Wick to Wembley: The Book!

Those of you who pay attention to STT will remember a feature we ran last year, encouraging you to patronise a cracking little blog we’d come across called Wick to Wembley where a man called Andy Ollerenshaw attempted to follow his local team from the preliminary qualifying road of the FA Cup all the way through to the final. That’s a journey of 16 games, covering almost the entire country, during which he saw crowds swell from an underwhelming 108 to a phenomenal 89,000.

It goes without saying that we feel that this is a great title, and an essential for any football fan. It’s well written in a friendly and down-to-earth colloquial style, charting the ups and downs that come with a modern day attempt to fulfil the classic Road to Wembley motif. Don’t believe me, then read the wise words of endorsement on the back cover:

“Excellent…worthy of your precious time. An attempt to regain a little bit of grass roots football magic. It’s a cracking idea; set your face to ‘smile’ and check out his exploits.”

What a beautifully constructed sentence, I should imagine that whoever wrote that was very astute, and certainly knows what he’s talking about. He’s probably quite good looking too, not to mention popular with the ladies.

Anyway, for more information and to actually buy the book, go here. £1 from the sale of each copy will be donated to the AfriKids charity, so if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Africa. You don’t want people thinking you’re a racist do you?

Finally, if you enjoy Andy exploits in this book and are left gasping for more, check out his latest venture here. This season he is attempting to follow the non-league journey of the FA Vase, again from his local team Chertsey FC, all the way to the Wembley-hosted final. He has already seen his mighty Chertsey breeze past Oakwood and Hassocks, before succumbing to the behemoths that are Arundel, so join him again soon as the Second Round Proper kicks off November 15.

FA Cup Quarter Finals - Giants Now Extinct

You don’t need me to tell you what an incredible weekend for football this has been; pick your own cliché but we really did see the rebirth of cup magic on Saturday evening as one of the greatest upsets of all time took place in Yorkshire. To the glory of all neutrals around the world, including one would imagine a certain Mr Mourinho, struggling Championship side Barnsley did the impossible and beat Chelsea 1 – 0 at Oakwell. Don’t think for one minute though the Tykes got lucky or robbed the Blues, they thoroughly deserved the win as they did up at Anfield a couple of weeks ago. With only Cech and Drogba absent from what would be Avram Grant’s strongest 11, Chelsea would’ve expected to cruise through to the semi-finals, especially buoyed on by Manchester United’s shock exit earlier that day, but despite early pressure not once did they force 5^th round hero Luke Steele into making a save in the Barnsley goal.

Joe Cole looked to be the only Chelsea forward remotely interested in the first half, causing problems with some direct running and tricky dribbling, but with no-one else on his wave-length, attacks seemed to consistently break down in the final third of the pitch. Time and time again Barnsley defenders threw themselves on any sign of danger, snuffing out several half-hearted Anelka attempts as they themselves grew into the game and felt comfortable amongst Chelsea’s multi-millionaires. The break-through came for the Tykes just after the hour-mark, with striker Kayode Odejayi climbing above Carlo Cudicini to nod in a beautifully stood-up Devaney cross and shock the Premier League big boys with only his second goal of the season. Following the goal Chelsea seemed to wake up a touch, but were still unable to convert their almost exclusive possession into a clear cut chance as Barnsley got everyone behind the ball and dug in to the final whistle. Fingers have been pointed at Avram Grant for his team selection and motivational techniques but at the end of the day surely the buck has to stop with the players? For supposedly world-class footballers, no-one on the Chelsea side can really hold their head up today after what was a flat, passionless and downright embarrassing performance; if the likes of Malouda, Anelka, Wright-Phillips, Kalou and Pizarro were half as good as they clearly think they are then this should’ve been a walkover. Take nothing away from Barnsley though, to a man they were outstanding. Special kudos go out to Hassell, Kozluk and Adejayi, all were simply immense in the face of such a gulf in reputation and salary.

On any other day the headline would’ve undoubtedly been at Old Trafford though, where Portsmouth recorded their first win against United in Manchester for 51 years through a late Sulley Muntari penalty. Flying high after advancing past Lyon in the Champions League midweek, Man United came out of the blocks fast and often threatened in a dominating first half performance that saw Pompey’s resolute defence severely tested several times. After just 6 minutes Cristiano Ronaldo latched onto a lovely pass from Rooney to drive past Hreidesson into the Portsmouth penalty area, only to be upended by the covering Sylvain Distin. Ronaldo and Ferguson were especially livid when the referee waved play on, and in retrospect one might perhaps expect a penalty to be awarded, but Distin’s challenge was shoulder-to-shoulder and he simply out-muscled the United speedster. Heroics a few minutes later from Sol Campbell and Glen Johnson kept Rooney and then Tevez out in quick succession, and with the scores level at halftime Pompey started to feel confident with the ball at their feet finally.

Still United created chances though, with Ronaldo getting increasingly frustrated as shots from him and Tevez dribbled wide of the Portsmouth goal. Substitute Michael Carrick was fed by a superb back-heel by the Portuguese twinkletoes on 67 minutes, but having rounded the keeper was tackled on the line by Distin rebounding the ball precariously around the 6-yard area until David James was able to pounce on it. Patrice Evra then saw a rasping drive pushed onto the post miraculously by James as Pompey started to feel that maybe it wasn’t going to be United’s day, finding more and more space in their opponent’s half as they pushed for a smash-and-grab winner. With less than 15 minutes remaining, Krancjar broke away down the right and was able to feed in Milan Baros, only for the Czech striker to be brought down by substitute keeper Tomas Kuszczak and a penalty was awarded. With Kuszczak himself already on for the injured van der Sar, United were forced to put Rio Ferdinand in goal for not the first time in his career following Kuszczak’s red card, but the professional merker was powerless to stop Muntari blasting his spotkick into the corner of the net. United felt robbed after the game, with uncharacteristic histrionics from Alex Ferguson and Carlos Quiroz directed at the referee, but the fact of the matter is that Pompey played superbly throughout, with Diarra, Muntari and Johnson especially worthy of praise. Like Arsene Wenger, why is the Red’s boss unable to be gracious in defeat and just admit they were beaten fair and square?

And still the upsets kept coming. Never ones to be outdone, Cardiff decided to get in on the giant-killing act too over Sunday lunchtime, totally embarrassing a hapless Middlesbrough team on their own turf. Inspired by ex-Boro star Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink, the Bluebirds stamped their authority on the tie right from the first whistle, and not once did Middlesbrough look like the higher-ranked team as Cardiff created defensive confusion every time they attacked in the opening 45 minutes. A sublime individual goal from Peter Whittingham put the Championship side ahead early on, with clever footwork carving a shooting opportunity despite being surrounded by 4 Boro players. The second came not long after as the excellent defender Johnson headed past Schwarzer after being left completely free at the back post. Gareth Southgate must’ve wanted to trot on himself after watching cross after cross fly dangerously into the Boro box, and in all honesty the Premier League side were lucky to not be 4 – 0 down at halftime.

The introduction of every buffet’s nightmare, Mido, after the break did little for Boro’s aspirations and in the full 90 minutes they depressingly managed just the one shot on target. Overall the performance was flat and lazy, with some of the most wasteful passing and striking you’ll see this year. As with Barnsley before them, every Cardiff player was a hero at the Riverside but worthy of particular mention were Scottish right-back McNoughton, McPhail in the midfield, and 17-year-old Liverpool target Aaron Ramsey down the left flank.

So, on the back of three games and three upsets, anticipation was understandably high at the Memorial Ground in Bristol early Sunday evening as Rovers aimed to make it four out of four for the lower league clubs. Alas it wasn’t to be however, despite a spiriting showing from the home team that the final scoreline severely betrays. The Baggies went ahead early on when James Morrison pounced on a parry from Rovers keeper Steve Phillips, after he failed to properly deal with Roman Bednar's straight-forward toe-poke, and from that moment you just felt West Brom relax and take control. Ishmael Miller doubled the lead shortly afterwards with a cracking left-foot shot having drifted in off his right wing, but the home side’s heads didn’t drop and they bagged a scrappy goal themselves shortly after to keep the dream alive. As pressure built towards the end of the first half, Miller broke away and looked certain to restore the two goal advantage, but he comically lost his footing after rounding the stranded goalkeeper.

Rovers started the second period brightly as the crowd whipped up a riot to spurn their side on to snatch an equaliser, but with Dean Kiley in the West Brom goal having to make few actual saves, the semi-finals looked to be just a round to far for the Pirates. A Hinton mistake at the back gifted Miller his second of the game, and with Tony Mowbrey affording the luxury of bringing Zoltan Gera and Kevin Phillips off the bench with twenty minutes left, Rovers never really got back in the game. A late poach from Phillips, and a measured strike from Miller to complete his hat-trick, make the game look like a rout but Bristol Rovers did themselves proud to keep their heads high in the city that could well be hosting top flight games next season for the first time in more than thirty years.

So the FA Cup is well and truly up for grabs then now, with all four remaining teams definitely feeling that they have a realistic chance of winning it. Obviously Portsmouth are the clear favourites, but given how things have gone this year who’s to bet against the first lower tier team since XXX taking home the famous old silverware. It’s been a great competition for the neutral so far, and without doubt for once football truly has been the winner with 3 Championship sides making up 4 of the semi-finalists. I wonder what our good friend Barney Ronay has to say about his glorious Premier League now?

One quick gripe though: why must the semi-finals also be played at Wembley now? Doesn’t that kind of detract from the magic of the stadium and the thrill of that first time appearance in the stadium for a final? The journey is to Wembley, so why shoot your metaphorical load early by playing there in the semis too?

(Well obviously because the stadium went millions over budget and the FA are happy to do anything to recoup it all as soon as possible, but that’s beside the point.)

Here's the draw for the men's semis:

Barnsley vs. Cardiff City

West Bromwich Albion vs. Portsmouth

STT just watched the draw with Match of the Day 2 presenter and Baggies fan Adrian Chiles and he was not a happy chappie. He had this to say:

'Fuck! Bollocks! I'm going home.'

The New Wembley Chronicles Part 2

A little while ago, we ran a piece agreeing with some comments Gary Lineker made in reference to making this new Wembley an intimidating fortress. Now, as infrequently as I agree with Mr Lineker, he was spot-on, and now it seems that Ray Wilkins is getting in on the bandwagon, with comments like this in preparation for Wednesday’s make-or-break European Championship qualifier against group winners Croatia: “When Scotland and Italy walked out (on Saturday) you couldn't hear yourself think, but we don't have that at Wembley and we need to start producing that.”

Even on TV, the roar at Hampden Park was deafening and the passion immeasurable, both of the players and also of those fans drunk enough to have bagged tickets. “Lots of people keep questioning our young men about their passion and about their feeling for their country,” Wilkins said, “well, once an Englishman pulls on that England shirt, nobody has any more passion, I can assure you.” I’d question this comment somewhat, but that’s for another time.

What we are left with though is a chicken-and-egg situation, where the fans are apathetic and hyper-critical of the players because they are shit, whereas the players would complain that they’re shit only because there’s a real lack of crowd noise and support. Guys like Lampard and Bentley get booed when their names are called, but rather than right these perceived wrongs on the pitch by performing as well as we’re constantly told they can, they’d rather whinge about it to the media and get new haircuts.

What was most interesting about Wilkins’ statement though was this: “At the moment we haven't failed. If we go through on Wednesday (Steve McClaren) should keep the job and take us to Euro 2008.” Haven’t failed??!! Really Ray, exactly where have you been the last 18 months? We have capitulated and embarrassed ourselves time and time again in this qualifying stage of the competition, having to leave it to the very last minute, once again, to hopefully secure advancement into the finals. This was among the weakest groups around and yet we’ve consistently struggled, with last year’s back-to-back matches against Macedonia and Croatia literally among the worst 5 performances I have ever seen from anyone. Ever. And I’ve watched pre-pubescent girls with down syndrome play.

Rant over.

Anyway, so in conclusion, I heartily agree that we as England fans should be loud and passionate and get behind the team as much as humanly possible at this spectacular new stadium and elsewhere around the world…but only when things change and we actually put out a team worth supporting.

The New Wembley Chronicles

It’s not often that I agree with anything Gary Lineker says, but two days ago in The Sun something he had written actually made me chin-stroke and nod along sagely in agreement, drawing some pretty strange looks from people around me on the tube.

He said we need to turn this New Wembley into a fortress, and make visiting teams fear comingover here to play us again: “We rarely lost there in my time — and this new stadium does have to start feeling like home for England, otherwise we won’t qualify for the European Championships.” And he’s dead right. We may need to win all of our remaining games to dig ourselves out of a hole to actually qualify, and this will only happen if home games are as close to guaranteed victories as possible.

I couldn’t really care less about international friendlies, so only saw a few of the highlights two nights ago, but the general consensus from guys that went to the game I spoke to was, “same old England.” A lot of promise but no final product. 90,000 fans under-whelmed by the team yet again and even out-sung by the pockets of traveling German supporters.

Yes, it was a friendly and no, we didn’t have our full strength team and we were unlucky and blah blah blah. Irregardless of the final score, Lineker’s point still holds. Any opposing team that steps out into our national stadium should be greeted by a huge wall of noise, towering above them in the incredible surroundings. Not only that, but if anything is going to inspire our team to actually perform anywhere near as well as we’re constantly told they can, then surely it’s that kind of epic crowd noise and support. Remind them they’re playing for their country and what it means to everyone else in that stadium. And no, that doesn’t mean whistling and booing during the German national anthem for fuck’s sake.