistle, we clapped as some of the people, a tiny “middle” minority, booed. The same people, of course, who had failed to sing all game.

I went round to Sarah & Trevor’s to deliver a belated birthday gift to my two-year-old niece, Kasey. Her parents had primed her with the information that “Uncle Handsome” was coming round so as she is learning to speak she is associating the word handsome with my face. Who knows what damage that will do her? All were well and in fine form, with Beth as keen to be in front of the camera as ever.

Predictably drawn

Charlton Athletic v Watford

Saturday 16^th February

Each of the last three meetings between these sides has ended with honours even but Charlton would have been expecting better when they went in at the break 2-0 up. Betty’s rousing speech in a huddle on the pitch after the break galvanised the team (as did John Joe O’Toole’s second-half appearance (Tuesday’s red card has been rescinded)) and we were level ten minutes after the break. JJ got the first and Danny Shittu made up for an earlier own-goal by heading in again at the same end for his current rather than former team. This was a better point for us than for our promotion rivals.

Twelve men and you fucked it up

Watford v Leicester City

Tuesday 12^th February

Had to walk from the Junction to the stadium via the pub cos I can’t take the bike on the train. Joss was in before I got there and I joined him with programmes and finally returned his Simpsons Movie DVD. Tommy Smith missed his first game of the season (knee) and Captain America is still out injured. The new boys: Mat Sadler, John Eustace and Leigh Bromby all started; Collins John (from Fulham on loan) is yet to get fit.

We started well and the Rookery picked up where it left off ten days ago. Shooting towards the Vicarage Road end, we kept their keeper busy and he looked good for it. They hardly had a chance down our end until about the fortieth minute. Last man Adrian Mariappa made a hash of a ball by committing himself too early and it was past him and being chased by two on two. Steven Clemence, who was by no means certain to get the ball, pulled up indicating he’d been tugged from behind by John Joe O’Toole, our Irish international, and did a whole dance (no song) when the ref gave nothing. I started off a “drama queen” chant but it didn’t last long as the assistant referee summoned the ref over and after a lengthy consultation, JJ was red carded and the Foxes had a free-kick twenty yards out.

Fortunately the free-kick came to nothing but the Yellow Army responded well to the injustice (Bromby was a covering and therefore JJ was not the last man) and after a few expected “You’ve only got twelve men” chants, started into the whole repertoire. Within a few minutes, however, songs gave way to cheers as Darius Henderson poked in a Bromby cross-shot and the ten men went in one up at the break.

The second half was all about the noise the Yellow Army brought. We didn’t stop and even the middle of the Rookery, and parts of the East Stand and Rous were getting involved. Fortunately, the intended effect came to pass rather than the Watford players just stopping in amazement on hearing positive noise from the stands on the side of the pitch. Against constant pressure but no real chances, we held out for all three points and there was a massive celebration at the end. Henderson ran his legs off closing things down from the front and is definitely our post-King hero.

Ploughing back to top

Ipswich Town v Watford

Saturday 9^th February

Ipswich hadn’t lost at home for almost a year when Watford came calling. With a first-half goal from Tommy Smith and a second from Nathan Ellington after the break, the Tractor Boys’ record was broken before their consolation goal. West Brom lost at Barnsley so we are top of the league again.

Oh what an atmosphere

Watford v Wolverhampton Wanderers

Saturday 2^nd February

I met Jo at Euston about 1:45 and we had the first pint in the Britannia overlooking the concourse and the dirt and dust of the kiosk roofs waiting for Ali. It was to be Jo’s first ever game and Ali’s first in England: they were excited. I was just hoping for better than last week. They marvelled over the speed of the journey (a first on Silverlink, I’m sure) and we were supping in Watford’s Moon Under Water by three. A drink in the Three Bells and then past St Mary’s to the Oddfellows. I was giving a running commentary all the while (I used to live there, this is new, used to work here) and they listened with good grace.

I chatted with some no-colours Wolves fan in the second pub and later we were surrounded by them in the place I used to be a pot-boy. Ali told me there’d been something in the newspaper about Maradonna retracting something to do with “the hand of God” and admitting that it was his hand. Sitting next to a table of Wolves fans I had to tell the story of the cheating Argie (I managed to get in a good bit about John Barnes’ crosses, for good measure) to someone who’d never heard it before.

Joss went in before us but after we had taken some pics outside the ground we joined him and then went to sit with a better view where the girls had tickets. There was bugger all atmosphere around though, despite Steve Kabba getting his first Watford goal within a minute. The woman next to me complained when Jo leant back to say something and so we returned to the “front row” at half-time (after a beer).

That turned out to be the best move of the day. It was a party down the front and I led my fair share of chants, the newbies joining in too. There seems to be a new bunch down there (we’ve been elsewhere for three games and the father of the father-and-son behind us that I half-chat to had mentioned they thought we’d given up) but there were some of the usual faces too.

Second half saw two Tommy Smith goals in two minutes, though I thought until Sunday that Nathan Ellington had scored the first, and we spent the rest of the game on our feet as I became ever more hoarse. Favourite new song was for Kabba: "He used to be shite, but now he's all right..."

We walked Joss down to meet Kerry and Phil and then headed back to pubs in town, managing a crawl down to the pond end. Last was O’Neils, where some guy tried I talked to tried to make a racist joke at Malky Mckay’s expense, clearly unaware that he was white. After that, it was non-stop Watford cleavage all night. Jo and Ali attempted to make football conversation but were non-plussed that nobody except us cared. After hanging around to see whether the local constabulary had much to do, we caught a late train back, and I was at home about one, whispering.

Blades point

Sheffield United v Watford

Tuesday 29^th January

Nathan Ellington got his second goal in consecutive league games in the first-half as Watford went in one-up at half-time. The BBC describe the Blades’ goal as “bundled in” and we dominated a match that brought us a point closer to West Brom, who lost at Preston as we did so recently.

Crashing out

Watford v Wolverhampton Wanderers (FA Cup 4^th Round)

Saturday 26^th January

Row R of the Rookery in our third match away from our normal seats provided another better view from which to see Watford concede a goal after just four minutes, Richard Lee stuck in the mud as a lob went over him. I’d already had occasion to glance at the guy next to me and share a couple of disconsolate nods so even after less than 300 seconds this was not a complete surprise.

The rest of the first half was less than enthralling and our less-than-full-strength eleven only had one shot on target, when a Nathan Ellington free-kick was tipped round by their keeper. Marlon King has finally left, joining Wigan rather than Fulham, and we had Tamas Priskin and “The Duke” up front, with ten starts and two league goals between them for the season. Priskin was right off his game and, despite a couple of good touches, Ellington generally still looked less than up-for-it.

Steve Kabba was played on the right, new signing from Birmingham Matt Sadler started at left-back, Al Bangura began for the first time since the Carling Cup games and Malky Mckay was drafted in from semi-retirement. What happened to Douglas Rinaldi, Matt Jackson and Lionel Ainsworth? Surely they are the second string and need the games?

We were sliced apart twice more in the first half of the second period and an exodus of fans left to taunts of “loyal supporter” from the back row boys behind us. Even before they’d got out of the stand, they would have heard the cheer greeting John Joe O’Toole’s goal and I joined in “We’re gonna win 4-3” chants that looked possible for another couple of minutes but it was actually the visitors who had the last laugh, with their centre forward bagging his second in the last minute.

All the “que sera” songs were theirs and Bristol City won in the league to put us third again. If the rested players don’t pull something out of the bag at Brammall Lane on Tuesday, I won’t be the only one wondering whether it was all worth it (even at £10 a ticket for me and £1 for Joss).