You know this, but I’m going to say it anyway. There have been better Watford sides than this in the past, and teams that have achieved more (although there’s time…). But this little spell bears comparison with the most illogically enjoyable of our past (and there have been plenty of those). We’ve not battled and scrapped for these results, although the work rate is there. We’re comprehensively too good for people, week after week. It would be prudent to reserve final judgment perhaps until we see the squad at the end of January. But at the moment, being ten points from safety looks, extraordinarily, irrelevant. And this with a first team with an average age of under 24, and a subs bench with an average age of 20. Truly, glorious fun at the moment, and not to be taken for granted.
Will Hoskins’ late strike helped Watford edge away from the drop zone and dragged Ipswich back into trouble. Henri Lansbury opened the scoring for the Hornets when his 35-yard free-kick eluded everyone and sailed straight in.
Yes, yes, Will Hoskins. We’ll come to him in a moment, for we must first pause to salute Lord Doyley. The bravura pirouette in the first half, followed by splendid left-footed cross onto the head of Heidar Helguson at the far post, was the stuff of ten minute standing ovations. But the defending often deserved a similar response: one early Ipswich attack bounded eagerly over the halfway line, discovered Jay Demerit too far forward, threatened to burst dangerously into the penalty area…and then found itself quietly shepherded to somewhere near the corner flag, any spark of danger suffocated by a gigantic, inescapable wet blanket. He must be utterly miserable to play against, ninety minutes of having your bright ideas tied up in red tape by the local health and safety officer.