Painfully, we’re actually battling against ourselves as much as our opponents. The lack of confidence shown by certain key players – and that really is all that’s wrong with them – directly results from some disgraceful behaviour by sections of the Watford support. We’re sixth and there’s a witch hunt going on.
All the current talk of transfers and new blood and “lack of ambition” is just a smokescreen, nothing more than the standard knee-jerk reaction of football fans. (It ceaselessly amuses me that the demands for spending on new players are never accompanied by sensible names. Sign someone, the supporters seem to cry…even if we’re immediately going to realise that they’re crap, start slagging them off and demand a repeat performance.) It is a smokescreen in two ways: first, it hides the considerable achievements of this squad of players; second, it allows them to get away with performances like this.
Ah, the good old days. Travelling to far-flung, God-forsaken corners of the country on my own (not having at that time discovered the delights of the Watford Mailing List and started to travel to games with like-minded fanatics). Memories of watching Perryman/Lee/Roeder era Watford. And watching them play crap. In the cold. Yes, the trip to Bradford brought back all of those fond (?) memories. My first solitary journey to an away game for two years, aimless meandering through a cold and characterless Northern city centre before stumbling across the stadium and a thoroughly lamentable performance to boot.