It really was one of those games where throughout the second half you were really really hoping for an equaliser but you knew that your hoping was completely pointless. We were fairly rubbish in the 2nd half and it was going to be a depressing trip back down the M40. And then the first miracle happened and suddenly we were all smiling. A draw would be a great result. And we were all cheering and urging the team on in a way we hadn’t for the whole of the 2nd half. There was belief in the stand, the whinging had gone to be replaced with encouragement. And then it happened and it was just the best.
This was the first match we played after 9/11. Surprisingly there was no mention of it anywhere in the programme.
BSAD reports: Even having been there to witness it, it seems barely possible that this can have been worse than the first leg against Cheltenham. But it was. Much worse. An absolute abomination, a performance that rotted away before your very eyes. Jesus.
This was a slippery slope of a game, often literally, which started out brightly, with plenty of early forward insurgencies and more than competent defensive work. But as the minutes began to crawl by, the Curse of Worthington enveloped Vicarage Road, sucking the life from our fine body of men, leaving them at first on a par with, and finally below, way below, their industrious but seemingly unambitious lower-league opponents.