Today is bloody awful. The more so for miserable indifference to the sense of anticipation that the arrivals of Kuszczak and Trotta, two big fillips for areas of the team that neeeded fillips. Yes, OK, we may have been dicked by Crystal-effing-Palace last week but we’re at home, and new striker and new goalkeeper, and it’s all going to be fine.
Home ties with Leicester are becoming unmissable (remember this one? Or this one?), and this stood comparison with any of them. Indeed, if the quality of the football wasn’t always the highest, the level of excitement and drama was unparalleled. It was Prison Break as a football match, rejecting credibility in favour of a script that rolled ludicrously from one side to the other affording any number of dramatic cameos and contributions and leaving all those in attendance, surely, buzzing on adrenaline and reliving the highlights in their heads long after the match had finished. This, as I wrote after the corresponding fixture last year, was what you bloody go to football for.
The home side looked bright from the start and took the lead just after the half-hour mark when a free-kick deflected to Eustace on the edge of the box and he fired a fine effort in off the left-hand post.
Star of the half-time role-call one Ray Lewington on his first visit back to the Vic since his unseemly departure almost seven (count them) years ago. Entirely appropriate that he received a warm welcome, and even a chant from those shivering in the Rookery who weren’t incapable of going a couple of hours without an alcohol break.