Eat, Sleep, Lose, Repeat

Jen Kelly – a.k.a. Cheshire’s Revenge / The Word Nerd – brings ilovemacc her own take on the highs and lows of The Silkmen

How must Danny Whitaker be feeling right now? Having been passed over for the gaffers job for the 3rd time back in January, he must be watching the Kennedy saga play out in disbelief.

Another game, another defeat. That’s six points from a possible 33 for Kennedy and just one lonely notch in the win column. 8 goals scored, a massive 17 against.

Of course, on paper Danny is still part of the managerial team so is not totally removed from the current situation. But he seems to be getting less and less visible with each game, sidelined into 3rd place in the pecking order.

Maybe his side-lining is more down to the fact that he still has Askey, Scott and Bianchi in his Facebook friend list….

Stick to the script

As I arrived at the ground I did a double-take. There was an actual queue at the ticket office on London Road. Not just the usual few faces, but an actual proper queue right up to the road. Turns out it was mainly due to the presence of a new ticket seller behind the window, a lovely lady who was valiantly processing each sale through the convoluted e-system that seems to demand 154 clicks of a button before each ticket can be handed over. There were the usual polite mutterings and tuts from the waiting fans, but as the whistle went for the start of the game no-one seemed overly arsed at missing kick off. 

I had my second surreal moment of the afternoon when I went to take up my usual spot on the LRT. There…..were PEOPLE there. So many in fact that I had to squeeze into a small spot at the very back of the stand next to the bemused faces of my dad and the rest of our usual LRT companions. Granted, since the closure of 50% of the London Road standing areas it has been a bit busier where we stand, but this was almost like a 3rd round FA Cup tie against a big club in terms of numbers. 

As it turned out, there were 600 extra fans in the home ends yesterday. 600. That’s over a 50% increase on previous games. Where on earth have they come from and, more importantly, why?!

Regardless of the reason, we welcomed the extra bodies and the added protection against the elements as the winds of Storm Jorge whipped around our ears. On the pitch the game was a few minutes old and, for all intents and purposes, was looking like a decent one for Macc so far. We’d seemingly come out of the blocks quicker and were marginally having the best of play.

Kennedy had made one change to the starting 11, albeit one forced by agreement rather than tactics. McCourt took the spot of Salford loanee Whitehead, with Hamblin making up numbers on the bench. It looked as though we were trying for the 3-5-2 formation again, with O’Keeffe and Archibald channelling their inner Wing-back. It’s the approach we’ve tried a few times with little success. The theory is fine, but in reality Archibald knackers himself sprinting back to defend before returning to attack. O’Keeffe fares marginally better but struggles to get forward with any real conviction. Our current midfield just aren’t well-formed enough to create the space required to pull the opposition in and release the sides for an attack anyway. But Kennedy seems to be a persistent bugger, if nothing else.

Wind 1, Salford 1, Macc 0

The game levelled out after about 20 minutes. We’d had a few half chances but had failed to capitalise. McCourt, for all his shouting and gesturing, is not the player he was. Tollitt hasn’t shown much of anything for me so far and we were desperately missing a playmaker in the middle. Tracey had ran around a lot and Gnahoua had shown some snippets of skill, but neither truly looked like breaking the deadlock.

The wind was playing an important part, and it seemed we had completely failed to understand it once again. Mitchell thought he was better than the storm and continued his recent habit of thumping balls up the pitch and then wondering why they weren’t getting very far. 

It was therefore predictable that it was the wind that got the better of us. Salford were on the attack and the ball was out on the left at the feet of Ashley Hunter. With no Macc player anywhere near him, he had plenty of time to fire in a stinging cross. The wind took hold and carried his cross perfectly into the top right hand corner of Mitchell’s goal, who had no chance of stopping it. A cruel goal to concede, no doubt about it, but one that we had allowed to happen by backing off and letting Salford into the game.

If anything the goal should’ve woken Macc up and made them realise the game was slipping out of their grasp. But no, we decided instead to go all rabbit-in-headlights and let the visitors take full control. There was a lot of pontificating from the bench but no sign of any actual clear instructions, and the team as a whole looked rather despondent and downbeat.

Moments before scoring their second Salford had launched an attack that was intercepted by both McCourt and Tollitt in turn. Unfortunately, both players completely failed to do anything more than pass the ball back to the opposition to give them another crack at it. It was only down to a quick reaction from Mitchell that the ball was kept out of the nets on that occasion. It was therefore perhaps inevitable that Salford’s second goal came from a cluster of errors across the board.

After another Salford surge, the ball seemed to cut through our defence with ease and slipped through Mitchell’s hands to find the back of the net. It was a sloppy goal to give away but no more than Salford deserved. They’d read the conditions and worked hard for their lead, leaving us collectively scratching our heads wondering what had just happened. As the whistle went for half time there was no reaction from the home supporters whatsoever, although I’ll bet if you’d have listened really carefully you’d have heard a quiet sigh from every single person huddled on the home terraces.

Floodlights and furrowed brows

The two blokes behind me spent the first 10 minutes of the second half counting the number of bulbs that were broken in the floodlights, and debating how many more could break before the game would have to be called off. Wishful thinking, considering it was still daylight, but it perhaps demonstrates how good the football was. 

The introduction of Ironside in place of the ineffective Tollitt on 55 minutes gave a sliver of hope for a short while. Joe seems to be completely out of favour with Kennedy, but is one of the few players that can actually hold play up and distribute properly. Within minutes of coming on he took on three defenders down the right, beating them all to deliver a cross worthy of a much higher level. Gnahoua was in a great position and threw himself at the ball, forcing the Salford stopper into a decent save. In the follow up everyone was out of position. O’Keeffe thrashed at the bouncing ball, missing completely, and McCourt finished the move by firing in a far-out shot that went well wide.

The next piece of play perhaps summed up our general performance. We won a corner which Archibald stepped up to take. After much dicking around he played the ball in and completely failed to get it past the first man. It bounced out for a throw which Archibald once again took. He managed to throw it further than he’d kicked it. Figures. 

We never looked like coming back and aside from a few half-hearted efforts the game rolled to full time with little else to report. Late on the ball fell to Mitchell, who delivered a poor kick out and forced Kirby into a scrappy defensive battle on the left touchline. Having eventually got the ball out for a Salford throw, both Kirby and Cameron immediately turned to let rip at Mitchell. The comradery seems to have well and truly left the building.

Is an end in sight?

We ended the game with 4 strikers on the pitch, with Wilson and Blyth having joined the party. Neither made any impact and we were once again left wondering where the next win would come from. The team as a whole are looking more downtrodden as the weeks pass by, and with just 10 games left it feels like a minor miracle is in order to turn our fortunes around.

Kennedy’s post-match interview was another 10 minutes of mostly waffle and gesturing. He agreed that the second half was a poor performance and had fizzled out. He made some comments about how nice we are, suggesting we should be playing up the fouls and trying to earn an advantage in any way we can. I’m inclined to broadly agree with him, but it doesn’t make me any happier about it all. Yes we’re a very young team and yes, maybe there is some naivety to our general approach. But I’m failing to see how his current tactics are trying to tackle these obvious issues.

Leaving out Ironside and Fitz seems ludicrous, when both players are able to create space and move the play forward. Archibald is struggling without someone behind him and Tollitt just doesn’t cut it for me at all. I’d like to see Stephens back in with a sniff, as for all his failings he can be useful as an additional outlet for an attacking line. The loss of Harris and Paddy has played its part in reducing our options, and I’m even tempted to suggest giving Rose a go in the middle to offer some experience and intelligence. God, things must be bad!

The 10 games left look like 10 massive mountains. We’re due to face a smattering of teams from across the table and it’s hard to see where we’re going to pick up any more points. We should be at least aiming to beat the teams around us in Stevenage, Mansfield and Carlisle and aiming to nick a few more points from the rest. However, from those 10 teams we’ve beaten only one in the reverse fixtures and that was Scunthorpe back in August with a penalty. 

See, massive mountains to climb and a distinct lack of any equipment, maps or guidance on how the hell to do it. In the words of Kryten, the mechanoid member of the Boys from the Dwarf, “it leaves us galloping up diarrhea drive without a saddle.”

Everything now points to the 25th March, when we’re back up in court after a short reprieve. Allegedly, the extended time was given due to a deal having been “accepted in principle” for the sale of the club. The silence from Heir Alkadhi since that statement has been deafening, although not surprising, so forgive me for feeling like it’s all just part of more nonsense to delay the inevitable. By the 25th we’ll have played four more games and might have a better idea of how things are playing out up the road at Oldham. Their demise might be our buffer, and we can only hope that Stevenage continue to self-sabotage to give us that glimmer of hope.

Because it’s not about football anymore, not really. It’s about which team’s owner is the absolute worst human being and, for that accolade alone, I think we pretty much top the league.

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