Catchphrase: Say what you see.. Wanker in the Black... Riiiiiiiiight
Schneiderlin’s suspension meant there was a space in central midfield and this was filled by Paul Wotton. Michail Antonio dropped to the bench to make way for the return of a second striker in Lee Barnard. Lloyd James was on the bench where there was no place for the Jaidi shaped man mountain.
The game starts and Oldham are playing that formation we all love, you know the one with the centre forward totally isolated about 40 yards from any other player. This made for a cagey opening with the first goalmouth action coming following the award of a free kick for a foul on Barnard. Sir Rickie beat the wall but the keeper made a decent low save with the rebound narrowly avoiding the players following in.
We are 12 minutes into the game and stumpy little short arse goalkeeper and ex-Saints ‘never made it’ Daryl Flahavan goes to take a goal kick. He retrieves a ball from a ball boy to the right of the goal, walks over to the left, changes his mind and walks back to the right, puts it down, backs away, pauses for a bit, takes one pace of his run up, stops, takes a step back, starts his run up again and kicks it. Well done you stumpy bastard. Three minutes later – same ritual again. Hammond, Puncheon and Wotton are all on a the ref but he does nothing. Here’s what to do if you’re ever refereeing. The first time a keeper obviously wastes time, tell him to cut that shit out and get on with it. The second time you book him – no pissing about and that’s the end of the issue. It’s so easy so why does no referee do this?
The game stuttered along to the half hour mark before the crowd got excited and loud when Saints were awarded a free kick on the edge of our own penalty area. This was a well received event because it was the first thing we had been given by the useless fuck with the whistle since the free kick on 9 minutes. In amongst the referring masterclass unfolding before our eyes, we manage an effort by Hammond which loops up and is clawed away by Stumpy. It’s already feeling like one of those days.
Oldham have retreated back so far they are nearly back in Lancashire and the ball seems to be attached to Dan Seaborne. He obviously doesn’t like this state of affairs and see it as his mission to welly it as far as possible in the general direction of Sir Rickie. Seaborne has about 30 yards of space to walk into but he must have the voice of Peter Kay in his ear, ‘HAVE IT!!!’. That advert was funny but this isn’t – take it forward, draw them out, then pass it FFS.
Dan Harding had our last chance before half time when Lallana set him up and he lashed a snap shot into the empty seats behind the goal where the Oldham fans could have been if they had any. Harding was involved again when right on half time the Oldham right winger momentarily got away from him but as Dan got back to him he threw himself to the floor and Harding got a booking. Another brilliant bit of refereeing. Half time and rubbish.
Pards decided to change things at the start of the second half only he didn’t really with James coming on for Wotton in a straight swap. Unless he’s injured then I don’t see the point in that one myself as it means that one of Waigo, Connolly and Antonio isn’t going to get on. The ball was worked back to Lloyd from the kick off and he banged it up the wing and out for a throw to Oldham, illustrating immediately why he was brought on.
We went close soon after with Barnard having a shot saved but the referee did for us again when an Oldham centre back quite clearly handballed as he jumped with Sir Rickie. Penalty all day and nothing given. More Oldham time wasting an indulgence from the referee was interrupted by a Sir Rickie header which again, was saved by the vertically challenged custodian of the nets. At this point I (rather negatively I thought) decided that we weren’t going to score today
The ref then finally did something about all the time wasting. Oldham made a sub on the hour mark and the player going off took an age to get off the pitch. The ref ran after him and booked him just as he was stepping off the pitch. The net result of this booking was therefore nothing at all. The player booked was not going to be inconvenienced at all and it wasn’t going to make the other 11 get on with it.
Papa Waigo came on for Barnard and Saints went a bit gung ho, over committing players forward but without any quality delivery to make this tactic effective. Inevitably, Oldham actually got into our half and broke away and it took a bit of a spawny save from Superkelv to stop Oldham taking what would have been the most undeserved lead in history. Kelvin appeared to dive the wrong was and the ball kind of got stuck between his knees. Doesn’t matter how you keep them out I guess.
Would it be Connolly or Antonio as the final throw of the dice? In the end it was Connolly and to the surprise of no one, it was Lloyd James who came off to make it the second time that the sub has been subbed this season. This was a tactical substitution as we were chasing the game but I can’t imagine anyone was impressed with James’ performance which was a real 2 out of 10 effort and that’s being generous.
We get a corner and Seaborne’s header is smothered away by a combination of mini-keeper and defenders. Papa Waigo is looking our player most likely as the game enters the last 10 minutes. Punch and Lallana are trying hard and trying to play through the massed ranks of defenders but it’s just not working and so we need the full backs to be getting round the back, providing width and getting crosses in. Dan Harding is doing ok on the left but today is the day I finally made up my mind about Jon Otsemobor.
When a team is winning you tend to gloss over some of the players failings but when it doesn’t go according to plan and you want a player to actually do something to influence things, you notice that some can’t. Aside from the James-Wotton Dead Zone – the one who hit the depths for me today was Jon Otsemobor. He is wank (perhaps no the best adjective as it has an end product) and that’s all there is to it. When the surgeons removed the bullet from his arse they must have also removed his will to win. If there is a 50-50 to win – he’ll lose it. If there is a 60-40 in his favour to win – he’ll delay just long enough to not have to compete for the ball and lose it. All he has got is his pace – nothing else. Can’t tackle, can’t cross a ball, no brain, no guts. Useless, really useless and contract up in three more games and don’t let the door hit your ass.
The final flurry of activity in the Oldham penalty area peaks with a Sir Rickie header that is blocked by one of ten defenders in the way and a peach of a low cross from the same player which is not really attacked by anyone as it fizzes across the goal about four yards out and out for a goal kick.
Bugger it.
The referee managed to end the game without getting it wrong, which was a surprise. He was incredibly inept all game but in a strange way, the fact that our playoff hopes were now gone made the anger at him a bit less because I had something else to be annoyed about. Saints were faced with a team who were intent solely on defending and getting a 0-0 and a referee who was so bad that they could waste time, persistently foul, pull shirts and basically do whatever they wanted and get away with it. Saints however have got to be able to rise above this though and today, for whatever reason, it wasn’t going to happen. Oldham for their part defended very well in great numbers and worked incredibly hard and got what they came for. I reckon that and early goal would have seen us win 4-0 but it wasn’t to be. Morgan's stupid sending off bit us hard today as both Wotton and James were not what the doctor ordered (unless he ordered a plate of crap with a side order of bollocks) and though he's not the long term answer, Simon Gillett would have been a better bet today as he gets stuck in but occasionally you get a decent pass out of him, unlike the two that played today. I hope now that Huddersfield get 6th place with more than the 78 points we could have got before today.
Shit game, shit result, sod all chance or making the playoffs, shit everything. For me personally… I’ve got no job and I have a sinus cold which makes my head feel like it’s about to explode. Still, tomorrow the sun will be shining and my car will need all the volcanic ash clearing off of it, a task which I have all day to perform. To nearly all of you who went to SMS tonight, I hope you haven’t caught my cold as it’s not nice. If you are one of the Chuckle Brothers sitting behind me, however…
Next up, JPT Final revisited as it’s Carlisle at home….
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