Forest never do things the easy way, do they? We should have been raising a glass to safety this evening, but instead we’ll be supping up with one cautious eye on the league table.
It’s been a remarkable turnaround, and for a few weeks almost everything has gone our way. But there remains a chance of a final day disaster, at least until Monday evening.
We played fairly badly this afternoon; trapped somewhere between complacency and incompetence. But we did enough.
Blackpool were determined to throw down the anchor on 2008/09 and they didn’t let us have our own way. Davies set out for a sensible point.
Forest took the lead on the back of a polished move and another excellent Lynch cross. The subsequent 15 minutes saw a run of opportunities to double the lead.
The home side were nothing special, but they were scrappy enough and ugly enough to keep the game on a leash.
They had enough about them to cash in on a leaky back five system which lacked anything of the discipline shown at Sheffield United. The equaliser came after Chambers dived in on the half-way line and his colleagues failed to recover.
Garner’s automated toppling strategy gave us 20 minutes of hope, but Blackpool were in no mood to take their own battle to the final day and they were boisterous in every tackle.
Chris Cohen’s free kick was tipped over (perhaps his first ever passable set piece), Earnshaw came close with a net-whistling strike that had some Forest fans celebrating, and James Perch missed the target with a free header.
In stoppage time McGugan had a customary scolding from Earnshaw after drilling a poor shot into the keeper’s arms instead of passing.
But Forest fans filed out in fairly high spirits, dwelling on the usual doomsday scenarios and mathematical strategies that dominate conversation at this time of year.
A few over-excited simpletons playing up for the ITV cameras were a little more sure of our fortunes than I am, but we’re very nearly there.
As we suspected, a win against relegated Southampton – who will have no incentive beyond pride – will keep us up, and probably reshape the entire future of the football club.
I celebrated the Burnley and Wolves equalisers as though they were our own, and I’ll reserve equal passion for a Reading victory on Monday. I just hope we’re not being buttered up before an almighty fall.
The Blackpool fans were happier this afternoon, but the joke’s on them. Their back garden continues to be a cesspit of vomiting Glaswegians and fat orange slappers in costume.
For the record, if the game had kicked off at 3pm I wouldn’t have made it today. The M6 Northbound was stationary for 15 miles on the way back home. The chaos has swallowed up several thousand Manchester United fans on their way to Old Trafford. And as of 5pm a Villa fan I know was stuck at J16 (Stoke) where he’d been since 1 o’clock. The Villa team coach passed him on its way back to Brum...
Ratings
Smith – 6 – excellent save from a late free-kick, but the same old story.
Gunter – 6 – not as comfortable in the advanced role.
Chambers – 6 – not a horror show by any means, but one or two shaky moments spoiled the performance.
Morgan – 6.5 – not as solid with the weight of the entire team on his shoulders.
Breckin – 6 – not mobile enough, but just about coped.
Lynch – 7 – incisive ball for Blackstock’s goal. A reasonable defensive performance.
Osbourne – 7- another solid performance.
Perch – 7 – good tackling back, but couldn’t bridge the gap between defence and attack.
Cohen – 6 – a poor game by his own high standards, compounded by typically poor set pieces (one free kick aside). He’s overdue that summer holiday.
Garner – 7 – scrappy, and his gumption saw them reduced to ten men. Would he have scored if he’d stayed on his feet? I don’t think so.
Blackstock – 7 – a handful all afternoon, and a vital goal.
Subs
McCleary – 7 – not suited to the ploughed playing surface, but he caused problems.
Earnshaw – 6 – only one real chance.
McGugan – 6 – too late for an impact.
Saturday 25 April 2009
Monday 13 April 2009
Exhausting
Easter weekend is supposed to be a holiday, but it has been a lot more exhausting than a couple of days at work.
Over the course of one weekend we have stared down the barrel of a gun, lifted a city to its feet in ecstasy, and stood firm against the odds to keep hopes alive. And we’ve done it all in about the hardest possible way.
Saturday was chaos. With 80 minutes played we were running out ideas, and the clock was speeding by with our Championship status affixed.
On 85 minutes we were convincing ourselves that a point kept the door open just wide enough for us to slip through.
After 95 minutes we were in rapture, and it took another 95 minutes to heave another priceless point away from South Yorkshire this afternoon.
This weekend has restored ailing faith, and it has uncovered crucial evidence that our side has the bottle and the resilience needed to stave off catastrophe.
We were a weaker, meeker, friendlier side earlier in the season. There is no doubt in my mind that a spirited Sheffield United side, ears ringing from the yearning roar of a packed Bramall Lane, would have beaten us before Davies arrived.
-
Today we had to be ugly, cynical and – at times – flagrantly fraudulent.
Every substitute disappeared to the far wing, every throw-in took an age, every loose ball was rolled into no man’s land at the sound of the referee’s whistle. And more importantly than any of that, every single player had to stand tall and do the work of several.
Wilson was the only man to let Nottingham Forest down this afternoon, and he owes the club a substantial debt.
Forest had started the game brightly and were covering a lot of ground to keep United quiet; it was an encouraging fifteen minutes.
And then came Wilson’s moment of sheer absurdity. United won a disputable free kick and Greg Halford made off with the ball under his arm. Wilson tried to retrieve it, and after a few words in anger he dropped his forehead on to Halford’s – three yards away from the referee.
It was more of a head-shove than a headbutt, and it didn’t warrant the theatrical collapse. But it was a clear and obvious red card, and I’d expect any footballer in 2009 to do exactly what Halford did.
What followed was virtually an entire game of frayed nerves and heart-stoppers.
If the game was played back now, United would probably look fairly ordinary – a strong side having an off day, and feeling the effects of a long run of success.
But during the game they seemed likely to score from every single attack. They seemed to have a hundred corners and a thousand crosses allowed into the box.
Our defending was desperate, tireless and admirable. From the moment Wilson was sent off they set up like a brick wall and threw themselves in front of every stray ball.
In midfield it was a triumph for substance over style. Cohen and Osbourne covered a lot of ground and tried to plot an escape route into United’s half, Perch was fearless.
Davies ran the show from the touchline. He took every free header and stray ball as a personal insult and made astute changes at crucial times. Very occasionally he would hide at the back of the dugout, waiting to explode if the seemingly inevitable United goal came.
Billy hasn’t given up yet, by any means. His venomous, rumbustious spirit and self belief could be what drags us over the finishing line with our necks spared.
It is going to be incredibly tight. I feel nauseous just browsing the fixture list.
Next weekend sees Barnsley travel to a despondent Reading, while Norwich take on rivals Ipswich, who are wobbling in the face of mid-table obscurity.
Three points against Coventry, who have nothing to play for, is vital. Beyond that we will probably need to take something from Blackpool, and beat Southampton (who might not be down by then, after all).
It is an awful lot to ask, but with the bottle and resilience of this afternoon, it can be done. And what a difference it would make to the future of Nottingham Forest.
Over the course of one weekend we have stared down the barrel of a gun, lifted a city to its feet in ecstasy, and stood firm against the odds to keep hopes alive. And we’ve done it all in about the hardest possible way.
Saturday was chaos. With 80 minutes played we were running out ideas, and the clock was speeding by with our Championship status affixed.
On 85 minutes we were convincing ourselves that a point kept the door open just wide enough for us to slip through.
After 95 minutes we were in rapture, and it took another 95 minutes to heave another priceless point away from South Yorkshire this afternoon.
This weekend has restored ailing faith, and it has uncovered crucial evidence that our side has the bottle and the resilience needed to stave off catastrophe.
We were a weaker, meeker, friendlier side earlier in the season. There is no doubt in my mind that a spirited Sheffield United side, ears ringing from the yearning roar of a packed Bramall Lane, would have beaten us before Davies arrived.
-
Today we had to be ugly, cynical and – at times – flagrantly fraudulent.
Every substitute disappeared to the far wing, every throw-in took an age, every loose ball was rolled into no man’s land at the sound of the referee’s whistle. And more importantly than any of that, every single player had to stand tall and do the work of several.
Wilson was the only man to let Nottingham Forest down this afternoon, and he owes the club a substantial debt.
Forest had started the game brightly and were covering a lot of ground to keep United quiet; it was an encouraging fifteen minutes.
And then came Wilson’s moment of sheer absurdity. United won a disputable free kick and Greg Halford made off with the ball under his arm. Wilson tried to retrieve it, and after a few words in anger he dropped his forehead on to Halford’s – three yards away from the referee.
It was more of a head-shove than a headbutt, and it didn’t warrant the theatrical collapse. But it was a clear and obvious red card, and I’d expect any footballer in 2009 to do exactly what Halford did.
What followed was virtually an entire game of frayed nerves and heart-stoppers.
If the game was played back now, United would probably look fairly ordinary – a strong side having an off day, and feeling the effects of a long run of success.
But during the game they seemed likely to score from every single attack. They seemed to have a hundred corners and a thousand crosses allowed into the box.
Our defending was desperate, tireless and admirable. From the moment Wilson was sent off they set up like a brick wall and threw themselves in front of every stray ball.
In midfield it was a triumph for substance over style. Cohen and Osbourne covered a lot of ground and tried to plot an escape route into United’s half, Perch was fearless.
Davies ran the show from the touchline. He took every free header and stray ball as a personal insult and made astute changes at crucial times. Very occasionally he would hide at the back of the dugout, waiting to explode if the seemingly inevitable United goal came.
Billy hasn’t given up yet, by any means. His venomous, rumbustious spirit and self belief could be what drags us over the finishing line with our necks spared.
It is going to be incredibly tight. I feel nauseous just browsing the fixture list.
Next weekend sees Barnsley travel to a despondent Reading, while Norwich take on rivals Ipswich, who are wobbling in the face of mid-table obscurity.
Three points against Coventry, who have nothing to play for, is vital. Beyond that we will probably need to take something from Blackpool, and beat Southampton (who might not be down by then, after all).
It is an awful lot to ask, but with the bottle and resilience of this afternoon, it can be done. And what a difference it would make to the future of Nottingham Forest.
Ratings Vs Sheffield United [A]
Smith – 8 – several excellent saves and a lot more challenging for crosses. His distribution let down his performance, giving United the ball far too easily with meandering balls to nobody. Davies almost choked with fury about it at one stage, even turning to berate the goalkeeping coach.
Gunter – 8 – his quality showed today, in sporadic bursts forward and some tough defending.
Chambers – 8 – a lot tougher, and a lot more composed, than we have come to expect.
Breckin – 8 – we needed his experience and composure.
Morgan – 8 – tough, forceful and bold. Never once buckled under the pressure.
Wilson - / - nonsensical stupidity. Slap him with the maximum fine.
Cohen – 8.5 – spirit wise, he’s probably the best player in the country to have in a battle like this.
Osbourne - 8 – outstanding, again.
Perch – 7.5 – gave a lot to the cause this afternoon, but he gave the ball away a few times – triggering panic.
Blackstock - 7 – not the work rate I’d have liked, but that’s not his style. He was a useful target for a midfield that had no objective beyond finishing the game.
Garner – 7 – did everything he could in difficult circumstances.
McCleary - 7 -
McGugan - 7 -
Anderson - 7 -
Gunter – 8 – his quality showed today, in sporadic bursts forward and some tough defending.
Chambers – 8 – a lot tougher, and a lot more composed, than we have come to expect.
Breckin – 8 – we needed his experience and composure.
Morgan – 8 – tough, forceful and bold. Never once buckled under the pressure.
Wilson - / - nonsensical stupidity. Slap him with the maximum fine.
Cohen – 8.5 – spirit wise, he’s probably the best player in the country to have in a battle like this.
Osbourne - 8 – outstanding, again.
Perch – 7.5 – gave a lot to the cause this afternoon, but he gave the ball away a few times – triggering panic.
Blackstock - 7 – not the work rate I’d have liked, but that’s not his style. He was a useful target for a midfield that had no objective beyond finishing the game.
Garner – 7 – did everything he could in difficult circumstances.
McCleary - 7 -
McGugan - 7 -
Anderson - 7 -
Saturday 4 April 2009
Purgatory
At full time, 3,500 gave a defiant chorus of ‘Forest til I die’. It was a valiant and heartfelt gesture, but it felt almost like a cue for the death knoll.
This could be the point that saves Forest, but it could just as easily be the missing two that cost the club its place in the Championship.
I think Forest deserved a win, and if this game proves pivotal it will be galling for reasons far beyond our misfortune. I have never been so convinced that a referee was making decisions on the basis of a grudge.
Sometimes referees make dubious calls and their competence is questioned, but some of the decisions this afternoon were not incompetent – they were frankly inexplicable.
Any 50-50 decisions that could have gone Barnsley’s way did so without consideration, and the referee turned a blind eye to some outrageous cynicism.
At one stage Osbourne was hauled down with the graceless indecency of a rugby tackle, not more than 5 yards from the referee. He didn’t spot it.
He awarded a corner for a shot that evaded Turner’s sprawling palm by two yards. His eyes glazed over as five or six horribly late challenges left Forest men in an anguished heap. He remarkably ignored the moment when a Barnsley man kicked Cohen in the shins, studs blazing. The assistant, idling less than a metre away, buckled to stage fright too.
It wasn’t our day. Every spare ball, every rebound, and every ricochet seemed to squirm into the path of a Barnsley player. But this was a spirited and workmanlike display from Forest and we were never too far away from the finished product.
The first half was played out in Barnsley’s half. Their breakaways were a problem because our defence, as ever, was frenzied. But until the last 5 minutes it was a comfortable half for us, we were steadily but surely working toward a lead.
When Barnsley imposed themselves at the end of the half our defending was panic-stricken and timorous. There was too much apprehension about the consequences of falling behind, and it’s something that could cost us in the remaining games.
Barnsley’s goal was revolting. My view was poor but it seemed to be a clash of poor defending and questionable goalkeeping. It was characterised by the goading, slurring, snarling Yorkshiremen bursting blood vessels to rub salt into Forest wounds.
It’s always the same in Yorkshire. The natives are more concerned about the visitors’ having a miserable time than they are about their own club's success.
Most of them had only bothered limping down from their back-to-backs because of the discounted ticket prices. Their typically obnoxious celebrations made the subsequent penalty miss and equaliser a lot more satisfying.
The mood lifted tremendously after Turner’s save from an atrocious penalty. After that I was certain of an equaliser, even after Earnshaw thumped the crossbar. The travelling supporters were almost sucking the ball into the net.
Sadly we ran out of breath. Barnsley had a host of opportunities as we surged forward, and for a time it was end-to-end. It was physically exhausting to watch.
The closest we came was a ball from Garath McCleary which rolled across the goal-line with the keeper beaten. Cohen retrieved the ball, lying unattended at the corner flag, and he probably should have done better with the eventual shot.
It’s not a disaster, but we’re facing serious peril now. This is a point that keeps hopes alive, but leaves us in purgatory.
We may well need three wins from five games. I’m not sure where they will come from.
It has been refreshing to watch a Forest side with some genuinely good players in it, but I fear we may well be returning to the abyss. The likes of Earnshaw and Blackstock are unlikely to come along with us.
This could be the point that saves Forest, but it could just as easily be the missing two that cost the club its place in the Championship.
I think Forest deserved a win, and if this game proves pivotal it will be galling for reasons far beyond our misfortune. I have never been so convinced that a referee was making decisions on the basis of a grudge.
Sometimes referees make dubious calls and their competence is questioned, but some of the decisions this afternoon were not incompetent – they were frankly inexplicable.
Any 50-50 decisions that could have gone Barnsley’s way did so without consideration, and the referee turned a blind eye to some outrageous cynicism.
At one stage Osbourne was hauled down with the graceless indecency of a rugby tackle, not more than 5 yards from the referee. He didn’t spot it.
He awarded a corner for a shot that evaded Turner’s sprawling palm by two yards. His eyes glazed over as five or six horribly late challenges left Forest men in an anguished heap. He remarkably ignored the moment when a Barnsley man kicked Cohen in the shins, studs blazing. The assistant, idling less than a metre away, buckled to stage fright too.
It wasn’t our day. Every spare ball, every rebound, and every ricochet seemed to squirm into the path of a Barnsley player. But this was a spirited and workmanlike display from Forest and we were never too far away from the finished product.
The first half was played out in Barnsley’s half. Their breakaways were a problem because our defence, as ever, was frenzied. But until the last 5 minutes it was a comfortable half for us, we were steadily but surely working toward a lead.
When Barnsley imposed themselves at the end of the half our defending was panic-stricken and timorous. There was too much apprehension about the consequences of falling behind, and it’s something that could cost us in the remaining games.
Barnsley’s goal was revolting. My view was poor but it seemed to be a clash of poor defending and questionable goalkeeping. It was characterised by the goading, slurring, snarling Yorkshiremen bursting blood vessels to rub salt into Forest wounds.
It’s always the same in Yorkshire. The natives are more concerned about the visitors’ having a miserable time than they are about their own club's success.
Most of them had only bothered limping down from their back-to-backs because of the discounted ticket prices. Their typically obnoxious celebrations made the subsequent penalty miss and equaliser a lot more satisfying.
The mood lifted tremendously after Turner’s save from an atrocious penalty. After that I was certain of an equaliser, even after Earnshaw thumped the crossbar. The travelling supporters were almost sucking the ball into the net.
Sadly we ran out of breath. Barnsley had a host of opportunities as we surged forward, and for a time it was end-to-end. It was physically exhausting to watch.
The closest we came was a ball from Garath McCleary which rolled across the goal-line with the keeper beaten. Cohen retrieved the ball, lying unattended at the corner flag, and he probably should have done better with the eventual shot.
It’s not a disaster, but we’re facing serious peril now. This is a point that keeps hopes alive, but leaves us in purgatory.
We may well need three wins from five games. I’m not sure where they will come from.
It has been refreshing to watch a Forest side with some genuinely good players in it, but I fear we may well be returning to the abyss. The likes of Earnshaw and Blackstock are unlikely to come along with us.
Ratings Vs Barnsley [A]
Turner - 7 – a fairly shaky first half. Made some smart saves and excellent decisions in the second.
Gunter – 7 – solid display and some good passes.
Morgan – 7.5 – his mistake nearly cost us late in the second half, but for most of the game he was like a brick wall – throwing himself in the path of everything and everybody. A worthy captain.
Wilson – 6.5 – solid performance, one or two poor passes.
Lynch – 6.5 – solid but unremarkable. Played a great ball for Earnshaw in the second half that almost created a goal.
Cohen – 7.5 – tireless and desperate performance.
Osbourne – 7.5 – excellent display as he roved forwards and back, always found a pass.
McGugan – 7 – a decent performance from a slimmed-down Lewis, until he disappeared in the chaos of the second half.
Blackstock – 7 – the target we’ve been lacking. Not a sensational performance, but he holds the ball up and finds useful flick-ons – we don’t have anybody else capable of that.
Earnshaw – 7.5 – should have bagged a couple more really, but this was a busy and hard-working performance from the best striker we’ve had in a very long time. I think he knows he’ll be leaving if we’re relegated, and I think he’s desperate to help us avoid it.
Tyson – 6 – poor touches throughout the game and not particularly effective from the wing. Had one or two promising moments as he took players on, but it didn’t really work. There is potential in Tyson latching on to Blackstock’s flicks.
Gunter – 7 – solid display and some good passes.
Morgan – 7.5 – his mistake nearly cost us late in the second half, but for most of the game he was like a brick wall – throwing himself in the path of everything and everybody. A worthy captain.
Wilson – 6.5 – solid performance, one or two poor passes.
Lynch – 6.5 – solid but unremarkable. Played a great ball for Earnshaw in the second half that almost created a goal.
Cohen – 7.5 – tireless and desperate performance.
Osbourne – 7.5 – excellent display as he roved forwards and back, always found a pass.
McGugan – 7 – a decent performance from a slimmed-down Lewis, until he disappeared in the chaos of the second half.
Blackstock – 7 – the target we’ve been lacking. Not a sensational performance, but he holds the ball up and finds useful flick-ons – we don’t have anybody else capable of that.
Earnshaw – 7.5 – should have bagged a couple more really, but this was a busy and hard-working performance from the best striker we’ve had in a very long time. I think he knows he’ll be leaving if we’re relegated, and I think he’s desperate to help us avoid it.
Tyson – 6 – poor touches throughout the game and not particularly effective from the wing. Had one or two promising moments as he took players on, but it didn’t really work. There is potential in Tyson latching on to Blackstock’s flicks.
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