JORDĀO'S JOTTINGS VS Birmingham

JORDĀO'S JOTTINGS

MASTERMIND

BIRMINGHAM CITY 1
WEST BROMWICH ALBION 1

EFL CHAMPIONSHIP 
Fri 14th September  Kick off 19:45

The theme for tonight's game was going to be a rather strained and tenuous link. It was all about road signs, I'd got it all worked out, puns, cliches, play on words..... all sorts, for example, Birmingham's pitch has always had an "Adverse Camber", The wind sock sign would have been employed if Dwight Gayle was running riot, of course if we'd lost it would've been "Keep right on to the end of the road, then turn left, stop at the lights, third left, across the roundabout and then follow the signs to the Hawthorns"

But, after witnessing the so called "Passing" game, I immediately thought of "Mastermind", the black chair, Magnus Magnusson (I know I'm going back a bit), but it was a chosen subject of ninety minutes, not two.

Magnus "Good evening and welcome to mastermind,  the four contestants tonight are"
Kyle Bartley "My name's Kyle Bartley, I'm a centre half and my chosen subject is passing"
Ahmed Hegazi "I'm Ahmed and my chosen subject is passing"
Chris Brunt " Hi, I'm Chris and I'm supposed to be a central midfielder, my specialist subject is passing"
Magnus "But first can Dwight Gayle please take the chair" "Dwight, your 90 minutes start now" "What was your aim for tonight?"
Dwight "To make runs into space and score goals"
Magnus "Correct" "And what didn't your midfielders do?"
Dwight "Pass"
Magnus "Correct" "The defenders instead of clearing their lines decided to do what?"
Dwight "Pass"
Magnus "Correct" "In the last few minutes Harvey Barnes hit the bar, what"
Beeep, beep beep, beep!!!
Magnus "I've started so I'll finish!", "What did you successfully do in order for him to have the chance?"
Dwight "Pass"
Magnus "Correct" "And at the end of that round Dwight you never got any chances."

The other three stay firmly in their seats, twiddling thumbs and looking sheepish.
Magnus "So that's the end of the game, the others made no passes"

In truth, the game was entertaining, in as much that it was an eye rubbing experience. How can a team who played with such skill and pace, energy and inventiveness against Stoke and QPR look so ordinary when pitted against a side who were industrious, but obviously limited in their capabilities? We were awful, plain and simple, apart from Phillips and Barnes who still carried a threat even after it was obvious Birmingham had a "kick lumps out of them two" policy from the first minute.

If our "Chosen Subject" of passing was bad, then the "General knowledge" section was dreadful, with some players not knowing what colour kit they were playing in. Birmingham scored through the Baggies losing comfortable possession in the wrong area, then allowing the Blues time and acres of space to basically do what they want. Another piece of suicidal passing gave the opposition chance to make it 2-0, but for the second time this season, young Sam Johnstone saved the resultant penalty, after a few minutes of near Kamikaze defending. I'm certainly no prophet, or top class coach, but, I warned in the pre match notes that Birmingham would press our defence and be a threat out wide. They did both, because our midfield two are being overrun or just outfought on occasion. We are where we are because our firepower can salvage and even snatch victory or at least a point in the blink of an eye. Matty Phillips did just that, with individual persistence and quality to wrestle back the match when it looked like we'd go into the break losing. On the balance of play Birmingham, (if they had our strikers) would've been out of sight.

Ht 1-1

The stats stated that the Baggies enjoyed 63% possession, it certainly didn't feel like it. The second half didn't match the first in pace or energy and with Birmingham not showing much creativity it offered the Baggies chance to dictate the play. But,  once again the decision making and execution of pass was inept. Hegazi and Bartley continued to try and give Blues a clear scoring opportunity, luckily their strikers were either too shocked to be allowed in on goal so easy, or more likely they're just not up to much.
On this showing the Baggies have a lot of work to do to even reach the play offs, even then it'd be a rabid optimist who'd think we'd survive in the premier league. Barnes hit the bar late on, as Albion finished the stronger, though it would have been extremely harsh on Birmingham if it had gone in.

Verdict.
Some of our players are really struggling with the system and the playing philosophy being asked of them. The playing out from the back is all well and good against sides who set up to sit back and hit on the break, but against high tempo in your face opposition we look very, very average and at times embarrassing. We could and possibly should have been hammered tonight.
There's no honeymoon period in this division, there's certainly no respect for ex premier league teams, it's blood and thunder football and some of our players tonight were found very wanting. Such is the nature of this league the Baggies will most likely tear Bristol City apart on Tuesday, but to most observers tonight, we might need to have a new "Chosen Subject" and bring in one or two new contestants.

JORDĀO'S JOTTINGS V DERBY quotes

Pressure is something you feel when you don't know what the hell you're doing.

Peyton Manning

In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.

Oscar Wilde

One man alone can be pretty dumb sometimes, but for real bona fide stupidity, there ain't nothin' can beat teamwork. 

Edward Abbey

Slow motion goes one of two ways. It either makes it look really, really cool, or it makes it look really, really bad. 

Blake Griffin

The difference between perseverance and obstinacy is that one comes from a strong will, and the other from a strong won't. 

Henry Ward Beecher

The only thing that we cannot control is our supporters. 

Jose Mourinho 

I can bear any pain as long as it has meaning.

Haruki Murakami 

PHOENIX IN THE SKY

If I pray hard enough
Will you come back?
Without you the sun's gone
The skies have turned black.
The rivers have ceased flowing
All lakes have dried up,
The bread has gone stale
No wine in my cup.
The birds have ceased singing
No bees left to hum,
My heart has stopped beating
My mind has gone numb.

I miss you so much
Why did you have to die?
In life you were a butterfly
Now a phoenix in the sky.

I think of you always
I've still a tear in my eye,
I kiss the remaining picture of you
And that's when I cry.
The times we held hands
Walked by the sea on powdery sand,
And all of a sudden
The Lord made his demand.
He wanted a new Angel
To sit by his side,
And he called out to you
The almighty cannot be denied.

But, I miss you so much

WAR BOW

WAR BOW

Bowyers fashioned and carved
A warbow made of the finest yew,
From which a deadly arrow
The bodkin flew.
French Knights in finest armour
In their thousands slew,
By English archers at Agincourt.

The heavy destrier horses
Tried to dash,
Across the mud,
Henrys line to smash.
Into the storm
Flying arrows of ash,
Sent by the English archers at Agincourt.

The deadly war bow
Had won the day,
The common man
Now held sway.
A killing machine
What made King Charles pay,
Destroyed by the English archers at Agincourt.

Hempen string
Woven for power,
In thousands could send
A hail shower.
French men at arms
Could only cower,
Under the barrage from the English archers at Agincourt.

Henry V made
His famous ‘Band of Brothers’,
Train at the ‘Butts’,
Gaining power like no other.
Accuracy which snatched
A son from his mother,
The skilful English archer at Agincourt.

The war bow a symbol
Of the archers might,
The goose feathered darts
An awesome sight.
Piercing armour clad warrior
And mounted knight.
Slain by the English archer at Agincourt.

Today in churchyards
Yews shadows are cast,
Bowyer and Archer are just
Names from the past.
The war bow its place in history
Will always last,
Made legend by the English archer at Agincourt.

“We few, we happy few
We band of brothers
He who sheds blood on the field
With me today,
Shall be my brother”

From Henry V
By
William Shakespeare
Battle of Agincourt 1415.

Phil Hall  March 2103
Copyright:Philthepoet61.blogspot.com
Picture:Phil Hall Crapart 2017 (Dead of Knight)

THE LEGEND OF TOM BAWCOCK

MAGIC OF MOUSEHOLE: FISH PIE.

Kows orthiv yn Korniwek,
As Nyns yw unnyeth lowr.......
(Speak to me in Cornish, as one language is never enough.)

My futtocks suffer with Gwidgee gwees
And the doc he's fay Zam zoodled,
You see am are a tad Figgy hobbin
'Arter zackley teyr bras Oggy.
But the futtocks are true Girt licker
And it'll take time to be Ally cumpooster
The Didikoy doth declare,
I walk, it's said like a Chuggy pig
Or even an ancient, Narky Cannikeeper.
That's better it be than a Kewny Bulorn
A Padgypaw and warty Quilkin,
So I'll stagger my buffers to a Kiddlywink
And drink with gnarled Medhow'd duffers.
The Huer calls "Fumado!!!"
The boats scuttle out on the Oggin,
And the little ones are soon
Smiling up from the crust.

STARGAZY

" Merry place you may believe, tiz Mouzel 'pon Tom Bawcock's eve.
To be then who wouldn't wesh, to sup o' Sibm soorts o' fish
When morgy breath had cleared the path
Corned lances for a fry
And then us had a bit o' scad
And Starry- gazie pie
As aich we'd clunk, E's health we drunk
In bumpers bremmen high."

(Anon, from 17th century legend of a local fisherman, Tom Bawcock, who went fishing and brought back a huge haul of pilchards in terrible weather off the Cornish coast near the little village of Mousehole, pronounced Mouzel).

Phil Hall   October 2017
Copyright: Philthepoet61.blogspot.com
Picture: Crapart Phil Hall 2017

TENDER TOUCH

Oh for your tender touch
That silken wisp of pleasure,
The outpouring of life giving treasure
A parting of sweet tasting skin.
Oh the sound of short lived gasp
The adrenaline rush
The savage crimson gush
As sinew parts within.
Oh for the delicious conclusion
The severing of vertebral bone,
The crowds collective moan
Where eternity does begin.
Oh for that last tender touch
As the blade in flashing fall,
The throat fills with spittle and gall
And the head falls in the bin.

Phil Hall November 2017
Copyright: Philthepoet61.blogspot.com