And suddenly everything can change...
A 6-1 win over Totton, a club three division below us, in the FA Cup second round,followed by a nice little home draw against Premier League opposition Aston Villa, and suddenly things are buzzing around the Mem again.
It's amazing what a good cup draw can do to lift spirits. Not to mention scoring a few goals.
I admit I was viewing last Sunday's match with pure terror.
Driving in to work in London I had the radio on and was listening to Radio 5's afternoon sports coverage, hoping the traffic would ease enough for me to reach work in time for the kick off.
No such luck.
And after just a few minutes there was a quick scoreflash.
Presenter Mark Chapman said: "And already we have news from the Testwood Stadium..."
Aargh! My heart was in my mouth until he said those beautiful words "... and first blood has gone to the League side."
I was just turning into the car park.
By the time I had taken the elevator up four floors to the office, things had changed again.
My mate said as I entered: "...You're three up - and they've all been cracking goals." Damn and blast or, looking at it another way, it probably wouldn't have happened if I had been watching live.
Anyway, it all ended pretty comfortably, apart from an extremely stupid sending off for our substitute Ben Swallow who had only been on the field a handful of minutes.
Mind you, I bet it was a pretty amusing moment for some fellow Gasheads in the local pub. They overheard one elderly lady say to another as they glimpsed the score... "Gosh, that Tottenham HAVE gone downhill in recent years."
To be fair to our manager Paul Buckle, this was a banana skin of epic proportions.
Had he failed to get the players up for it (and we were missing some key players it must be said) then things could have been a whole lot different, and he might have found himself in the unemployment office this week.
As it is the Villa draw will have lifted everyone.
More important to my mind, though, is the buzz it may have given the players because what we REALLY need is a revival in League fortunes... and they won't come any tougher than a home game against our west country rivals Swindon, now managed by the colourful Paolo Di Canio, tomorrow.
Friday, 9 December 2011
Thursday, 1 December 2011
Lost for words
I must admit the death of Gary Speed knocked me for six this week and until now I've had no compunction to write about the relatively insignificant events going on in League 2.
I knew Gary a bit while working as a sports journalist in Wales, and always found him an approachable, polite and unaffected man - as far removed from the egos that regularly make the front pages of our national newspapers these days as you could possibly be.
In fact, I found myself getting angry when the Football Association of Wales chairman Phil Pritchard, paying tribute to Gary, said that Sepp Blatter and the FIFA 'football family' had sent their condolences. That corrupt and hideous organisation wasn't fit to lace his boots. To my mind Gary Speed was the antidote to all the greed and self-interest that exists in world football.
Perhaps my abiding memory was turning up at one of those dinners a bit late and finding that I was the last to arrive at the table. I thought I could sneak in and take my seat without anyone noticing but Gary, who was sitting opposite, got up and leant across the table with his hand outstretched. "Hi, you must be Nick. Nice to meet you. I'm Gary Speed," he said.
I don't think I would have lasted long in the job if I hadn't recognised the captain of the Wales football team for myself.
Anyway, I couldn't write this entry without paying my own respects to a highly under-rated footballer and, better still, a thoroughly decent human being.
My thoughts go out to his family.
Meanwhile, for Bristol Rovers there has been a brief respite in the continuing holler for the head of our manager Paul Buckle.
It has come because the Gas actually managed to force a 1-1 draw at the home of league leaders Southend on Saturday with, by all accounts, a gritty, backs-to-the-wall performance.
Mind you, any brownie points the beleaguered Buckle may have accrued will be swiftly wiped out if we cannot beat the minnows of Totton in the FA Cup second round on Sunday.
The game is being shown on ITV - our chance in the limelight though, unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.
We are on a hiding to nothing and the TV boys know it. Win, and everyone will say it was only Totton. Lose, and the outcry will be huge, the manager's neck ever closer to the guillotine.
Could he survive the ensuing clamour? I'm not sure. Directors have a habit of sticking their fingers in the air, testing which way the wind is blowing and acting accordingly.
That's why, for Paul Buckle, this is possibly his most important weekend since joining the club in the summer.
I knew Gary a bit while working as a sports journalist in Wales, and always found him an approachable, polite and unaffected man - as far removed from the egos that regularly make the front pages of our national newspapers these days as you could possibly be.
In fact, I found myself getting angry when the Football Association of Wales chairman Phil Pritchard, paying tribute to Gary, said that Sepp Blatter and the FIFA 'football family' had sent their condolences. That corrupt and hideous organisation wasn't fit to lace his boots. To my mind Gary Speed was the antidote to all the greed and self-interest that exists in world football.
Perhaps my abiding memory was turning up at one of those dinners a bit late and finding that I was the last to arrive at the table. I thought I could sneak in and take my seat without anyone noticing but Gary, who was sitting opposite, got up and leant across the table with his hand outstretched. "Hi, you must be Nick. Nice to meet you. I'm Gary Speed," he said.
I don't think I would have lasted long in the job if I hadn't recognised the captain of the Wales football team for myself.
Anyway, I couldn't write this entry without paying my own respects to a highly under-rated footballer and, better still, a thoroughly decent human being.
My thoughts go out to his family.
Meanwhile, for Bristol Rovers there has been a brief respite in the continuing holler for the head of our manager Paul Buckle.
It has come because the Gas actually managed to force a 1-1 draw at the home of league leaders Southend on Saturday with, by all accounts, a gritty, backs-to-the-wall performance.
Mind you, any brownie points the beleaguered Buckle may have accrued will be swiftly wiped out if we cannot beat the minnows of Totton in the FA Cup second round on Sunday.
The game is being shown on ITV - our chance in the limelight though, unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.
We are on a hiding to nothing and the TV boys know it. Win, and everyone will say it was only Totton. Lose, and the outcry will be huge, the manager's neck ever closer to the guillotine.
Could he survive the ensuing clamour? I'm not sure. Directors have a habit of sticking their fingers in the air, testing which way the wind is blowing and acting accordingly.
That's why, for Paul Buckle, this is possibly his most important weekend since joining the club in the summer.
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
B's in a pod
THE manager, I'll call him Mr B though many have been calling him a lot of unsavoury things over the past week, now knows he is really up against it.
The honeymoon period is over.
He has come in with a good reputation, but recent results have not been what the fanbase expect.
To be fair, his remit was to change around the whole ethos of the club.
Players on good wages failed to perform last season. There was even talk of a rebellion by some who had loyalties to a previous manager. It is argued that their combined efforts actually got rid of the first guy who came in to replace him and that some players had more influence than the man in charge.
In the summer, the club bought into Mr B's long-term plans for the club. Some players went, new players came in and early results produced some optimism among the faithful.
Now the wheels seem to have come off, there is criticism and questions from all corners, and the issue is being raised... should the new man, after just three months of the season, be sacked?
Interesting.
But I don't really care what Chelsea do about Andre Villas-Boas.
I bet Paul Buckle wishes he had the Chelsea manager's headaches - a pretty bottomless pit of cash, world-class players, a chance to pit your wits against the best teams in the Champions League and an unthinkable fifth place in the Premier League table.
Unfortunately Buckle has a group of hard-working, lower league journeymen trying to turn around an atmosphere of impending doom and a current position of 17th in League Two having lost one of his main strikers and one of his key defenders through injury.
Saturday's result was an absolute nightmare for Buckle. Bristol Rovers 0 Barnet 2.
Just when it looked like Rovers might start feeling more "at home" in front of their home fans, they are turned over by a team who were finding it difficult to extricate themselves from the lower reaches of the table.
Only recently Barnet conceded six goals at home to Burton, yet the Gas couldn't break through their resistance in 98 minutes of football. Not good.
But to blame it all on Buckle is to put up a smokescreen. Four managers have tried to come up with a winning formula at the Mem, five if you include the brief spell under caretaker Darren Patterson. All, so far, have failed.
So do we spin the wheel again?
Some, looking across the city, have seen things change at Ashton Gate.
Bristol City were rock bottom of the Championship a little while ago, but a change of manager has seen them put a run together.
To be fair, though, Keith Millen had been given over a season to get things right, and had made absolutely no progress. A change was due.
Buckle, on the other hand, is a victim of his own early-season optimism. He talked up the team and is now having to backtrack. Lower expectations.
He is a victim of his own press conferences.
But what he really needs is the fans to get behind him - not shout abuse as seems to be the worrying trend at the Mem lately.
In turn he needs to develop a thick skin, a plan of action, and repay the faith the chairman put in him when appointing him to the job in the summer.
Next up it's runaway leaders Southend, away, and on the horizon is a real FA Cup banana skin at Totton.
Time to show us what you're made of, Mr Buckle.
The honeymoon period is over.
He has come in with a good reputation, but recent results have not been what the fanbase expect.
To be fair, his remit was to change around the whole ethos of the club.
Players on good wages failed to perform last season. There was even talk of a rebellion by some who had loyalties to a previous manager. It is argued that their combined efforts actually got rid of the first guy who came in to replace him and that some players had more influence than the man in charge.
In the summer, the club bought into Mr B's long-term plans for the club. Some players went, new players came in and early results produced some optimism among the faithful.
Now the wheels seem to have come off, there is criticism and questions from all corners, and the issue is being raised... should the new man, after just three months of the season, be sacked?
Interesting.
But I don't really care what Chelsea do about Andre Villas-Boas.
I bet Paul Buckle wishes he had the Chelsea manager's headaches - a pretty bottomless pit of cash, world-class players, a chance to pit your wits against the best teams in the Champions League and an unthinkable fifth place in the Premier League table.
Unfortunately Buckle has a group of hard-working, lower league journeymen trying to turn around an atmosphere of impending doom and a current position of 17th in League Two having lost one of his main strikers and one of his key defenders through injury.
Saturday's result was an absolute nightmare for Buckle. Bristol Rovers 0 Barnet 2.
Just when it looked like Rovers might start feeling more "at home" in front of their home fans, they are turned over by a team who were finding it difficult to extricate themselves from the lower reaches of the table.
Only recently Barnet conceded six goals at home to Burton, yet the Gas couldn't break through their resistance in 98 minutes of football. Not good.
But to blame it all on Buckle is to put up a smokescreen. Four managers have tried to come up with a winning formula at the Mem, five if you include the brief spell under caretaker Darren Patterson. All, so far, have failed.
So do we spin the wheel again?
Some, looking across the city, have seen things change at Ashton Gate.
Bristol City were rock bottom of the Championship a little while ago, but a change of manager has seen them put a run together.
To be fair, though, Keith Millen had been given over a season to get things right, and had made absolutely no progress. A change was due.
Buckle, on the other hand, is a victim of his own early-season optimism. He talked up the team and is now having to backtrack. Lower expectations.
He is a victim of his own press conferences.
But what he really needs is the fans to get behind him - not shout abuse as seems to be the worrying trend at the Mem lately.
In turn he needs to develop a thick skin, a plan of action, and repay the faith the chairman put in him when appointing him to the job in the summer.
Next up it's runaway leaders Southend, away, and on the horizon is a real FA Cup banana skin at Totton.
Time to show us what you're made of, Mr Buckle.
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
Big-time Charlies
WELL the mighty Gas are through to the second round of the FA Cup.
We neatly avoided the banana skin that was Conference North side Corby Town 3-1 at the Mem in front of a crowd of less than 4,000.
Still, it's an improvement on last season when our knockout exploits involved a 6-1 defeat at League newbies Oxford United in the Carling Cup and a 2-1 defeat at non-league Darlington in the FA Cup.
And now it is on to Totton, the little-known club from the Evostik Southern League, in the second round for a match that will be screened live on ITV.
Mind you, the victory has scarcelessly lifted the feeling of impending doom among a large proportion of our supporters who see manager Paul Buckle as the anti-christ, hell bent on taking us to oblivion.
Apparently many feel that we should have taken Corby to the cleaners, run up a cricket score and lived up to our reputation of "a big club".
Well, I have to admit I don't know where this notion that we are among football's giants has come from.
You only have to look at our history to see that, traditionally, we have always been a small club punching above our weight.
Which football "giant" has never been in the top division, has spent a huge part of their history renting their ground from first a greyhound company and then a neighbouring non-league club, and whose biggest signing cost £350,000?
In fact, one of the reasons I supported the Gas in the first place was that we DIDN'T portray this Billy Big B******* attitude.
For years our neighbours across the city have lived on their success back in the 70s when they managed to reach the top flight and survive there for a couple of seasons. We have always jeered at their "Sleeping Giants" attitude, poked fun at the idea that they think they have some kind of divine right to be up among the Manchester United's and Chelsea's of this world.
We at Rovers were a band of brothers, united in a kind of Us against the World mentality, able to joke at our misfortunes and treat success as the imposter it was.
I don't know, maybe the fact we have managed to reach Wembley a few times, and in 2007 actually played at the new stadium AND Cardiff's Millennium in the same season, made younger supporters feel we were bigger than we were.
And certainly we have always had a big fan base - not mirrored in our home attendances but a reflection of the highly populated area from which we come.
But having a reasonable supporter base is no guarantee of success as the two Sheffield clubs will be quick to verify.
On the other hand, glory for teams without their attributes is not out of the question. Who would have thought 20 years ago that the likes of Wigan and Swansea would be gracing the Premier League?
So isn't it time for a dose of reality and to get back to what we do best? The words are there in our club anthem Goodnight Irene: We're Loyal Supporters, Faithful and True, we always follow, the Boys in Blue".
Looking through those words I find no mention of: "unless we are struggling to overcome "little" clubs like Hereford and Macclesfield".
We have no god-given right to beat anyone, or win anything.
But one more win in the FA Cup and who knows what may lie ahead in the third round?
I recall our play-off season five years ago and a trip to Derby, where we played brilliantly only to lose in the last few minutes after having a player sent off.
That performance sparked us on a brilliant run in the league, eventually leading to our fantastic day out at Wembley.
On that day at Pride Park our support was fantastic, a story of Gasheads all pulling together against the odds because we were the underdogs and didn't expect to win.
A bit more of that attitude, and a bit less of the "Big Club Syndrome", is just what we need right now.
We neatly avoided the banana skin that was Conference North side Corby Town 3-1 at the Mem in front of a crowd of less than 4,000.
Still, it's an improvement on last season when our knockout exploits involved a 6-1 defeat at League newbies Oxford United in the Carling Cup and a 2-1 defeat at non-league Darlington in the FA Cup.
And now it is on to Totton, the little-known club from the Evostik Southern League, in the second round for a match that will be screened live on ITV.
Mind you, the victory has scarcelessly lifted the feeling of impending doom among a large proportion of our supporters who see manager Paul Buckle as the anti-christ, hell bent on taking us to oblivion.
Apparently many feel that we should have taken Corby to the cleaners, run up a cricket score and lived up to our reputation of "a big club".
Well, I have to admit I don't know where this notion that we are among football's giants has come from.
You only have to look at our history to see that, traditionally, we have always been a small club punching above our weight.
Which football "giant" has never been in the top division, has spent a huge part of their history renting their ground from first a greyhound company and then a neighbouring non-league club, and whose biggest signing cost £350,000?
In fact, one of the reasons I supported the Gas in the first place was that we DIDN'T portray this Billy Big B******* attitude.
For years our neighbours across the city have lived on their success back in the 70s when they managed to reach the top flight and survive there for a couple of seasons. We have always jeered at their "Sleeping Giants" attitude, poked fun at the idea that they think they have some kind of divine right to be up among the Manchester United's and Chelsea's of this world.
We at Rovers were a band of brothers, united in a kind of Us against the World mentality, able to joke at our misfortunes and treat success as the imposter it was.
I don't know, maybe the fact we have managed to reach Wembley a few times, and in 2007 actually played at the new stadium AND Cardiff's Millennium in the same season, made younger supporters feel we were bigger than we were.
And certainly we have always had a big fan base - not mirrored in our home attendances but a reflection of the highly populated area from which we come.
But having a reasonable supporter base is no guarantee of success as the two Sheffield clubs will be quick to verify.
On the other hand, glory for teams without their attributes is not out of the question. Who would have thought 20 years ago that the likes of Wigan and Swansea would be gracing the Premier League?
So isn't it time for a dose of reality and to get back to what we do best? The words are there in our club anthem Goodnight Irene: We're Loyal Supporters, Faithful and True, we always follow, the Boys in Blue".
Looking through those words I find no mention of: "unless we are struggling to overcome "little" clubs like Hereford and Macclesfield".
We have no god-given right to beat anyone, or win anything.
But one more win in the FA Cup and who knows what may lie ahead in the third round?
I recall our play-off season five years ago and a trip to Derby, where we played brilliantly only to lose in the last few minutes after having a player sent off.
That performance sparked us on a brilliant run in the league, eventually leading to our fantastic day out at Wembley.
On that day at Pride Park our support was fantastic, a story of Gasheads all pulling together against the odds because we were the underdogs and didn't expect to win.
A bit more of that attitude, and a bit less of the "Big Club Syndrome", is just what we need right now.
Friday, 11 November 2011
Dor blimey
PAUL BUCKLE must have had a busy week.
I can only imagine the Bristol Rovers manager was getting up in the early hours, driving to London, then touring local newsagents.
Armed only with a pair of scissors, the dedicated Buckle must have then blown all the spare cash from his astronomical salary buying up the daily newspapers.
Then, having completed the first part of his task, I imagine he went back to his car and sat there physically cutting out EVERY League One and Two table in print.
How else could he have conned our new loan signing Andy Dorman to join us by misleading him into thinking we were still a League One club?
A daft and fanciful notion?
Not for some it would seem.
Because the much maligned Buckle HAS been blamed in certain quarters for the fact that the Crystal Palace midfielder didn't know which division we were in.
Admittedly, we are 16th in League Two and hardly pulling up trees.
Some supporters who have been exiled in unchartered territory - the Amazon rainforest or deepest, darkest Africa perhaps - might think we have dropped off the face of the earth when they return to the civilised world.
Think of that British boy in Germany who suddenly turned up at a police station after being marooned in a forest for 16 years. If he was a Rovers supporter he would be painstakingly scanning the Championship and League One tables wondering where his beloved Gas had gone.
But that's hardly ALL Mr Buckle's fault, is it?
What are we going to blame him for next? The crisis of the Euro? Michael Jackson's demise? Frankie's exit from X factor and the Bieber baby?
If Dorman didn't realise what division we were in then that's his lookout. To be honest, I am still trying to get my head around our current lowly status myself.
But please, please, please can we stop trying to lay every problem at the manager's door.
I can only imagine the Bristol Rovers manager was getting up in the early hours, driving to London, then touring local newsagents.
Armed only with a pair of scissors, the dedicated Buckle must have then blown all the spare cash from his astronomical salary buying up the daily newspapers.
Then, having completed the first part of his task, I imagine he went back to his car and sat there physically cutting out EVERY League One and Two table in print.
How else could he have conned our new loan signing Andy Dorman to join us by misleading him into thinking we were still a League One club?
A daft and fanciful notion?
Not for some it would seem.
Because the much maligned Buckle HAS been blamed in certain quarters for the fact that the Crystal Palace midfielder didn't know which division we were in.
Admittedly, we are 16th in League Two and hardly pulling up trees.
Some supporters who have been exiled in unchartered territory - the Amazon rainforest or deepest, darkest Africa perhaps - might think we have dropped off the face of the earth when they return to the civilised world.
Think of that British boy in Germany who suddenly turned up at a police station after being marooned in a forest for 16 years. If he was a Rovers supporter he would be painstakingly scanning the Championship and League One tables wondering where his beloved Gas had gone.
But that's hardly ALL Mr Buckle's fault, is it?
What are we going to blame him for next? The crisis of the Euro? Michael Jackson's demise? Frankie's exit from X factor and the Bieber baby?
If Dorman didn't realise what division we were in then that's his lookout. To be honest, I am still trying to get my head around our current lowly status myself.
But please, please, please can we stop trying to lay every problem at the manager's door.
Sunday, 6 November 2011
Mr Popular
A knight of the realm, who today celebrates 25 years of management at the same football club, once said: "Football, bloody hell!"
He should be a Bristol Rovers supporter.
Because these days I spent most of my time saying "Football, *!+&@!!*&=@!!"
Having beaten the powerhouse that is Dagenham and Redbridge last week, we Gasheads had to once again endure the frustration of losing the following week - this time 2-1to the almighty Accrington Stanley.
Our manager Paul Buckle and chairman Nick Higgs had both spent the week talking about the next target being "Back-to-back" wins, but within five minutes those plans had been ripped up as our defence stood aside and waved an 18-year-old through to score the home side's opener.
Honestly, it reminded me of the time when I played for my dad's cricket team at the age of 11 and, when going out to bat, the pace bowler came in off a 2-step run-up and delivered a slow bouncing ball underarm.
Did someone in our back four shout: "Give him a chance, he's only young"? because that's what it looked like on the Football League highlights.
After 30 minutes we were 2-0 down and then - as seems to happen too often these days - we managed to get a goal back early in the second half, just to tease us into believing we could actually get something out of the game.
Of course, it didn't happen, leaving me even more deflated than if we had been thoroughly trounced... at least I became almost immune to that last season.
And so, once again, those fans who were quite excited at the new era promised by Mr Buckle are now demanding that he is driven all the way back to Torquay pronto - even if the one-way ticket would cost us a small fortune.
Hmm.
It doesn't make it any easier that one of the players Buckle let go - Jo Kuffour - is now scoring goals for fun for one of our League 2 rivals Gillingham.
"Sod off Buckle, come back Jo," seems to be the common thread on the forums.
So let's return to that knight of the realm.
When Sir Alex Ferguson took over at Manchester United - a club, believe it or not, with a few more coppers in the kitty than we have at the Memorial Stadium - did he build a team in four months? Was he running away with the First Division after 17 games? Did all the players he enlisted turn up and play like world beaters straight away?
The answer to those questions is no, no and no.
In fact, it took the red-nosed one four years to win his first trophy - the FA Cup - and SEVEN YEARS to land his first Premiership trophy.
I think we all know what he has done since then.
And what about players? I recall Gary Pallister and Paul Ince both having nightmares in their first season.
Has the bloke been spot on with all his signings? Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Eric Djemba-Djemba, Bebe and Juan Sebastien Veron. And there are many more.
Of course, if you're manager of Bristol Rovers you cannot afford to make such mistakes in the transfer market.
But you can't keep demanding a change in the manager every time things don't go the way you like.
Some fans will argue that Rovers, in that case, should have stuck with Paul Trollope.
But the truth was he HAD been given a reasonable amount of time to establish us in League One and though some claim he had managed to do that, results had been on a serious downward curve for a long time when he departed.
We can all get frustrated, angry, bemused about the current situation.
We don't like being in League 2. And there is a certain snobbishness about us which says that a better fan base should guarantee us success against the Dagenhams and Accrington's of this world.
But, as we know to our cost the last time we were down here, it doesn't work like that.
At the start of the season our board took the plunge, appointed an up-and-coming highly-rated young manager and asked him to turn things around.
As far as I know we didn't say "Turn things around by November, but don't get rid of any fans favourites, and make sure everyone you sign will be an instant success."
To my mind he can get rid of who he likes, when he likes - as long as he has a long-term vision for the club.
For our part, we have to give the manager and team our wholehearted support.
And, I'll be honest, I don't particularly like Paul Buckle.
I don't like the way he makes excuses, or the way he looks away from the camera with a smirk when answering certain questions. If I know anything about body language it suggests he may be being a bit disingenuous in what he says.
But then again football management isn't a popularity contest.
Is it, Sir Alex?
He should be a Bristol Rovers supporter.
Because these days I spent most of my time saying "Football, *!+&@!!*&=@!!"
Having beaten the powerhouse that is Dagenham and Redbridge last week, we Gasheads had to once again endure the frustration of losing the following week - this time 2-1to the almighty Accrington Stanley.
Our manager Paul Buckle and chairman Nick Higgs had both spent the week talking about the next target being "Back-to-back" wins, but within five minutes those plans had been ripped up as our defence stood aside and waved an 18-year-old through to score the home side's opener.
Honestly, it reminded me of the time when I played for my dad's cricket team at the age of 11 and, when going out to bat, the pace bowler came in off a 2-step run-up and delivered a slow bouncing ball underarm.
Did someone in our back four shout: "Give him a chance, he's only young"? because that's what it looked like on the Football League highlights.
After 30 minutes we were 2-0 down and then - as seems to happen too often these days - we managed to get a goal back early in the second half, just to tease us into believing we could actually get something out of the game.
Of course, it didn't happen, leaving me even more deflated than if we had been thoroughly trounced... at least I became almost immune to that last season.
And so, once again, those fans who were quite excited at the new era promised by Mr Buckle are now demanding that he is driven all the way back to Torquay pronto - even if the one-way ticket would cost us a small fortune.
Hmm.
It doesn't make it any easier that one of the players Buckle let go - Jo Kuffour - is now scoring goals for fun for one of our League 2 rivals Gillingham.
"Sod off Buckle, come back Jo," seems to be the common thread on the forums.
So let's return to that knight of the realm.
When Sir Alex Ferguson took over at Manchester United - a club, believe it or not, with a few more coppers in the kitty than we have at the Memorial Stadium - did he build a team in four months? Was he running away with the First Division after 17 games? Did all the players he enlisted turn up and play like world beaters straight away?
The answer to those questions is no, no and no.
In fact, it took the red-nosed one four years to win his first trophy - the FA Cup - and SEVEN YEARS to land his first Premiership trophy.
I think we all know what he has done since then.
And what about players? I recall Gary Pallister and Paul Ince both having nightmares in their first season.
Has the bloke been spot on with all his signings? Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Eric Djemba-Djemba, Bebe and Juan Sebastien Veron. And there are many more.
Of course, if you're manager of Bristol Rovers you cannot afford to make such mistakes in the transfer market.
But you can't keep demanding a change in the manager every time things don't go the way you like.
Some fans will argue that Rovers, in that case, should have stuck with Paul Trollope.
But the truth was he HAD been given a reasonable amount of time to establish us in League One and though some claim he had managed to do that, results had been on a serious downward curve for a long time when he departed.
We can all get frustrated, angry, bemused about the current situation.
We don't like being in League 2. And there is a certain snobbishness about us which says that a better fan base should guarantee us success against the Dagenhams and Accrington's of this world.
But, as we know to our cost the last time we were down here, it doesn't work like that.
At the start of the season our board took the plunge, appointed an up-and-coming highly-rated young manager and asked him to turn things around.
As far as I know we didn't say "Turn things around by November, but don't get rid of any fans favourites, and make sure everyone you sign will be an instant success."
To my mind he can get rid of who he likes, when he likes - as long as he has a long-term vision for the club.
For our part, we have to give the manager and team our wholehearted support.
And, I'll be honest, I don't particularly like Paul Buckle.
I don't like the way he makes excuses, or the way he looks away from the camera with a smirk when answering certain questions. If I know anything about body language it suggests he may be being a bit disingenuous in what he says.
But then again football management isn't a popularity contest.
Is it, Sir Alex?
Sunday, 30 October 2011
All in a Stu
EIGHT months ago Colonel Gaddafi was probably sitting on his balcony, quaffing cocktails, looking over his kingdom and planning to rule for another 20 years.
Meanwhile, New Zealanders were considering how they were going to rebuild after the Christchurch earthquake.
And Rene Howe was scoring the only goal for Bristol Rovers in a 1-0 home win over Oldham which manager Dave Penney hoped would be the start of our escape from League One relegation.
How far we have come since then. Gaddafi deposed, New Zealand are up and running again and have staged a successful rugby World Cup and Bristol Rovers are two managers down the line and in a lower division.
On Saturday, under our latest boss Paul Buckle, we finally managed to win our first Saturday home game since that February triumph over mighty Oldham.
For we Gasheads it should be a monumental moment.
Flags should be hanging from the rafters, cars should be tooting their horns, a party should be going on in Eastville Park.
But the mood seems to be pretty subdued.
It was only Dagenham, for starters.
We beat them 2-0 with Joe Anyinsah and a Matt Harrold penalty giving us a vital three points.
But they are being labelled "the worst team to play at the Memorial Stadium since 1884" and shouldn't be fit to lace our boots.
Hmm. The same Dagenham, I recall, who won 2-0 at the Mem last season and signalled the end of the Penney era.
Not only that but it appears our much-loved midfielder Stuart Campbell could be leaving the club, even though he claims he doesn't want to go.
So at a time when Rovers fans should have been willing their team to hold on to a desperately needed three points, some of them preferred to sing "There's Only One Stuart Campbell".
Interesting choice of song, when Campbell wasn't even in the side and the XI players ON the pitch needed every bit of encouragement from the crowd.
It's ok, though.
We held on and are now up to the lofty position of 15th.
Buckle shouldn't be too bothered about the Campbell chants.
He seems thick-skinned enough to take it on the chin, carry on the way he sees fit and ride out the unrest.
But whether this response is helpful to all our new players is open to question.
I am not sure if I was Craig Stanley or skipper Matt Gill I would find it particularly encouraging when I was working my guts out to ensure we began to revive the club's fortunes.
No matter.
To my mind, if Campbell stays or if he goes is a matter for the manager alone.
After all, it is his head on the block at the end of the day.
And if he feels the club's future is better served by cutting the ties and letting "Grandad" go, then that's what he should do.
But before he departs wouldn't it be nice if the club did something to reward his services.
A testimonial perhaps, to allow fans to say goodbye to him in the proper way...
Meanwhile, New Zealanders were considering how they were going to rebuild after the Christchurch earthquake.
And Rene Howe was scoring the only goal for Bristol Rovers in a 1-0 home win over Oldham which manager Dave Penney hoped would be the start of our escape from League One relegation.
How far we have come since then. Gaddafi deposed, New Zealand are up and running again and have staged a successful rugby World Cup and Bristol Rovers are two managers down the line and in a lower division.
On Saturday, under our latest boss Paul Buckle, we finally managed to win our first Saturday home game since that February triumph over mighty Oldham.
For we Gasheads it should be a monumental moment.
Flags should be hanging from the rafters, cars should be tooting their horns, a party should be going on in Eastville Park.
But the mood seems to be pretty subdued.
It was only Dagenham, for starters.
We beat them 2-0 with Joe Anyinsah and a Matt Harrold penalty giving us a vital three points.
But they are being labelled "the worst team to play at the Memorial Stadium since 1884" and shouldn't be fit to lace our boots.
Hmm. The same Dagenham, I recall, who won 2-0 at the Mem last season and signalled the end of the Penney era.
Not only that but it appears our much-loved midfielder Stuart Campbell could be leaving the club, even though he claims he doesn't want to go.
So at a time when Rovers fans should have been willing their team to hold on to a desperately needed three points, some of them preferred to sing "There's Only One Stuart Campbell".
Interesting choice of song, when Campbell wasn't even in the side and the XI players ON the pitch needed every bit of encouragement from the crowd.
It's ok, though.
We held on and are now up to the lofty position of 15th.
Buckle shouldn't be too bothered about the Campbell chants.
He seems thick-skinned enough to take it on the chin, carry on the way he sees fit and ride out the unrest.
But whether this response is helpful to all our new players is open to question.
I am not sure if I was Craig Stanley or skipper Matt Gill I would find it particularly encouraging when I was working my guts out to ensure we began to revive the club's fortunes.
No matter.
To my mind, if Campbell stays or if he goes is a matter for the manager alone.
After all, it is his head on the block at the end of the day.
And if he feels the club's future is better served by cutting the ties and letting "Grandad" go, then that's what he should do.
But before he departs wouldn't it be nice if the club did something to reward his services.
A testimonial perhaps, to allow fans to say goodbye to him in the proper way...
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Vale of Silence
WENT to watch a game of football last night.
Ended up at a sponsored silence.
Everywhere I looked told me that Bristol Rovers were playing at home to Port Vale at the Memorial Stadium.
That's Bristol Rovers, the team that had won their last game at the Mem 5-2.
But although there were over 5,000 people there and everyone appeared to be decked in blue and white I felt more like I was on a visit to the City Morgue (and I DON'T mean Ashton Gate).
It wasn't helped when some people ran onto the green expanse of grass in front of the crowd.
Because even though there was a football involved, only one team seemed intent on passing it, moving and playing to any sort of pattern and plan.
That wasn't the team in the blue and white quarters.
And as the team that did turn up then went and put three goals into the net opposite them, the tumbleweed rolled along the terraces and the eery silence grew.
I don't know how much would have been raised for 86 minutes but eventually the crowd could wait no more. They decided it was time to shout.
And, remarkably, they all said the same thing at once.
"What a load of rubbish, what a load of rubbish, what a load of rubbish".
Then I realised. The small man in front of me was Bristol Rovers manager Paul Buckle.
The immoveable objects on the pitch were my beloved Gas.
I'm at a loss to sum up what is happening at Rovers at the moment.
The fans, who had bought into the idea that Dr Buckle would create an instant remedy to everything that ailed us last season, are now realising that his tonic has serious side effects.
One of them is that you cannot expect to replace a whole team of players with another 11 people and then think everything will be hunky dory.
The other is that you cannot keep falling out with the ones you have brought in, chopping and changing them at every opportunity, and then expect them to perform for you on the pitch.
I thought Buckle had it right in pre-season. He had bought some good players who were going to work hard, but he also had given them the remit to play attacking, stylish football.
He had signed two wingers abundant with pace and trickery, a proven goalscorer and a target man.
But it seems to me that very early on he lost his way.
And now he is having trouble finding it again.
He can't keep saying he has been unable to play a settled side when it seems to me he hasn't decided what pattern or team he wants to play in any given game.
What he needs to do is establish a style best suited to his players and stick with it.
Mind you, it isn't helped by the all-pervading gloom that seems to surround the Mem these days.
Ok, we lost to Burton at the weekend but weren't in a bad position overall.
Some of our supporters should stop thinking we have some divine right to turn up and win matches, just because we are a division lower this term.
The amount of negativity surrounding me, even before kick off, was pretty staggering.
I'd set off with enthusiasm because I had missed a fair few games through work commitments.
But already I found my mood brought down by the stream of downbeat comments from the Gasheads surrounding me.
I remember when, even in our worst hour, we used to create an atmosphere - even if it involved chanting "(insert manager's name here)'s Blue and White Army" for the whole of the second half.
Not now.
Barely a whimper before the match.
And already you could sense the tension of both supporters and players.
As for the manager, they are demanding his head on a platter already. I am not one of them.
But what Buckle must do is take a good look in the mirror. He can blame the players, the wet grass and the supporters as much as he likes.
It is time he stood up, took the criticism and decided what he is going to do about it.
He should establish how he wants to play and which players he needs to carry out his plans... it seems pointless, for instance, to bring on two wingers as he did last night, play one down the middle and withdraw our most creative midfielder, Matt Gill, to full back.
I still believe he has a decent squad of players.
It's HIS job to man up, shut up and get the best out of them.
AN UNRESERVED APOLOGY: I may have given the impression in my last entry that Uncle Albert was to blame for our "losing mentality". Well, he was nowhere near the dug out yesterday and, apart from Byron Anthony and Gary Sawyer, neither were any of last year's team.
I now fully accept that Uncle Albert is NOT responsible for this problem...
Ended up at a sponsored silence.
Everywhere I looked told me that Bristol Rovers were playing at home to Port Vale at the Memorial Stadium.
That's Bristol Rovers, the team that had won their last game at the Mem 5-2.
But although there were over 5,000 people there and everyone appeared to be decked in blue and white I felt more like I was on a visit to the City Morgue (and I DON'T mean Ashton Gate).
It wasn't helped when some people ran onto the green expanse of grass in front of the crowd.
Because even though there was a football involved, only one team seemed intent on passing it, moving and playing to any sort of pattern and plan.
That wasn't the team in the blue and white quarters.
And as the team that did turn up then went and put three goals into the net opposite them, the tumbleweed rolled along the terraces and the eery silence grew.
I don't know how much would have been raised for 86 minutes but eventually the crowd could wait no more. They decided it was time to shout.
And, remarkably, they all said the same thing at once.
"What a load of rubbish, what a load of rubbish, what a load of rubbish".
Then I realised. The small man in front of me was Bristol Rovers manager Paul Buckle.
The immoveable objects on the pitch were my beloved Gas.
I'm at a loss to sum up what is happening at Rovers at the moment.
The fans, who had bought into the idea that Dr Buckle would create an instant remedy to everything that ailed us last season, are now realising that his tonic has serious side effects.
One of them is that you cannot expect to replace a whole team of players with another 11 people and then think everything will be hunky dory.
The other is that you cannot keep falling out with the ones you have brought in, chopping and changing them at every opportunity, and then expect them to perform for you on the pitch.
I thought Buckle had it right in pre-season. He had bought some good players who were going to work hard, but he also had given them the remit to play attacking, stylish football.
He had signed two wingers abundant with pace and trickery, a proven goalscorer and a target man.
But it seems to me that very early on he lost his way.
And now he is having trouble finding it again.
He can't keep saying he has been unable to play a settled side when it seems to me he hasn't decided what pattern or team he wants to play in any given game.
What he needs to do is establish a style best suited to his players and stick with it.
Mind you, it isn't helped by the all-pervading gloom that seems to surround the Mem these days.
Ok, we lost to Burton at the weekend but weren't in a bad position overall.
Some of our supporters should stop thinking we have some divine right to turn up and win matches, just because we are a division lower this term.
The amount of negativity surrounding me, even before kick off, was pretty staggering.
I'd set off with enthusiasm because I had missed a fair few games through work commitments.
But already I found my mood brought down by the stream of downbeat comments from the Gasheads surrounding me.
I remember when, even in our worst hour, we used to create an atmosphere - even if it involved chanting "(insert manager's name here)'s Blue and White Army" for the whole of the second half.
Not now.
Barely a whimper before the match.
And already you could sense the tension of both supporters and players.
As for the manager, they are demanding his head on a platter already. I am not one of them.
But what Buckle must do is take a good look in the mirror. He can blame the players, the wet grass and the supporters as much as he likes.
It is time he stood up, took the criticism and decided what he is going to do about it.
He should establish how he wants to play and which players he needs to carry out his plans... it seems pointless, for instance, to bring on two wingers as he did last night, play one down the middle and withdraw our most creative midfielder, Matt Gill, to full back.
I still believe he has a decent squad of players.
It's HIS job to man up, shut up and get the best out of them.
AN UNRESERVED APOLOGY: I may have given the impression in my last entry that Uncle Albert was to blame for our "losing mentality". Well, he was nowhere near the dug out yesterday and, apart from Byron Anthony and Gary Sawyer, neither were any of last year's team.
I now fully accept that Uncle Albert is NOT responsible for this problem...
Only Fools and Kit men
IT was a weekend full of shocks.
The mighty Manchester United were beaten 6-1 at home by their noisy neighbours, QPR overcame the power of Chelsea and Arsenal left their main man van Persie on the subs bench.
Oh, and Bristol Rovers lost 2-1 at Burton.
Shock?
Well, if you listen to some Gasheads you would think it was on a par with Wimbledon beating Liverpool in the FA Cup final.
Not to me, it wasn't.
The one consistent thing about Rovers at the moment is there inconsistency.
Even so, I was a bit surprised at the latest excuse coming out of the mouth of our manager Paul Buckle.
I have already alluded to the fact that I am not overly convinced about his statements in the press.
But the latest one, that he is still trying to turn around a losing mentality at the club, is pretty hard to swallow.
After all, he has got rid of most of last year's losers and replaced them with an entirely new set of players.
Is he talking about goalkeeper Scott Bevan or striker Chris Zebroski, who he brought with him from Torquay?
Unlikely. They both reached the play-offs last year and Bevan kept a record of clean sheets that went a long way to putting them there.
So what about our defenders? Fullback Lee Brown may not have played much last season but he was at a club - QPR - which must have been full of positive energy as they romped away with the Championship title.
Youngster Michael Smith was in Ireland getting rave reviews with Ballymena while centre back Cian Bolger, who was brought back after a loan spell with us last season, must be doing something right or we would have left him at Leicester.
Our captain Matt Gill was at another promoted team - Norwich - while up front Scott McGleish was part of an Orient side who built on a magnificent cup run by just missing out on the League One play-offs. His partner Matt Harrold suffered a similar fate in League Two with Shrewsbury.
That leaves last year's caretaker player manager Stuart Campbell, who tried his best to keep Rovers up all to no avail. I would be surprised if it was him, though, because Buckle is talking about promoting him to the coaching side and has made him an ever-present in recent weeks.
Gary Sawyer can hardly take the blame because he has been injured most of the season while Byron Anthony, another of last season's regulars, hasn't even been getting in the squad.
So is the losing mentality down to the management team?
Wouldn't have thought so. Buckle and his assistant Shaun North were in charge of Torquay as they marched to the play-off final.
The chairman Nick Higgs, rather than harbouring a losing mentality, has dug deep to enable them to change the whole ethos of the team, putting his money where his mouth is to sanction a new manager and a host of new signings.
The fans? Well, most of us seemed convinced that the goings-on in the summer had guaranteed we would walk back into League One without challenge.
That leaves physio Phil Kite and the affectionately nicknamed Uncle Albert, the kit man.
I think it must be Albert's fault. Not only does he look like the accident-prone character from Only Fools and Horses, but he must go around in the background with an air of defeatism that makes Dad's Army's Corporal Frazier positively optimistic.
"We're ALLLLL DOOOOOMED," Uncle Albert must be whispering to the players the moment Buckle's back is turned.
What other reason could there be for this "Losing Mentality"?
I think I've stumbled on a plan to get us back up challenging for promotion. It's quite simple, really. Make every home game an evening kick-off.
Rovers are unbeaten at home when a match has started under floodlights. We've won all three of our league games - Northampton (2-1), Shrewsbury (1-0) and Rotherham (5-2). In our one cup game, at home to Championship Watford, we drew 1-1 but went on to win on penalties.
There must be something about our players that, like some kind of hallucogenic plant, reacts positively to artificial light.
I hope the run continues. We could really do with a win at home to Port Vale tonight.
The mighty Manchester United were beaten 6-1 at home by their noisy neighbours, QPR overcame the power of Chelsea and Arsenal left their main man van Persie on the subs bench.
Oh, and Bristol Rovers lost 2-1 at Burton.
Shock?
Well, if you listen to some Gasheads you would think it was on a par with Wimbledon beating Liverpool in the FA Cup final.
Not to me, it wasn't.
The one consistent thing about Rovers at the moment is there inconsistency.
Even so, I was a bit surprised at the latest excuse coming out of the mouth of our manager Paul Buckle.
I have already alluded to the fact that I am not overly convinced about his statements in the press.
But the latest one, that he is still trying to turn around a losing mentality at the club, is pretty hard to swallow.
After all, he has got rid of most of last year's losers and replaced them with an entirely new set of players.
Is he talking about goalkeeper Scott Bevan or striker Chris Zebroski, who he brought with him from Torquay?
Unlikely. They both reached the play-offs last year and Bevan kept a record of clean sheets that went a long way to putting them there.
So what about our defenders? Fullback Lee Brown may not have played much last season but he was at a club - QPR - which must have been full of positive energy as they romped away with the Championship title.
Youngster Michael Smith was in Ireland getting rave reviews with Ballymena while centre back Cian Bolger, who was brought back after a loan spell with us last season, must be doing something right or we would have left him at Leicester.
Our captain Matt Gill was at another promoted team - Norwich - while up front Scott McGleish was part of an Orient side who built on a magnificent cup run by just missing out on the League One play-offs. His partner Matt Harrold suffered a similar fate in League Two with Shrewsbury.
That leaves last year's caretaker player manager Stuart Campbell, who tried his best to keep Rovers up all to no avail. I would be surprised if it was him, though, because Buckle is talking about promoting him to the coaching side and has made him an ever-present in recent weeks.
Gary Sawyer can hardly take the blame because he has been injured most of the season while Byron Anthony, another of last season's regulars, hasn't even been getting in the squad.
So is the losing mentality down to the management team?
Wouldn't have thought so. Buckle and his assistant Shaun North were in charge of Torquay as they marched to the play-off final.
The chairman Nick Higgs, rather than harbouring a losing mentality, has dug deep to enable them to change the whole ethos of the team, putting his money where his mouth is to sanction a new manager and a host of new signings.
The fans? Well, most of us seemed convinced that the goings-on in the summer had guaranteed we would walk back into League One without challenge.
That leaves physio Phil Kite and the affectionately nicknamed Uncle Albert, the kit man.
I think it must be Albert's fault. Not only does he look like the accident-prone character from Only Fools and Horses, but he must go around in the background with an air of defeatism that makes Dad's Army's Corporal Frazier positively optimistic.
"We're ALLLLL DOOOOOMED," Uncle Albert must be whispering to the players the moment Buckle's back is turned.
What other reason could there be for this "Losing Mentality"?
I think I've stumbled on a plan to get us back up challenging for promotion. It's quite simple, really. Make every home game an evening kick-off.
Rovers are unbeaten at home when a match has started under floodlights. We've won all three of our league games - Northampton (2-1), Shrewsbury (1-0) and Rotherham (5-2). In our one cup game, at home to Championship Watford, we drew 1-1 but went on to win on penalties.
There must be something about our players that, like some kind of hallucogenic plant, reacts positively to artificial light.
I hope the run continues. We could really do with a win at home to Port Vale tonight.
Sunday, 16 October 2011
Tweet of the Year
I've become a bit of a tweeter.
And the trouble with tweeting is you can sometimes look like a complete twit.
At around 7.30pm on Friday night I was sitting at my work station at a national newspaper - wishing I was somewhere else.
Around 150 miles away as it happens.
At the Mem to watch Bristol Rovers play Rotherham in a League Two clash of the giants.
Well, clash of the rapidly shrinking giants if our recent records were anything to go by with both sides having failed to record a win in four successive games.
I can't even say I was quietly confident after our recent two performances - particularly the 3-1 home defeat to mighty Cheltenham a fortnight earlier.
But, still.
We had virtually a full squad to pick from and our manager, Paul Buckle, was confident.
He insisted that he no longer had to play square pegs in round holes and that he could pick exactly the team he wanted.
Logging on to twitter, I saw that the team had been announced.
And, I must admit, was particularly underwhelmed.
Not, I will hastily add, about the fact he had chosen three men across the middle of the park in the form of Stuart Campbell, Matt Gill and Craig Stanley.
But because he was playing a left back at centre half and three strikers, none of whom had any experience of playing out wide.
Unable to contain myself, I tweeted.
"Question 3 strikers & no width. Bizarre bench too. One defender and four strikers - heaven forbid we have any injuries."
RESULT: Mighty Gas 5, Yorkshire puddings 2
My next tweet? "How dare I question the tactics and formation of the great Paul Buckle *slaps wrist*"
It's got to be said that the man appears to have redeemed himself in the eyes of our rather restless bunch.
By all accounts it was a very impressive performance, though it's got to be said that one big victory doesn't guarantee a promotion run.
And, stealing the nickname given to the former Chelsea boss Claudio Ranieri, I think Mr Buckle is a bit of a tinkerman.
Nothing else can really explain why he has on occasion played our most dangerous goalscoring threat Scott McGleish out wide.
McGleish, returned to his favoured position up front, scored two of the five goals on Friday and must stay up front.
Still, can't grumble.
We have now reached the lofty heights of 14th and improved our goal difference, to boot.
And for once I've been able to enjoy a long weekend without having to worry about the state of my magnificent football club.
In fact, Saturday was pretty enjoyable all round: I wasn't sat, biting my nails, trying to follow the Gas on a slow time BBC feed.
I was relaxed, laidback and carefree.
A state that almost accended into Utopia when one particular football result came through: Bristol City 1 Peterborough 2.
Oh my.
And the trouble with tweeting is you can sometimes look like a complete twit.
At around 7.30pm on Friday night I was sitting at my work station at a national newspaper - wishing I was somewhere else.
Around 150 miles away as it happens.
At the Mem to watch Bristol Rovers play Rotherham in a League Two clash of the giants.
Well, clash of the rapidly shrinking giants if our recent records were anything to go by with both sides having failed to record a win in four successive games.
I can't even say I was quietly confident after our recent two performances - particularly the 3-1 home defeat to mighty Cheltenham a fortnight earlier.
But, still.
We had virtually a full squad to pick from and our manager, Paul Buckle, was confident.
He insisted that he no longer had to play square pegs in round holes and that he could pick exactly the team he wanted.
Logging on to twitter, I saw that the team had been announced.
And, I must admit, was particularly underwhelmed.
Not, I will hastily add, about the fact he had chosen three men across the middle of the park in the form of Stuart Campbell, Matt Gill and Craig Stanley.
But because he was playing a left back at centre half and three strikers, none of whom had any experience of playing out wide.
Unable to contain myself, I tweeted.
"Question 3 strikers & no width. Bizarre bench too. One defender and four strikers - heaven forbid we have any injuries."
RESULT: Mighty Gas 5, Yorkshire puddings 2
My next tweet? "How dare I question the tactics and formation of the great Paul Buckle *slaps wrist*"
It's got to be said that the man appears to have redeemed himself in the eyes of our rather restless bunch.
By all accounts it was a very impressive performance, though it's got to be said that one big victory doesn't guarantee a promotion run.
And, stealing the nickname given to the former Chelsea boss Claudio Ranieri, I think Mr Buckle is a bit of a tinkerman.
Nothing else can really explain why he has on occasion played our most dangerous goalscoring threat Scott McGleish out wide.
McGleish, returned to his favoured position up front, scored two of the five goals on Friday and must stay up front.
Still, can't grumble.
We have now reached the lofty heights of 14th and improved our goal difference, to boot.
And for once I've been able to enjoy a long weekend without having to worry about the state of my magnificent football club.
In fact, Saturday was pretty enjoyable all round: I wasn't sat, biting my nails, trying to follow the Gas on a slow time BBC feed.
I was relaxed, laidback and carefree.
A state that almost accended into Utopia when one particular football result came through: Bristol City 1 Peterborough 2.
Oh my.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
The Buckle's burst
BRISTOL ROVERS are so used to things going wrong that I believe we actually coined a phrase to come out with whenever we sank to a new low.
Or rather, we used the name of a former club employee to sum up our feelings.
"Gordon Bennett!" was the cry when another pass slipped astray, another goal hit our net, another three points were snatched from our flimsy grasp.
Yes, we did actually employ a certain Mr Bennett behind the scenes as youth development officer and then chief executive back in the dim and murky past.
But even the unfortunately named Gordon finally admitted defeat and moved on to pastures new when things got TOO tough to handle.
It just sums up how low things can get here.
And, according to some supporters, it is getting REALLY desperate now.
A quarter of the season nearly gone, only four wins to our name and five defeats, and a goal difference that is slipping back so fiercely that it is beginning to mirror the start of the slippery slope from last season.
And Mr Buckle, our saviour, the man who was going to bring back free-flowing football to the Mem, kick out the deadwood and launch us back to the lofty heights of League One, is now well and truly in the firing line.
He isn't helping himself.
For if there is one thing a Rovers fan can't abide it is excuses.
From our new manager the list has been growing: The grass is at fault, the injury list is at fault, not being able to pick the same side is at fault (even though, when he has had the chance he has decided against it - take Matt Harrold's exclusion).
And now... the cardinal sin... the fans are at fault.
For getting on the backs of the team and jeering when they are bashed 3-1 at home by the world-beating brand name that is Cheltenham Town.
Now don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no desire to push Mr Buckle towards the door.
The worst possible thing in our current situation is to become one of those clubs that adopts a revolving door policy for managers when things don't seem to be going according to plan.
What I would like him to do is shut up, now, and let his team do some talking on the pitch.
I'm a Buckle fan because he came in with a breath of fresh air and blew away some of the humungous cobwebs clinging to this club.
And I readily accept his reasoning that some of last season's squad were lazy and just making up the numbers to pick up their pay cheque.
In fact, on the few occasions I have managed to see my beloved Gas this season our players have looked to have far more potential than their predecessors - particularly where work ethic is concerned.
Come to think of it I've seen us beat Northampton and Shrewsbury at home, and win away at Wimbledon.
So perhaps the problem is that I haven't been able to see my team enough!
Come to think of it, Mr Buckle, you can try this out for size after the Rotherham game if it doesn't go our way. "We didn't win because Buckrippers wasn't here." Sorted.
Joking aside, Buckle now has to prove that he has got what it takes to not only build a side to win matches, but to play entertaining football in the process.
It's a big task because in the fans' eyes he is fast going the same way as his predecessor Dave Penney (two managers back, after the brief caretaker spell in charge by Stuart Campbell).
I thought Penney should have had more time to perform his act of major surgery, but the fans turned on him.
Rovers supporters are certainly a restless bunch these days.
But it's not for the reasons Mr Buckle thinks: That we are not used to losing (Give us a break, I've been used to losing for 40 odd years!), that we have no patience (hang on, we waited a long time to get out of this sodding division the last time and STILL turned up), and that we have too much expectation (You obviously don't know us at all, when the height of some of our expectations was mid-table in League One until recently).
Perhaps you should take a bit more time to understand us, Mr Buckle, our history and what we are about.
Because, as far as I can see, so far you have got everything you have asked for from our chairman Mr Higgs.
It's time you gave us something in return... a team of which we can be proud.
Or rather, we used the name of a former club employee to sum up our feelings.
"Gordon Bennett!" was the cry when another pass slipped astray, another goal hit our net, another three points were snatched from our flimsy grasp.
Yes, we did actually employ a certain Mr Bennett behind the scenes as youth development officer and then chief executive back in the dim and murky past.
But even the unfortunately named Gordon finally admitted defeat and moved on to pastures new when things got TOO tough to handle.
It just sums up how low things can get here.
And, according to some supporters, it is getting REALLY desperate now.
A quarter of the season nearly gone, only four wins to our name and five defeats, and a goal difference that is slipping back so fiercely that it is beginning to mirror the start of the slippery slope from last season.
And Mr Buckle, our saviour, the man who was going to bring back free-flowing football to the Mem, kick out the deadwood and launch us back to the lofty heights of League One, is now well and truly in the firing line.
He isn't helping himself.
For if there is one thing a Rovers fan can't abide it is excuses.
From our new manager the list has been growing: The grass is at fault, the injury list is at fault, not being able to pick the same side is at fault (even though, when he has had the chance he has decided against it - take Matt Harrold's exclusion).
And now... the cardinal sin... the fans are at fault.
For getting on the backs of the team and jeering when they are bashed 3-1 at home by the world-beating brand name that is Cheltenham Town.
Now don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no desire to push Mr Buckle towards the door.
The worst possible thing in our current situation is to become one of those clubs that adopts a revolving door policy for managers when things don't seem to be going according to plan.
What I would like him to do is shut up, now, and let his team do some talking on the pitch.
I'm a Buckle fan because he came in with a breath of fresh air and blew away some of the humungous cobwebs clinging to this club.
And I readily accept his reasoning that some of last season's squad were lazy and just making up the numbers to pick up their pay cheque.
In fact, on the few occasions I have managed to see my beloved Gas this season our players have looked to have far more potential than their predecessors - particularly where work ethic is concerned.
Come to think of it I've seen us beat Northampton and Shrewsbury at home, and win away at Wimbledon.
So perhaps the problem is that I haven't been able to see my team enough!
Come to think of it, Mr Buckle, you can try this out for size after the Rotherham game if it doesn't go our way. "We didn't win because Buckrippers wasn't here." Sorted.
Joking aside, Buckle now has to prove that he has got what it takes to not only build a side to win matches, but to play entertaining football in the process.
It's a big task because in the fans' eyes he is fast going the same way as his predecessor Dave Penney (two managers back, after the brief caretaker spell in charge by Stuart Campbell).
I thought Penney should have had more time to perform his act of major surgery, but the fans turned on him.
Rovers supporters are certainly a restless bunch these days.
But it's not for the reasons Mr Buckle thinks: That we are not used to losing (Give us a break, I've been used to losing for 40 odd years!), that we have no patience (hang on, we waited a long time to get out of this sodding division the last time and STILL turned up), and that we have too much expectation (You obviously don't know us at all, when the height of some of our expectations was mid-table in League One until recently).
Perhaps you should take a bit more time to understand us, Mr Buckle, our history and what we are about.
Because, as far as I can see, so far you have got everything you have asked for from our chairman Mr Higgs.
It's time you gave us something in return... a team of which we can be proud.
Friday, 7 October 2011
Gizza job
AFTER the miracle of Morecambe came the choke against Cheltenham.
Now I am wondering which Bristol Rovers will show up at Oxford tomorrow.
One thing is for sure: there will be 3,000 Gasheads shouting their heads off to get Paul Buckle's boys back on the right track.
With 11 games gone our beloved Gas have slipped to 15th - but are still only a few points off the play-off places.
Just goes to show that there is a thin line between success and failure at this early stage of the season.
It is almost as though the pressure at home is getting a bit too much for this current crop of players to cope with.
Score first, and they generally go on to win.
But fall behind and the crowd are quick to get on their back, causing a nervous reaction and some pretty awful individual errors.
Still, I think it will take a few more games to sort this division out into its true pecking order.
Our inconsistencies have been cushioned somewhat by what is going on across the city.
The team we dare not mention are lying rock-bottom in the Championship.
And unfortunately, despite our desperate pleas, they decided to dispense with the services of manager Keith Millen after the shocking 5-0 loss to Ian Holloway's Blackpool last week.
Ah, Olly. Our Olly. A Gashead through and through, administering the final blow to his opponent.
It must have been a sweet moment tinged with regret.
I think I have the solution for our Bristol brethren, though.
Having severed my final ties with News International today after a period of what is commonly known in football managerial parlance as "gardening leave" I am now available for work.
And I'm convinced I can keep the Trashton mob in the position to which they are becoming accustomed.
In the style of Tony Hancock, who once did a football skit called the manager, I would go in there like a breath of fresh air and change things around.
First move? I reckon that Nicky Maynard would make a pretty useful goalkeeper...
Now I am wondering which Bristol Rovers will show up at Oxford tomorrow.
One thing is for sure: there will be 3,000 Gasheads shouting their heads off to get Paul Buckle's boys back on the right track.
With 11 games gone our beloved Gas have slipped to 15th - but are still only a few points off the play-off places.
Just goes to show that there is a thin line between success and failure at this early stage of the season.
It is almost as though the pressure at home is getting a bit too much for this current crop of players to cope with.
Score first, and they generally go on to win.
But fall behind and the crowd are quick to get on their back, causing a nervous reaction and some pretty awful individual errors.
Still, I think it will take a few more games to sort this division out into its true pecking order.
Our inconsistencies have been cushioned somewhat by what is going on across the city.
The team we dare not mention are lying rock-bottom in the Championship.
And unfortunately, despite our desperate pleas, they decided to dispense with the services of manager Keith Millen after the shocking 5-0 loss to Ian Holloway's Blackpool last week.
Ah, Olly. Our Olly. A Gashead through and through, administering the final blow to his opponent.
It must have been a sweet moment tinged with regret.
I think I have the solution for our Bristol brethren, though.
Having severed my final ties with News International today after a period of what is commonly known in football managerial parlance as "gardening leave" I am now available for work.
And I'm convinced I can keep the Trashton mob in the position to which they are becoming accustomed.
In the style of Tony Hancock, who once did a football skit called the manager, I would go in there like a breath of fresh air and change things around.
First move? I reckon that Nicky Maynard would make a pretty useful goalkeeper...
Friday, 30 September 2011
Chants would be a fine thing
THERE have been plenty of football songs that have made me chuckle over the years.
I remember a former colleague of mine in Wales telling me the reason he liked travelling to see the mighty Bristol Rovers was that not only did we have some decent chants, but we were one of the only clubs in the league where you could actually NOTICE the accent they were sung in.
"Oirene, goodnight Oirene", "Drink up thee cider", "I casn't read, I casn't write but that don't really matter, cos I come down from Gloucestershire and I can drive a tractor".
The old Tote End at Eastville, where I began my long and agony-filled life as a Gashead, used to belt out such ditties with great gusto.
In comparison, the Blackthorne End at the Mem is practically "debonaire" in its choice of song.
But the two I loved of recent times were "Ooo-arr, he's a Latvian" (sung to the tune Go West and directed towards our former Latvian international midfielder Vitas Astafyevs) and "We've got Steve Elliott, he's f***ing brilliant" (ta-ra-ra, boom teeay), belted out with gusto in honour of our former stalwart centre half and captain.
I mention this because the aforementioned Mr Elliott, all 6ft 4 or so of him, returns to the Mem with his current team Cheltenham.
And he is bound to get a rousing reception.
This bloke was a giant for the Gas in our promotion year, and played a vital part in our all-too-brief League One stay, particularly when he returned to steady the ship after a number of hammerings during the 2009-10 season.
Unfortunately the club and then boss Paul Trollope decided to part company with him at the end of that season, and our defence hasn't been the same since.
Of course, Steve's quite a bit older now and never was the quickest, and no doubt he was costing us quite a bundle, too.
But his experience and knowhow have proved pretty much irreplaceable since his departure and I just hope he doesn't come back to haunt us.
Steve can be assured of one thing, though. In this age of money-grabbing stars who thumb their noses at the very mention of loyalty, he won't get one adverse reaction to his return to the Mem.
In fact, it is already being discussed how best to greet him.
It will probably go along the lines of... "You've got Steve Elliott, he's f***ing brilliant".
I remember a former colleague of mine in Wales telling me the reason he liked travelling to see the mighty Bristol Rovers was that not only did we have some decent chants, but we were one of the only clubs in the league where you could actually NOTICE the accent they were sung in.
"Oirene, goodnight Oirene", "Drink up thee cider", "I casn't read, I casn't write but that don't really matter, cos I come down from Gloucestershire and I can drive a tractor".
The old Tote End at Eastville, where I began my long and agony-filled life as a Gashead, used to belt out such ditties with great gusto.
In comparison, the Blackthorne End at the Mem is practically "debonaire" in its choice of song.
But the two I loved of recent times were "Ooo-arr, he's a Latvian" (sung to the tune Go West and directed towards our former Latvian international midfielder Vitas Astafyevs) and "We've got Steve Elliott, he's f***ing brilliant" (ta-ra-ra, boom teeay), belted out with gusto in honour of our former stalwart centre half and captain.
I mention this because the aforementioned Mr Elliott, all 6ft 4 or so of him, returns to the Mem with his current team Cheltenham.
And he is bound to get a rousing reception.
This bloke was a giant for the Gas in our promotion year, and played a vital part in our all-too-brief League One stay, particularly when he returned to steady the ship after a number of hammerings during the 2009-10 season.
Unfortunately the club and then boss Paul Trollope decided to part company with him at the end of that season, and our defence hasn't been the same since.
Of course, Steve's quite a bit older now and never was the quickest, and no doubt he was costing us quite a bundle, too.
But his experience and knowhow have proved pretty much irreplaceable since his departure and I just hope he doesn't come back to haunt us.
Steve can be assured of one thing, though. In this age of money-grabbing stars who thumb their noses at the very mention of loyalty, he won't get one adverse reaction to his return to the Mem.
In fact, it is already being discussed how best to greet him.
It will probably go along the lines of... "You've got Steve Elliott, he's f***ing brilliant".
Tuesday, 27 September 2011
Fantasy football
IT'S a tough job this management lark.
Highly unpredictable.
And just when you think things are going right, something comes along to knock you on your backside.
I've every sympathy, Paul Buckle.
Mind you, I'm not having to give any team talks, sort out tactics or anything like that.
Just like millions of others up and down the country, I am talking about Fantasy Football. I'm given a massive wad of cash (more than Mr Buckle, certainly) and can pick and choose between the best talent in the country.
There's no bartering for players, thinking you've been successful in signing someone only to see them join another club, and no fall-outs with agents.
Simple.
Or not.
Until now I have been flying at the top of the two leagues I've entered, staring down at my opponents and thumbing my nose.
I'm the kiddie with the best football knowledge, my sixth-sense has been phenomenal, it's no contest from now until the end of the season.
Wrong.
I was in the office, doing a jig to celebrate the fact I had taking the plunge and selected Fernando Torres as my captain.
Yes, that's the one, the Spanish striker who had scored just two goals since joining Chelsea from Liverpool for the small matter of £50m.
And hasn't been able to hit a cow's arse with a banjo since.
I just had a feeling, though, that he would do something special at home to Swansea on Saturday and he certainly did.
Early on he scored. That's double points.
In your face, all those who didn't register he was about to embark on a scoring streak.
Nothing can go wrong now.
But hold on. The Sky announcer is talking about a sending off at Stamford Bridge.
And, would you believe it, it's Torres, my captain, sent down the tunnel.
There is laughter all around me and I am forced to hide behind my computer.
Fortunately, where things have gone Pete Tong for me, Mr Buckle seems to have got it right. In real life, Rovers are 1-0 up at league leaders Morecambe thanks to our on-loan central defender Cian Bolger.
It lifts my spirits a bit.
Unfortunately midway through the afternoon they are sinking again.
We're 2-1 down.
Not only that but I have now established that another of my three-pronged fantasy strike force Bobby Zamora isn't even PLAYING for Fulham. Nil points.
Bugger.
I have to bury my growing disappointment by taking a lift up to the ninth floor so that I can walk out onto the balcony for a cigarette.
I know now how that ex-Argentina manager Cesar Minotti feels. Remember the guy? Used to stand on the touchline chain smoking during the 1978 World Cup.
I settle for one roll up.
And return to my desk.
Not long to go in the afternoon, and I'm feeling like the new Plymouth Argyle signing who's opened his first wage packet. A day full of promise about to be ruined.
Passing the TV I take a glance at the screen.
What the hell? Morecambe 2, Bristol Rovers 3!
How did that happen? I was only out of the room five minutes.
Suddenly life looks so much brighter, for me, for Paul Buckle, and for Gasheads all over the world.
It's a nervous wait for the final score to be confirmed.
But there it is. Classic goals from Scott McGleish and Joe Anyinsah have turned it around, even though Morecambe hit the post and missed an open goal in injury time.
Get in!
Last week, our manager Mr Buckle was being accused of everything under the sun.
This week he is a tactical genius.
Swings and Roundabouts.
Meanwhile, the final blow to my fantasy team.
Sir Alex Ferguson has LEFT OUT Wayne Rooney, my third striker, the lynchpin of my team with two hat-tricks in his last three games.
In one desperate afternoon, my team has sunk from top to eighth in the division.
Rovers, meanwhile, have gone from 16th to 12th and just a couple of points off a play-off spot.
The football Gods are laughing at me.
And so are my mates.
But despite my desperate days as a manager, I can't help walking around with a big smile on my face.
Highly unpredictable.
And just when you think things are going right, something comes along to knock you on your backside.
I've every sympathy, Paul Buckle.
Mind you, I'm not having to give any team talks, sort out tactics or anything like that.
Just like millions of others up and down the country, I am talking about Fantasy Football. I'm given a massive wad of cash (more than Mr Buckle, certainly) and can pick and choose between the best talent in the country.
There's no bartering for players, thinking you've been successful in signing someone only to see them join another club, and no fall-outs with agents.
Simple.
Or not.
Until now I have been flying at the top of the two leagues I've entered, staring down at my opponents and thumbing my nose.
I'm the kiddie with the best football knowledge, my sixth-sense has been phenomenal, it's no contest from now until the end of the season.
Wrong.
I was in the office, doing a jig to celebrate the fact I had taking the plunge and selected Fernando Torres as my captain.
Yes, that's the one, the Spanish striker who had scored just two goals since joining Chelsea from Liverpool for the small matter of £50m.
And hasn't been able to hit a cow's arse with a banjo since.
I just had a feeling, though, that he would do something special at home to Swansea on Saturday and he certainly did.
Early on he scored. That's double points.
In your face, all those who didn't register he was about to embark on a scoring streak.
Nothing can go wrong now.
But hold on. The Sky announcer is talking about a sending off at Stamford Bridge.
And, would you believe it, it's Torres, my captain, sent down the tunnel.
There is laughter all around me and I am forced to hide behind my computer.
Fortunately, where things have gone Pete Tong for me, Mr Buckle seems to have got it right. In real life, Rovers are 1-0 up at league leaders Morecambe thanks to our on-loan central defender Cian Bolger.
It lifts my spirits a bit.
Unfortunately midway through the afternoon they are sinking again.
We're 2-1 down.
Not only that but I have now established that another of my three-pronged fantasy strike force Bobby Zamora isn't even PLAYING for Fulham. Nil points.
Bugger.
I have to bury my growing disappointment by taking a lift up to the ninth floor so that I can walk out onto the balcony for a cigarette.
I know now how that ex-Argentina manager Cesar Minotti feels. Remember the guy? Used to stand on the touchline chain smoking during the 1978 World Cup.
I settle for one roll up.
And return to my desk.
Not long to go in the afternoon, and I'm feeling like the new Plymouth Argyle signing who's opened his first wage packet. A day full of promise about to be ruined.
Passing the TV I take a glance at the screen.
What the hell? Morecambe 2, Bristol Rovers 3!
How did that happen? I was only out of the room five minutes.
Suddenly life looks so much brighter, for me, for Paul Buckle, and for Gasheads all over the world.
It's a nervous wait for the final score to be confirmed.
But there it is. Classic goals from Scott McGleish and Joe Anyinsah have turned it around, even though Morecambe hit the post and missed an open goal in injury time.
Get in!
Last week, our manager Mr Buckle was being accused of everything under the sun.
This week he is a tactical genius.
Swings and Roundabouts.
Meanwhile, the final blow to my fantasy team.
Sir Alex Ferguson has LEFT OUT Wayne Rooney, my third striker, the lynchpin of my team with two hat-tricks in his last three games.
In one desperate afternoon, my team has sunk from top to eighth in the division.
Rovers, meanwhile, have gone from 16th to 12th and just a couple of points off a play-off spot.
The football Gods are laughing at me.
And so are my mates.
But despite my desperate days as a manager, I can't help walking around with a big smile on my face.
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Singing the Boos
IT appears Paul Buckle's halo has slipped.
What is more, the manager seems to have started sprouting a pair of horns.
That is the impression you get from reading all the recent fans' criticism of the head honcho, who has only been in the Bristol Rovers hot seat for four months.
The argument goes that he has fallen out with the players; that he wants to play kick-and-rush 'hoofball', that the players he has bought to the club aren't a patch on the ones that have departed.
And that if the trend continues he should be told 'thanks, but no thanks' - and shown the door.
Well, talk about knee-jerk reactions - and Buckle does in some of his recent interviews.
At the moment our record reads Played 9, won 3, drawn 3, lost 3. Our position of 16th in the table isn't great, mainly down to another poor goal difference, but it's hardly relegation form.
We only have to look at what is happening up the road at Hereford to see what that looks like and at least we haven't lost 6-1 at home – yet.
I can see a worrying trend developing here.
So sold on success were we Gasheads - ever since the promotion party of four years ago - that we now think we have a divine right to it.
We have been told various things which have only gone to increase our optimism - and the more upbeat you feel, the further down you go when the crash comes along.
If I have one argument with Mr Buckle's approach, it is the reaction he had to the booing that accompanied our disappointing 1-0 home defeat to mighty Aldershot last weekend.
He rounded on supporters that he had been praising to the hilt since arriving at the Mem and said they should lower there expectations.
Well, hang on, Mr Buckle, but it was YOU who told us how big this club was; YOU who told us that we should expect promotion and nothing less; YOU who built us up with promises of attacking, free-flowing football played with wingers in pre-season.
YOU cannot now tell us we shouldn't expect certain things, or you're actually leaving yourself open to accusations of hypocracy.
Rovers fans are pretty loyal, but they expect some return for their loyalty.
I think, though, the last season was so bad that we have forgotten we also need to show a bit of patience.
I recall the beginning of our promotion season, in particular, when the booing from the terraces after a couple of performances was building to a clamour for Paul Trollope to be replaced.
No one, now, would own up to being one of those who wanted him to go - particularly after the fantastic run we had at the end of that season, culminating in a JPT final at the Millennium Stadium and a fantastic play-off victory over Shrewsbury.
And I think we should all get behind Buckle, too.
Otherwise we are in danger of being one of those clubs that switch managers every time the wind changes.
And we all know what happens to them. They disappear down, down and down until they drop out of the bottom of the league.
Unless we suddenly find ourselves in such dire straits there is no other option, we should be taking the pressure off our manager and his players, and getting behind them.
It normally takes two years for a manager to put his stamp on a new club - but with all the signings we made in the summer some believe we should be seeing a miracle transformation.
Unfortunately, football doesn't work like that.
Ask Robert Mancini and his predecessor Mark Hughes about their early days at the helm of Manchester City after the big Sheikh up.
One thing's for sure - it never gets easier for a Gashead.
We're travelling to the home of flying Morecambe on Saturday - and they beat big-spending Crawley 6-0 there a couple of weeks ago.
What is more, the manager seems to have started sprouting a pair of horns.
That is the impression you get from reading all the recent fans' criticism of the head honcho, who has only been in the Bristol Rovers hot seat for four months.
The argument goes that he has fallen out with the players; that he wants to play kick-and-rush 'hoofball', that the players he has bought to the club aren't a patch on the ones that have departed.
And that if the trend continues he should be told 'thanks, but no thanks' - and shown the door.
Well, talk about knee-jerk reactions - and Buckle does in some of his recent interviews.
At the moment our record reads Played 9, won 3, drawn 3, lost 3. Our position of 16th in the table isn't great, mainly down to another poor goal difference, but it's hardly relegation form.
We only have to look at what is happening up the road at Hereford to see what that looks like and at least we haven't lost 6-1 at home – yet.
I can see a worrying trend developing here.
So sold on success were we Gasheads - ever since the promotion party of four years ago - that we now think we have a divine right to it.
We have been told various things which have only gone to increase our optimism - and the more upbeat you feel, the further down you go when the crash comes along.
If I have one argument with Mr Buckle's approach, it is the reaction he had to the booing that accompanied our disappointing 1-0 home defeat to mighty Aldershot last weekend.
He rounded on supporters that he had been praising to the hilt since arriving at the Mem and said they should lower there expectations.
Well, hang on, Mr Buckle, but it was YOU who told us how big this club was; YOU who told us that we should expect promotion and nothing less; YOU who built us up with promises of attacking, free-flowing football played with wingers in pre-season.
YOU cannot now tell us we shouldn't expect certain things, or you're actually leaving yourself open to accusations of hypocracy.
Rovers fans are pretty loyal, but they expect some return for their loyalty.
I think, though, the last season was so bad that we have forgotten we also need to show a bit of patience.
I recall the beginning of our promotion season, in particular, when the booing from the terraces after a couple of performances was building to a clamour for Paul Trollope to be replaced.
No one, now, would own up to being one of those who wanted him to go - particularly after the fantastic run we had at the end of that season, culminating in a JPT final at the Millennium Stadium and a fantastic play-off victory over Shrewsbury.
And I think we should all get behind Buckle, too.
Otherwise we are in danger of being one of those clubs that switch managers every time the wind changes.
And we all know what happens to them. They disappear down, down and down until they drop out of the bottom of the league.
Unless we suddenly find ourselves in such dire straits there is no other option, we should be taking the pressure off our manager and his players, and getting behind them.
It normally takes two years for a manager to put his stamp on a new club - but with all the signings we made in the summer some believe we should be seeing a miracle transformation.
Unfortunately, football doesn't work like that.
Ask Robert Mancini and his predecessor Mark Hughes about their early days at the helm of Manchester City after the big Sheikh up.
One thing's for sure - it never gets easier for a Gashead.
We're travelling to the home of flying Morecambe on Saturday - and they beat big-spending Crawley 6-0 there a couple of weeks ago.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Deja Shrew
WITH seconds remaining and my beloved Gas hanging on to a slender lead, Shrewsbury made a last-ditch attempt to save the game.
Having won a corner, their goalkeeper sprinted 80 yards up the pitch to try and add weight to their attack.
And, exhausted from his exertions, promptly fell over.
A Rovers player ran away with the ball and reached the halfway line with only one defender having any chance of getting back to cover for his prostrate keeper.
Wembley 2007? Our dramatic 3-1 play-off success against the Shrews that took us into League 1?
Not a bit of it.
This was Bristol Rovers v Shrewsbury 2011. History repeating itself.
Unfortunately the player in possession wasn't the scurrying Sammy Igoe but young Elliot Richards, who had received a nasty knock on the head in a collision with the giant Shrewsbury defender Jermaine Grandison moments earlier.
And rather than roll the ball 50 yards into the empty net he tried to pass, managing to find the only opposition player in the same postcode as him.
Perhaps he was still seeing double.
The whistle blew and Rovers had hung on for a 1-0 win against a team who were sitting pretty in the automatic promotion places after the first seven games of the season.
It wasn't particularly pretty, but after a run of five league and cup games without a win it came as manna from heaven for the 5,000 Gasheads who turned up at the Mem.
And, to be fair, there does seem to be a spirit about this Rovers team that was sadly lacking in our relegation fight the year before.
Though we were beaten hands down if the possession stats are to be believed, they only tell half the story.
Despite putting out a side which seemed rather limited in options, particularly on the wings with Mustapha Carayol and Joe Anyinsah both left on the bench, Paul Buckle's side managed to create a series of good chances which, on another day, might have resulted in a more comfortable win.
As it was they settled for a screaming volley from Chris Zebroski to seal the points.
And though they played some nice one-touch passing football Shrewsbury rarely managed to penetrate a backline in which on-loan centre back Cian Bolger and defender Danny Woodards were outstanding.
On the one occasion, four minutes into injury time, that Shrewsbury conjured up a real shot of note, a tremendous 25-yard effort from Lionel Ainsworth was brilliantly tipped around the post by keeper Scott Bevan.
Cue the chaos that came from the resulting corner.
A good game and a good three points.
Now for Aldershot on Saturday...
Having won a corner, their goalkeeper sprinted 80 yards up the pitch to try and add weight to their attack.
And, exhausted from his exertions, promptly fell over.
A Rovers player ran away with the ball and reached the halfway line with only one defender having any chance of getting back to cover for his prostrate keeper.
Wembley 2007? Our dramatic 3-1 play-off success against the Shrews that took us into League 1?
Not a bit of it.
This was Bristol Rovers v Shrewsbury 2011. History repeating itself.
Unfortunately the player in possession wasn't the scurrying Sammy Igoe but young Elliot Richards, who had received a nasty knock on the head in a collision with the giant Shrewsbury defender Jermaine Grandison moments earlier.
And rather than roll the ball 50 yards into the empty net he tried to pass, managing to find the only opposition player in the same postcode as him.
Perhaps he was still seeing double.
The whistle blew and Rovers had hung on for a 1-0 win against a team who were sitting pretty in the automatic promotion places after the first seven games of the season.
It wasn't particularly pretty, but after a run of five league and cup games without a win it came as manna from heaven for the 5,000 Gasheads who turned up at the Mem.
And, to be fair, there does seem to be a spirit about this Rovers team that was sadly lacking in our relegation fight the year before.
Though we were beaten hands down if the possession stats are to be believed, they only tell half the story.
Despite putting out a side which seemed rather limited in options, particularly on the wings with Mustapha Carayol and Joe Anyinsah both left on the bench, Paul Buckle's side managed to create a series of good chances which, on another day, might have resulted in a more comfortable win.
As it was they settled for a screaming volley from Chris Zebroski to seal the points.
And though they played some nice one-touch passing football Shrewsbury rarely managed to penetrate a backline in which on-loan centre back Cian Bolger and defender Danny Woodards were outstanding.
On the one occasion, four minutes into injury time, that Shrewsbury conjured up a real shot of note, a tremendous 25-yard effort from Lionel Ainsworth was brilliantly tipped around the post by keeper Scott Bevan.
Cue the chaos that came from the resulting corner.
A good game and a good three points.
Now for Aldershot on Saturday...
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Mr Brightside
SOME people may think I've given up on this blogging lark, but the truth is my mind has been a bit preoccupied of late.
Having lost my job with the sinking of the good ship News of the World, I have now had to contend with my wife being made redundant.
With luck like that, it's not hard to believe that I also happen to be a lifelong Bristol Rovers fan. It gears you up to stare adversity in the face, take life's left hooks on the chin and somehow bounce back for more.
I mean, are any of our loyal supporters billionaires? Not that I've heard.
Where is our Jack Walker, our Sir Elton John or our Dave Whelan?
All these years of scraping the bottom of life's football barrel and I've yet to cross paths with one single super-rich Gashead.
I guess it's that feeling that we're all in the same rocky boat that somehow keeps us going.
And I have a positive thought amid the doom and gloom. It's the kind of thing that inspired Monty Python to write their old classic "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life".
Amid all the bad luck, I am a great believer that there is always something to balance things up - albeit briefly.
I may not have expected to find my personal circumstances in such dire straits but, let's face it, as a fervent cricket fan I never believed I would see the day when England were the No.1 team in the world.
Compared to that Bristol Rovers getting promoted, or at least achieving a play-off spot, shouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility.
Admittedly, the great Paul Buckle era hasn't begun with an almighty bang. As firework displays go it has been more like a couple of fizzles and pops with the odd catherine wheel flying off the nearest wooden poll and smashing you in the gut. Losing 4-1 at Crawley springs to mind.
But looking at the record it still reads won 2, drawn 3, lost 2. Seven games into the season, but with all the cup activity, too, you could be forgiven for thinking it's been a lot longer.
Now, two home games coming up - Shrewsbury tonight and Aldershot on Saturday. After those things could look a whole lot rosier or a great deal grimmer.
Questions are already being asked of Mr Buckle - his man-management of the goal-every-four-game striker Jo Kuffour and his decision to leave out and drop certain players.
But I'm not ready to turn on him yet. Everything he has done since he has arrived has involved getting rid of players who were a disgrace to the shirt last season and trying to engender a new team spirit, work ethic and a loyalty to the badge.
Things are bound to take time when you make such wholesale changes, and he deserves a period of grace just for the positive attitude he has brought to the club. A few bad results shouldn't make us feel that the whole thing has gone Pete Tong again.
So let's stick with the players and Buckle, give them our support without howling and groaning every step of the way.
There is a long way to go and, as always with the Gas, it will be a rollercoaster ride.
I may be penniless and homeless by the end of the season, but celebrating promotion would still give me a warm feeling as I sit under Broadmead underpass in my cardboard box.
Having lost my job with the sinking of the good ship News of the World, I have now had to contend with my wife being made redundant.
With luck like that, it's not hard to believe that I also happen to be a lifelong Bristol Rovers fan. It gears you up to stare adversity in the face, take life's left hooks on the chin and somehow bounce back for more.
I mean, are any of our loyal supporters billionaires? Not that I've heard.
Where is our Jack Walker, our Sir Elton John or our Dave Whelan?
All these years of scraping the bottom of life's football barrel and I've yet to cross paths with one single super-rich Gashead.
I guess it's that feeling that we're all in the same rocky boat that somehow keeps us going.
And I have a positive thought amid the doom and gloom. It's the kind of thing that inspired Monty Python to write their old classic "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life".
Amid all the bad luck, I am a great believer that there is always something to balance things up - albeit briefly.
I may not have expected to find my personal circumstances in such dire straits but, let's face it, as a fervent cricket fan I never believed I would see the day when England were the No.1 team in the world.
Compared to that Bristol Rovers getting promoted, or at least achieving a play-off spot, shouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility.
Admittedly, the great Paul Buckle era hasn't begun with an almighty bang. As firework displays go it has been more like a couple of fizzles and pops with the odd catherine wheel flying off the nearest wooden poll and smashing you in the gut. Losing 4-1 at Crawley springs to mind.
But looking at the record it still reads won 2, drawn 3, lost 2. Seven games into the season, but with all the cup activity, too, you could be forgiven for thinking it's been a lot longer.
Now, two home games coming up - Shrewsbury tonight and Aldershot on Saturday. After those things could look a whole lot rosier or a great deal grimmer.
Questions are already being asked of Mr Buckle - his man-management of the goal-every-four-game striker Jo Kuffour and his decision to leave out and drop certain players.
But I'm not ready to turn on him yet. Everything he has done since he has arrived has involved getting rid of players who were a disgrace to the shirt last season and trying to engender a new team spirit, work ethic and a loyalty to the badge.
Things are bound to take time when you make such wholesale changes, and he deserves a period of grace just for the positive attitude he has brought to the club. A few bad results shouldn't make us feel that the whole thing has gone Pete Tong again.
So let's stick with the players and Buckle, give them our support without howling and groaning every step of the way.
There is a long way to go and, as always with the Gas, it will be a rollercoaster ride.
I may be penniless and homeless by the end of the season, but celebrating promotion would still give me a warm feeling as I sit under Broadmead underpass in my cardboard box.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Jim White day
NORMALLY at this time of year I've got the curtains pulled, the television on, a kettle by my side, tea bags at the ready and a portable loo installed.
That's because it's what has now officially become Jim White Day.
The day when Sky Sports News gives you a running commentary of the final desperate moves in the transfer window.
White has become known as the Transfernator for his running commentary on who is going where, who might be going somewhere, whose been spotted in the local Waitrose near a Premier League ground and whose car is or isn't in the parking spot where it should be.
I remember not too long ago when Sky's Spies followed the former England goalkeeper turned sh**head everywhere for 12 hours only to discover that none of the rumours were true and David James was staying put at Portsmouth.
Still, they had a good tour of local gym, training ground, car park and physio's room in the process.
It's a good insight into what it takes to be a Sky Sports reporter.
How, for instance, people like David Craig can whitter on for a whole day about who nearly joined Newcastle until they realised how cold it was in winter, what Toon owner Mike Ashley bought him for brekky and how the nice people in the St James' Park office took him a cup of coffee to keep him going.
To be honest, though, I've never given two hoots about whether Kaka will join Manchester City or which club will take the plunge on an overweight, under-skilled striker like Benni McCarthy this time.
It's always about the Gas and, generally, I emerge from my lonely 14-hour vigil frustrated, angry and bereft.
All day I've been harbouring a secret belief "We'll pull something out of the bag", "Rickie Lambert's replacement will finally turn up this time", "I'm sure we can entice Jason Roberts back to the Mem".
And all to no avail.
Two seasons ago was the all-time low.
After being told for three weeks by our boss at the time, Paul Trollope, that they were going to bring someone in to solve our growing problems up front it ended with us loaning out Darryl Duffy, one of the only strikers remaining on our books, and replacing him with... no one.
Absolutely soul destroying and the excuse that "We thought we had someone, but he joined someone else" didn't help one iota.
This year, though, I am not the slightest bit worried.
We might lose Jo Kuffour.
Big deal.
Well, probably not so big, really.
He strikes me as a player who, when everything is going right, he does well.
When it's backs-to-the-wall he disappears.
He's got some decent skills but our new manager Paul Buckle wants people who are going to fight for the club - not someone who fades away when the going gets tough.
Other than that Buckle did all his transfer work months ago and is now busily working on getting our host of new players to gel.
It is working to a certain extent, though a couple of disappointing results over the last week show it is still a work in progress.
Still, I am relatively happy with the Rovers squad as it is and think this will only improve as the season progresses.
Meanwhile, if I am hoping for one thing today it is that our hated neighbours from south Bristol sell their best striker Nicky Maynard, and bring in the Arsenal back four that lost 8-2 at Manchester United - with the possible addition of that Brazilian goalkeeper Gomes at Spurs.
Tidy.
Absolutely gutted, distraught, too upset to talk, moody for the rest of the week.
These are all emotions I usually feel when the Gas lose.
But not today.
We went out of the Carling Cup 3-2 to Orient after a decent effort last night, and it means we won't have to travel to Blackburn for the third round.
I am not the slightest bit bothered.
Cup runs are all well and good but, with the toll they take on the squad and the injuries they accumulate, I am actually a bit relieved.
Now Saturday at Crawley is a different story...
That's because it's what has now officially become Jim White Day.
The day when Sky Sports News gives you a running commentary of the final desperate moves in the transfer window.
White has become known as the Transfernator for his running commentary on who is going where, who might be going somewhere, whose been spotted in the local Waitrose near a Premier League ground and whose car is or isn't in the parking spot where it should be.
I remember not too long ago when Sky's Spies followed the former England goalkeeper turned sh**head everywhere for 12 hours only to discover that none of the rumours were true and David James was staying put at Portsmouth.
Still, they had a good tour of local gym, training ground, car park and physio's room in the process.
It's a good insight into what it takes to be a Sky Sports reporter.
How, for instance, people like David Craig can whitter on for a whole day about who nearly joined Newcastle until they realised how cold it was in winter, what Toon owner Mike Ashley bought him for brekky and how the nice people in the St James' Park office took him a cup of coffee to keep him going.
To be honest, though, I've never given two hoots about whether Kaka will join Manchester City or which club will take the plunge on an overweight, under-skilled striker like Benni McCarthy this time.
It's always about the Gas and, generally, I emerge from my lonely 14-hour vigil frustrated, angry and bereft.
All day I've been harbouring a secret belief "We'll pull something out of the bag", "Rickie Lambert's replacement will finally turn up this time", "I'm sure we can entice Jason Roberts back to the Mem".
And all to no avail.
Two seasons ago was the all-time low.
After being told for three weeks by our boss at the time, Paul Trollope, that they were going to bring someone in to solve our growing problems up front it ended with us loaning out Darryl Duffy, one of the only strikers remaining on our books, and replacing him with... no one.
Absolutely soul destroying and the excuse that "We thought we had someone, but he joined someone else" didn't help one iota.
This year, though, I am not the slightest bit worried.
We might lose Jo Kuffour.
Big deal.
Well, probably not so big, really.
He strikes me as a player who, when everything is going right, he does well.
When it's backs-to-the-wall he disappears.
He's got some decent skills but our new manager Paul Buckle wants people who are going to fight for the club - not someone who fades away when the going gets tough.
Other than that Buckle did all his transfer work months ago and is now busily working on getting our host of new players to gel.
It is working to a certain extent, though a couple of disappointing results over the last week show it is still a work in progress.
Still, I am relatively happy with the Rovers squad as it is and think this will only improve as the season progresses.
Meanwhile, if I am hoping for one thing today it is that our hated neighbours from south Bristol sell their best striker Nicky Maynard, and bring in the Arsenal back four that lost 8-2 at Manchester United - with the possible addition of that Brazilian goalkeeper Gomes at Spurs.
Tidy.
Absolutely gutted, distraught, too upset to talk, moody for the rest of the week.
These are all emotions I usually feel when the Gas lose.
But not today.
We went out of the Carling Cup 3-2 to Orient after a decent effort last night, and it means we won't have to travel to Blackburn for the third round.
I am not the slightest bit bothered.
Cup runs are all well and good but, with the toll they take on the squad and the injuries they accumulate, I am actually a bit relieved.
Now Saturday at Crawley is a different story...
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Concentrating on the League
DUE to a bit of a family crisis I couldn't go to our Carling Cup first-round tie against Watford.
I wasn't too bothered.
And nor, it seems, were many of my fellow gasheads as there were less than 5,000 at the Mem to watch our thrilling penalty shoot-out win over the Championship club.
By all accounts it was a great game and Rovers gave as good as they got.
But perhaps this is a bit of a reflection on the optimism surrounding Paul Buckle's new team who, at the moment, have given we gasheads a surprisingly upbeat feeling following the disastrous episode of last season.
When things have habitually gone badly for the Gas, fans have always flocked to these cup ties in the hope that they can give us a glimmer of light in an often dark and ominous season.
Even when we've had particularly poor sides we have always managed to raise ourselves for the big one-off ties, which was as bad a reflection on our past players as it was good for the club's bank balance.
We have in previous years been known as cup giantkillers, the shock of our victories being all the greater the worse we are doing in the league.
Call it arrogance, confidence, belief or whatever, but on this occasion I thought Rovers would overcome Watford. And probably on penalties.
I knew we had the spirit and the skill to give them a good test but - even if we lost - I wouldn't have been that bothered.
Because this year I can borrow that cliche popular with all managers and say: "We are concentrating on the league."
Nothing else matters.
Yes, a Cup run is a nice distraction as long as it doesn't become TOO distracting.
As long as it doesn't result in too many injuries (three of our number picked up knocks, the most serious being young Cian Bolger).
And as long as our players don't take too much out of themselves and find our league form suffers as a consequence.
Because I think this team is capable of being more than one-hit wonders.
They are capable of being 46-hit wonders.
And sealing the promotion that all Rovers fans will savour long after memories of our cup exploits have died away.
I hope I am right.
Don't get me wrong, though.
Last year's team couldn't even raise themselves for one-off cup ties.
We lost 6-1 at League new boys Oxford in the Carling Cup and 2-1 at non-league Darlington in the FA Cup.
Both results were shameful.
I would like to say we were concentrating on the league then, too.
But the truth is we couldn't concentrate on anything for longer than five minutes.
So well done, Paul Buckle. And well done, Rovers.
The victory can be savoured all the more because our struggling neighbours across the City lost to their League Two opponents Swindon 1-0 at home. Unlike some other Premier and Championship clubs, they played a pretty full-strength line-up too.
So while we can have a little chuckle at their expense, for once the old joke "Both Bristols are out of the Cup" doesn't apply.
I wasn't too bothered.
And nor, it seems, were many of my fellow gasheads as there were less than 5,000 at the Mem to watch our thrilling penalty shoot-out win over the Championship club.
By all accounts it was a great game and Rovers gave as good as they got.
But perhaps this is a bit of a reflection on the optimism surrounding Paul Buckle's new team who, at the moment, have given we gasheads a surprisingly upbeat feeling following the disastrous episode of last season.
When things have habitually gone badly for the Gas, fans have always flocked to these cup ties in the hope that they can give us a glimmer of light in an often dark and ominous season.
Even when we've had particularly poor sides we have always managed to raise ourselves for the big one-off ties, which was as bad a reflection on our past players as it was good for the club's bank balance.
We have in previous years been known as cup giantkillers, the shock of our victories being all the greater the worse we are doing in the league.
Call it arrogance, confidence, belief or whatever, but on this occasion I thought Rovers would overcome Watford. And probably on penalties.
I knew we had the spirit and the skill to give them a good test but - even if we lost - I wouldn't have been that bothered.
Because this year I can borrow that cliche popular with all managers and say: "We are concentrating on the league."
Nothing else matters.
Yes, a Cup run is a nice distraction as long as it doesn't become TOO distracting.
As long as it doesn't result in too many injuries (three of our number picked up knocks, the most serious being young Cian Bolger).
And as long as our players don't take too much out of themselves and find our league form suffers as a consequence.
Because I think this team is capable of being more than one-hit wonders.
They are capable of being 46-hit wonders.
And sealing the promotion that all Rovers fans will savour long after memories of our cup exploits have died away.
I hope I am right.
Don't get me wrong, though.
Last year's team couldn't even raise themselves for one-off cup ties.
We lost 6-1 at League new boys Oxford in the Carling Cup and 2-1 at non-league Darlington in the FA Cup.
Both results were shameful.
I would like to say we were concentrating on the league then, too.
But the truth is we couldn't concentrate on anything for longer than five minutes.
So well done, Paul Buckle. And well done, Rovers.
The victory can be savoured all the more because our struggling neighbours across the City lost to their League Two opponents Swindon 1-0 at home. Unlike some other Premier and Championship clubs, they played a pretty full-strength line-up too.
So while we can have a little chuckle at their expense, for once the old joke "Both Bristols are out of the Cup" doesn't apply.
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
Gorilla warfare
I'VE had my daughter and the two grandchildren staying, and it was touch and go whether I would make our League Two clash with Northampton Town tonight.
We went on the search for Gorillas.
Not the urban type that caused mayhem outside Tesco's in Stoke's Croft.
Nor the ones that make a decent effort to take over the world in the latest Planet of the Apes movie.
No this lot are stone statues and there are 60 of them dotted in and around Bristol(although the 'around' term must be used pretty casually as one seems to have turned up inside Birmingham coach station).
They have been erected in honour of the 175th anniversary of Bristol Zoo and are all themed as part of the Wow Gorilla! concept.
One, for instance, is dressed in a Bristol Rovers kit and goes by the name of Irene. It would have been my first port of call but, selflessly, it wasn't up to me.
We started off at a decent time in the morning and tracked down two of our targets in Cribbs Causeway while shopping for some of the wife's birthday presents.
From there we proceded to Clifton and managed to collect another four or five to add to our collection.
As we went from Gorilla location to Gorilla location, while fitting in a lunch stop as well, I was keeping a close eye on the watch.
It was mid afternoon when the grandchildren piped up that they wanted to see "spidey monkey". This is a Gorilla which is painted as Spiderman.
I looked at the location.
Shuddered.
It was a stone's throw from Ashton Gate in the City stronghold of Bedminster.
What can you do?
I couldn't disappoint such young, enthusiastic souls so we travelled to the 'other side' and the boys got their picture taking with Spidey, though I refused to get out of the car (silly, I know).
We then drove on, and I took a wrong turning.
It was then that the horrific thought occured to me - if I was to get back on track the best place to turn around was the ground commonly known as Trashton by myself and fellow Gasheads.
I couldn't afford to be late back home, though, so took the plunge.
And then remembered something else.
They actually have a Gorilla wearing City red inside the stadium.
It would be another one to add to the collection.
The youngsters would be ecstatic to take the number up to 16 - one down, just another 44 to go.
So I did what all good grandparents would.
Well, good Gashead grandparents.
I kept my mouth shut.
No way could I have photographic evidence of my grandchildren with THAT gorilla.
I was shattered when I got home.
I had to cook tea, feed the baby and wrap presents.
Still, I managed to get out of the house by 6.20, into the pub by 6.30 and got my lift to the ground at 6.55.
By 7.30 I was ensconsed in my favourite place, behind Paul Buckle's dug out.
It was always going to be an interesting place to stand for this one, for the main reason that on the opposite bench was Gary Johnson, the former Bristol City manager and pantomime villain to most Gasheads (though some actually wanted him to take charge at the Mem during our appalling run last season).
As expected he got the normal witty chants of abuse including the always popular rendition of "hi ho" from Disney's Seven Dwarves. Somewhat ironic when delivered by vertically challenged people like myself.
As for the game, Rovers started extremely brightly and deserved to be ahead 1-0 at half time, though it was a shame our lively winger Joe Anyinsah had to come off with an injury before the break.
Buckle started the game with Jo Kuffour up front alongside Matt Harrold, and Scott McGleish pushed back into midfield.
As a one-off ploy I guess it was effective, though I'm not sure I want to see a 20-goal a season striker of McGleish's quality restricted in such a way too often.
The second half was different, though. Northampton fought back and levelled courtesy of a fortuitous goal off possibly the biggest backside in football, Adebayo Akinfenwa.
I remember seeing him play alongside Leon Knight for Swansea in the season they were promoted from League 2 and he was quite a handful.
He is now, too, but for an entirely different reason.
Forget stone gorillas, the sheer size of this guy these days is on a par with any large primate in captivity.
Tough on Rovers, though they had been forced back for a significant spell.
But overall the Gas had been much more threatening in front of goal, and Matt Harrold's winner was exactly what they deserved.
In fact, Kuffour hit the post and another chance somehow went begging at the far post as the Gas tried to push home their advantage.
Good to see the huddle at the end, too, with Buckle standing in the midst of the players giving them a rousing pep talk out on the field.
Rovers may lack a bit of subtlety these days, but the team spirit and professional knowhow of this team of relatively new recruits is a breath of fresh air. Sometimes, even when I came away from the Mem after a home win in previous years, I breathed a sigh of relief.
This time it was a feeling of optimism and elation.
Northampton's challenge was that of a decent team used to toughing it out in the basement division.
We can anticipate plenty such battles in the coming months but, thankfully, I think tonight proved we have a team who can cope with them.
We went on the search for Gorillas.
Not the urban type that caused mayhem outside Tesco's in Stoke's Croft.
Nor the ones that make a decent effort to take over the world in the latest Planet of the Apes movie.
No this lot are stone statues and there are 60 of them dotted in and around Bristol(although the 'around' term must be used pretty casually as one seems to have turned up inside Birmingham coach station).
They have been erected in honour of the 175th anniversary of Bristol Zoo and are all themed as part of the Wow Gorilla! concept.
One, for instance, is dressed in a Bristol Rovers kit and goes by the name of Irene. It would have been my first port of call but, selflessly, it wasn't up to me.
We started off at a decent time in the morning and tracked down two of our targets in Cribbs Causeway while shopping for some of the wife's birthday presents.
From there we proceded to Clifton and managed to collect another four or five to add to our collection.
As we went from Gorilla location to Gorilla location, while fitting in a lunch stop as well, I was keeping a close eye on the watch.
It was mid afternoon when the grandchildren piped up that they wanted to see "spidey monkey". This is a Gorilla which is painted as Spiderman.
I looked at the location.
Shuddered.
It was a stone's throw from Ashton Gate in the City stronghold of Bedminster.
What can you do?
I couldn't disappoint such young, enthusiastic souls so we travelled to the 'other side' and the boys got their picture taking with Spidey, though I refused to get out of the car (silly, I know).
We then drove on, and I took a wrong turning.
It was then that the horrific thought occured to me - if I was to get back on track the best place to turn around was the ground commonly known as Trashton by myself and fellow Gasheads.
I couldn't afford to be late back home, though, so took the plunge.
And then remembered something else.
They actually have a Gorilla wearing City red inside the stadium.
It would be another one to add to the collection.
The youngsters would be ecstatic to take the number up to 16 - one down, just another 44 to go.
So I did what all good grandparents would.
Well, good Gashead grandparents.
I kept my mouth shut.
No way could I have photographic evidence of my grandchildren with THAT gorilla.
I was shattered when I got home.
I had to cook tea, feed the baby and wrap presents.
Still, I managed to get out of the house by 6.20, into the pub by 6.30 and got my lift to the ground at 6.55.
By 7.30 I was ensconsed in my favourite place, behind Paul Buckle's dug out.
It was always going to be an interesting place to stand for this one, for the main reason that on the opposite bench was Gary Johnson, the former Bristol City manager and pantomime villain to most Gasheads (though some actually wanted him to take charge at the Mem during our appalling run last season).
As expected he got the normal witty chants of abuse including the always popular rendition of "hi ho" from Disney's Seven Dwarves. Somewhat ironic when delivered by vertically challenged people like myself.
As for the game, Rovers started extremely brightly and deserved to be ahead 1-0 at half time, though it was a shame our lively winger Joe Anyinsah had to come off with an injury before the break.
Buckle started the game with Jo Kuffour up front alongside Matt Harrold, and Scott McGleish pushed back into midfield.
As a one-off ploy I guess it was effective, though I'm not sure I want to see a 20-goal a season striker of McGleish's quality restricted in such a way too often.
The second half was different, though. Northampton fought back and levelled courtesy of a fortuitous goal off possibly the biggest backside in football, Adebayo Akinfenwa.
I remember seeing him play alongside Leon Knight for Swansea in the season they were promoted from League 2 and he was quite a handful.
He is now, too, but for an entirely different reason.
Forget stone gorillas, the sheer size of this guy these days is on a par with any large primate in captivity.
Tough on Rovers, though they had been forced back for a significant spell.
But overall the Gas had been much more threatening in front of goal, and Matt Harrold's winner was exactly what they deserved.
In fact, Kuffour hit the post and another chance somehow went begging at the far post as the Gas tried to push home their advantage.
Good to see the huddle at the end, too, with Buckle standing in the midst of the players giving them a rousing pep talk out on the field.
Rovers may lack a bit of subtlety these days, but the team spirit and professional knowhow of this team of relatively new recruits is a breath of fresh air. Sometimes, even when I came away from the Mem after a home win in previous years, I breathed a sigh of relief.
This time it was a feeling of optimism and elation.
Northampton's challenge was that of a decent team used to toughing it out in the basement division.
We can anticipate plenty such battles in the coming months but, thankfully, I think tonight proved we have a team who can cope with them.
Monday, 15 August 2011
Bucking the trend
AT around 3.20pm on Saturday afternoon there was a big pop.
You could call it a gas explosion.
It was actually the sound of our glorious bubble being burst.
Ever since Paul Buckle arrived at the Mem we Gasheads have been immersed in a heady atmosphere of optimism and enthusiasm.
For heaven's sake, we've signed 15 new players, ditched the deadwood and performed admirably in our pre-season friendlies.
Our new manager has spoken so positively about everything he plans to achieve, and our opening day win at Wimbledon was achieved with a certain style and panache.
And then came Torquay.
This is Torquay, the team Buckle left at the end of last season after they had been beaten in the League 2 play-off.
The team we robbed and pillaged of manager, assistant manager, goalkeeper and striker.
Our little west country cousins who were left forlorn and without hope by this merciless raid by their big city neighbours.
In fact, with Torquay being our first opponents at the Mem in the league this season they were only their as fodder in an exhibition put on by our new, exciting, attack-minded, promotion favourites.
Then reality struck.
Big city slickers 1, Quaint side on the Devon riviera 2
And we were 2-0 down after 20 minutes in front of over 8,000 deflated Gasheads.
Even more irritating was the fact that Rene Howe, the burly striker who while on loan to us last season managed to accumulate one goal and a hatful of (to my mind) unfair critics.
How could it go so wrong? Is this the big con? Has Mr Buckle hoodwinked us like a clever card sharp getting the better of Penn and Teller on a Saturday night primetime show?
Or is it just that everything has gone SO right so far that, being Bristol Rovers, it would inevitably come to an end?
When you think you are nailed on for success, football quite often turns around and bites you in the backside.
But I have faith in our new manager.
I still believe that he is building a team to excite us and bring success to our club.
And I will confidently predict that Bristol Rovers will finish above Torquay at the end of the season.
For the moment, though, the bragging rights belong to Gulls fans and, quite frankly, they probably deserve their moment in the sun after all the torment we have put them through this season.
Incidentally, Rovers were the featured club on the Football League Show on Saturday night - just our luck on a day we are roundly beaten.
But it was nice to hear Steve Claridge talking about our huge potential and big fan base.
He didn't call us sleeping giants... we all know that phrase has been copyrighted by the other Bristol club.
Sleeping? They are practically comotosed at the moment.
I know it's a puerile, sad state of affairs when your own team loses but life brightens considerably when your biggest nemesis loses, too.
But listening to Radio 5 describing them going 1-0, 2-0 then 3-0 down at Cardiff City and sinking to the bottom of the Championship ... it spread a big grin across my face and helped me forget about our Torquay torture.
You could call it a gas explosion.
It was actually the sound of our glorious bubble being burst.
Ever since Paul Buckle arrived at the Mem we Gasheads have been immersed in a heady atmosphere of optimism and enthusiasm.
For heaven's sake, we've signed 15 new players, ditched the deadwood and performed admirably in our pre-season friendlies.
Our new manager has spoken so positively about everything he plans to achieve, and our opening day win at Wimbledon was achieved with a certain style and panache.
And then came Torquay.
This is Torquay, the team Buckle left at the end of last season after they had been beaten in the League 2 play-off.
The team we robbed and pillaged of manager, assistant manager, goalkeeper and striker.
Our little west country cousins who were left forlorn and without hope by this merciless raid by their big city neighbours.
In fact, with Torquay being our first opponents at the Mem in the league this season they were only their as fodder in an exhibition put on by our new, exciting, attack-minded, promotion favourites.
Then reality struck.
Big city slickers 1, Quaint side on the Devon riviera 2
And we were 2-0 down after 20 minutes in front of over 8,000 deflated Gasheads.
Even more irritating was the fact that Rene Howe, the burly striker who while on loan to us last season managed to accumulate one goal and a hatful of (to my mind) unfair critics.
How could it go so wrong? Is this the big con? Has Mr Buckle hoodwinked us like a clever card sharp getting the better of Penn and Teller on a Saturday night primetime show?
Or is it just that everything has gone SO right so far that, being Bristol Rovers, it would inevitably come to an end?
When you think you are nailed on for success, football quite often turns around and bites you in the backside.
But I have faith in our new manager.
I still believe that he is building a team to excite us and bring success to our club.
And I will confidently predict that Bristol Rovers will finish above Torquay at the end of the season.
For the moment, though, the bragging rights belong to Gulls fans and, quite frankly, they probably deserve their moment in the sun after all the torment we have put them through this season.
Incidentally, Rovers were the featured club on the Football League Show on Saturday night - just our luck on a day we are roundly beaten.
But it was nice to hear Steve Claridge talking about our huge potential and big fan base.
He didn't call us sleeping giants... we all know that phrase has been copyrighted by the other Bristol club.
Sleeping? They are practically comotosed at the moment.
I know it's a puerile, sad state of affairs when your own team loses but life brightens considerably when your biggest nemesis loses, too.
But listening to Radio 5 describing them going 1-0, 2-0 then 3-0 down at Cardiff City and sinking to the bottom of the Championship ... it spread a big grin across my face and helped me forget about our Torquay torture.
Friday, 12 August 2011
Thin Lines (between love and hate)
Chris Lines was like Marmite.
You either loved him or hated him.
Now the player who caused such a split in the Gashead ranks has finally jumped ship and moved to Sheffield Wednesday.
We expected it would happen sooner or later.
All summer the talk has been of where he would go, not if he would be going at all.
Then he had a trial with Crystal Palace and it seemed he was on his way, only for them to decide maybe he wasn't the answer to their myriad problems.
So he was welcomed back into the fold by our manager Paul Buckle and it seemed he would be our player for another season.
Interestingly, he was left on the bench for the opening game against AFC Wimbledon and came on in the second half.
It was something all three of our managers refused to countenance last season - if he was fit, he was in the team.
It indicated that Buckle didn't really consider him as part of his plans, particularly with the acquisition of Craig Stanley and Matt Gill, two highly experienced midfielders.
Lines, like most young players, has good days and bad days.
When he was good, he could be very good.
But on other occasions he went missing - particularly when the going got tough.
In our relegation battle he seemed to fade in and out of the action.
Perhaps, the situation was all too comfortable for him at his hometown club.
Rarely, though, did I see him grab a game by the scruff of the neck.
He scored the odd spectacular free kick, and drifted into the box now and again.
But, certainly in the blue and white quarters, he became a bit of a luxury last season when we needed 11 players scrapping for the cause.
It will be interesting to see how he fares at a club in another part of the country where he hasn't been brought up and nurtured - a small fish in a big pool.
Meanwhile, this Saturday will be a big day for our manager Paul Buckle. He comes up against his former club Torquay at the Mem.
Unfortunately I can't be there, but I am already impressed with his professional approach.
He says it is just about getting the three points, not about any side issues. And when he says it you believe him.
Here's hoping for three more points tomorrow.
You either loved him or hated him.
Now the player who caused such a split in the Gashead ranks has finally jumped ship and moved to Sheffield Wednesday.
We expected it would happen sooner or later.
All summer the talk has been of where he would go, not if he would be going at all.
Then he had a trial with Crystal Palace and it seemed he was on his way, only for them to decide maybe he wasn't the answer to their myriad problems.
So he was welcomed back into the fold by our manager Paul Buckle and it seemed he would be our player for another season.
Interestingly, he was left on the bench for the opening game against AFC Wimbledon and came on in the second half.
It was something all three of our managers refused to countenance last season - if he was fit, he was in the team.
It indicated that Buckle didn't really consider him as part of his plans, particularly with the acquisition of Craig Stanley and Matt Gill, two highly experienced midfielders.
Lines, like most young players, has good days and bad days.
When he was good, he could be very good.
But on other occasions he went missing - particularly when the going got tough.
In our relegation battle he seemed to fade in and out of the action.
Perhaps, the situation was all too comfortable for him at his hometown club.
Rarely, though, did I see him grab a game by the scruff of the neck.
He scored the odd spectacular free kick, and drifted into the box now and again.
But, certainly in the blue and white quarters, he became a bit of a luxury last season when we needed 11 players scrapping for the cause.
It will be interesting to see how he fares at a club in another part of the country where he hasn't been brought up and nurtured - a small fish in a big pool.
Meanwhile, this Saturday will be a big day for our manager Paul Buckle. He comes up against his former club Torquay at the Mem.
Unfortunately I can't be there, but I am already impressed with his professional approach.
He says it is just about getting the three points, not about any side issues. And when he says it you believe him.
Here's hoping for three more points tomorrow.
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
Left - and right - wing revolution
Can't believe what I saw in London.
It was just shocking.
A throwback to the 80s perhaps.
Or even to the late 70s at the time of the miners' strike, when police had to be drafted in from across the country to help out other forces.
Riots?
What riots?
I'm talking about watching a Bristol Rovers side play with wingers.
To be fair, we smashed Wimbledon.
The score may have finished AFC Wimbledon 2, Bristol Rovers 3 but we had 11 shots on target and a total of something like 18 overall. That is about the number we managed for the entirety of last season.
And the reason we are creating chances?
Because we are now playing with genuine width.
We have players like Joe Anyinsah and Mustapha Carayol - not household names at the moment, I grant you - but livewires who are prepared to take on their man, attempt a nifty trick or two and create panic in the opposition defence.
It was certainly panic on the fields of Kingsmeadow as we raced into a 2-0 lead, only to give it up through a brave Wimbledon fightback, finally stealing the points with a penalty from new vice-captain Adam Virgo five minutes from time.
A great start to the season and reason to be cheerful.
But back to the widemen.
I recall a time when Rovers ALWAYS sent their teams out with people capable of attacking on the flanks. Going back to the first time I saw them in the late 60s when Harold Jarman was patrolling the wing.
Harold was a great fans' favourite and even stepped in to manage the club for a time. I recall he also played cricket for Gloucestershire and his claim to fame was that he was a brilliant fielder. I once saw him throw down the stumps from the boundary, instigating an unthinkable run-out of a bemused opposition batsman.
The cry used to go up when Rovers were in full flow. "Ha-a-rold" "Ha-a-rold".
In fact it is making a comeback with our new centre forward Matt Harrold, as far removed from Mr Jarman as it is possible to imagine but a useful weapon with his 6ft 5ins frame up front.
Another lively winger who was always a Tote End favourite was Kenny Stephens who, on his day, could trouble even the best defences.
And after that we had a number of other options - some effective, others much less so - like Stewart Barrowclough, Miah Dennehy and Phil Purnell.
And when we were putting together a particularly young side of home-grown talent at the start of the 1980s I well remember the combination of Keith Curle and the legend that is Micky Barrett attacking from both sides of the field with their pace and speed.
Barrett played for five years for Rovers, scoring 18 goals in 129 appearances before sadly dying at the age of 24 with cancer when it seemed he had a really bright future ahead of him.
Curle went on to play in various positions for different teams, including centre back and full back, and was once classed as the fastest footballer in the country after winning an ITV sprint competition.
It's great to see Rovers playing with width again, something that Gasheads have been demanding for some time.
Next, a bigger test for our livewire wingers - home to Championship Watford in the Carling Cup tonight.
Our beloved neighbours Bristol City were supposed to play their game at home to Swindon last night but it was called off because of the current tension up and down the country.
Not surprised really. I hear Ipswich ran riot at Ashton Gate on Saturday.
It was just shocking.
A throwback to the 80s perhaps.
Or even to the late 70s at the time of the miners' strike, when police had to be drafted in from across the country to help out other forces.
Riots?
What riots?
I'm talking about watching a Bristol Rovers side play with wingers.
To be fair, we smashed Wimbledon.
The score may have finished AFC Wimbledon 2, Bristol Rovers 3 but we had 11 shots on target and a total of something like 18 overall. That is about the number we managed for the entirety of last season.
And the reason we are creating chances?
Because we are now playing with genuine width.
We have players like Joe Anyinsah and Mustapha Carayol - not household names at the moment, I grant you - but livewires who are prepared to take on their man, attempt a nifty trick or two and create panic in the opposition defence.
It was certainly panic on the fields of Kingsmeadow as we raced into a 2-0 lead, only to give it up through a brave Wimbledon fightback, finally stealing the points with a penalty from new vice-captain Adam Virgo five minutes from time.
A great start to the season and reason to be cheerful.
But back to the widemen.
I recall a time when Rovers ALWAYS sent their teams out with people capable of attacking on the flanks. Going back to the first time I saw them in the late 60s when Harold Jarman was patrolling the wing.
Harold was a great fans' favourite and even stepped in to manage the club for a time. I recall he also played cricket for Gloucestershire and his claim to fame was that he was a brilliant fielder. I once saw him throw down the stumps from the boundary, instigating an unthinkable run-out of a bemused opposition batsman.
The cry used to go up when Rovers were in full flow. "Ha-a-rold" "Ha-a-rold".
In fact it is making a comeback with our new centre forward Matt Harrold, as far removed from Mr Jarman as it is possible to imagine but a useful weapon with his 6ft 5ins frame up front.
Another lively winger who was always a Tote End favourite was Kenny Stephens who, on his day, could trouble even the best defences.
And after that we had a number of other options - some effective, others much less so - like Stewart Barrowclough, Miah Dennehy and Phil Purnell.
And when we were putting together a particularly young side of home-grown talent at the start of the 1980s I well remember the combination of Keith Curle and the legend that is Micky Barrett attacking from both sides of the field with their pace and speed.
Barrett played for five years for Rovers, scoring 18 goals in 129 appearances before sadly dying at the age of 24 with cancer when it seemed he had a really bright future ahead of him.
Curle went on to play in various positions for different teams, including centre back and full back, and was once classed as the fastest footballer in the country after winning an ITV sprint competition.
It's great to see Rovers playing with width again, something that Gasheads have been demanding for some time.
Next, a bigger test for our livewire wingers - home to Championship Watford in the Carling Cup tonight.
Our beloved neighbours Bristol City were supposed to play their game at home to Swindon last night but it was called off because of the current tension up and down the country.
Not surprised really. I hear Ipswich ran riot at Ashton Gate on Saturday.
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
Buckle up!
At about the same time that the mighty Bristol Rovers will be embarking on their all-conquering League 2 campaign I will probably be staring at Jordan's boobs... or maybe Rihanna's rear end.
All good, no doubt some people are thinking, but not when you are the kind of football freak who would politely ask a naked Beyonce to move aside in order to have a quick one-to-one with our new manager Paul Buckle.
Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that in order to keep a roof over my family's head I have had to switch allegiances from sports journalism to working on the news pages of one of our national red-top newspapers.
Those who read my last blog entry will already know that I am one of the innocent victims of the News of the World massacre, in which 280 people were given the bullet because of some rather shady goings-on at that paper ten years ago, mainly actioned by those who have long since departed.
Fortunately, some very kindly journos on another London tabloid took pity on me and invited me in to help them out and now I am just hoping I can persuade the powers-that-be it is of vital importance that Sky's coverage of AFC Wimbledon v Bristol Rovers is showing in the newsroom this Saturday.
For this is the start of one of the most successful seasons in Bristol Rovers history. A season when we will equal the Invincibles of Arsene Wenger, go 46 league games unbeaten and reach the semi-finals of the two most prestigious cup competitions in the country while winning the Johnstone's Paint Trophy by default because the others are too scared to play us.
And on what do I base this unbridled optimism?
Well, the enthusiasm of fellow Gasheads for starters.
They are not only overflowing with optimism on the official website's fans forum, but the many followers I have amassed on twitter are super-confident, too.
Infact, due to a clever little idea called GasFollowBack, where each gashead who "followed" another on twitter immediately got "followed" back,I am probably in contact with the majority of our fan base now.
Confusing, I know, if you aren't on Twitter and aren't privy to these 20-word spoutings of modern-day philosophy.
Back to the Gas, though, and added to this Tsunami of positivity, I have seen two highly impressive pre-season friendly performances against Championship opposition - a 2-0 victory over Burnley and a 2-1 defeat to Reading, though we were winning 1-0 at half time when we took all our star players off to give them a rest and put our reserves on in their place.
The mood at the Mem is buzzing.
I even took little Livvy, aged one year and one month, along on her pink trike to the "family funday", which attracted an attendance that would have beaten most of those for home matches last season.
She cycled in front of the DAS stand and got a bird's eye view of the Hallowe'd turf, though getting her mode of transport into the dressing rooms or into the top tier of the Uplands Stands so that I could meet the players was a bit too much to ask.
Still, they are all together buzzing, I've learned. They are highly tuned to the new manager's wavelength and are ready to batter everyone insight.
We have virtually a new backroom staff, a new team and just a few stragglers from the hell that was season 2010-2011.
The party has started... and we haven't even kicked a ball in anger.
Where can it go wrong?
All good, no doubt some people are thinking, but not when you are the kind of football freak who would politely ask a naked Beyonce to move aside in order to have a quick one-to-one with our new manager Paul Buckle.
Anyway, the point I am trying to make is that in order to keep a roof over my family's head I have had to switch allegiances from sports journalism to working on the news pages of one of our national red-top newspapers.
Those who read my last blog entry will already know that I am one of the innocent victims of the News of the World massacre, in which 280 people were given the bullet because of some rather shady goings-on at that paper ten years ago, mainly actioned by those who have long since departed.
Fortunately, some very kindly journos on another London tabloid took pity on me and invited me in to help them out and now I am just hoping I can persuade the powers-that-be it is of vital importance that Sky's coverage of AFC Wimbledon v Bristol Rovers is showing in the newsroom this Saturday.
For this is the start of one of the most successful seasons in Bristol Rovers history. A season when we will equal the Invincibles of Arsene Wenger, go 46 league games unbeaten and reach the semi-finals of the two most prestigious cup competitions in the country while winning the Johnstone's Paint Trophy by default because the others are too scared to play us.
And on what do I base this unbridled optimism?
Well, the enthusiasm of fellow Gasheads for starters.
They are not only overflowing with optimism on the official website's fans forum, but the many followers I have amassed on twitter are super-confident, too.
Infact, due to a clever little idea called GasFollowBack, where each gashead who "followed" another on twitter immediately got "followed" back,I am probably in contact with the majority of our fan base now.
Confusing, I know, if you aren't on Twitter and aren't privy to these 20-word spoutings of modern-day philosophy.
Back to the Gas, though, and added to this Tsunami of positivity, I have seen two highly impressive pre-season friendly performances against Championship opposition - a 2-0 victory over Burnley and a 2-1 defeat to Reading, though we were winning 1-0 at half time when we took all our star players off to give them a rest and put our reserves on in their place.
The mood at the Mem is buzzing.
I even took little Livvy, aged one year and one month, along on her pink trike to the "family funday", which attracted an attendance that would have beaten most of those for home matches last season.
She cycled in front of the DAS stand and got a bird's eye view of the Hallowe'd turf, though getting her mode of transport into the dressing rooms or into the top tier of the Uplands Stands so that I could meet the players was a bit too much to ask.
Still, they are all together buzzing, I've learned. They are highly tuned to the new manager's wavelength and are ready to batter everyone insight.
We have virtually a new backroom staff, a new team and just a few stragglers from the hell that was season 2010-2011.
The party has started... and we haven't even kicked a ball in anger.
Where can it go wrong?
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Hacked off
IT'S not exactly been the best of summers for me.
Strange, when you consider my beloved Bristol Rovers have approached the new season with all guns blazing.
A new manager, a new stadium in the offing, 12 new players and a feeling of overwhelming optimism surrounds the Memorial Stadium.
I, on the other hand, have been cast aside like a bad Penny (sorry Dave!)
As my loyal reader will recall, I was working on the sports desk of a busy Sunday newspaper up in London.
I can reveal that the newspaper in question was, alas, the now extinct News of the World.
For my sins, I used to be in charge of organising the League One pages among other duties, meaning I would get an early insight into how the Gas were getting on that day.
Of course, since our relegation I was going to request a transfer - to the League Two beat.
But things came to an unexpected halt when, while spending a well-earned week at home on holiday, a mate rang as I was cooking the baby some gourmet food in the kitchen.
"It's the last edition of the News of the World on Saturday," he said.
"Don't talk b****cks," was my succinct reply. The pal in question has a nasty habit of trying to wind me up.
"Seriously," he persisted, "put on BBC news 24."
I tried to resist but underneath it all there was a nagging feeling he might be on the level.
All day I had been hearing that big advertisers like Sainsbury's and Argos - who, in a roundabout way, pay my wages - were withdrawing their advertising over the notorious hackgate affair.
And sure enough, there it was, tickertaping across the bottom of the screen as breaking news.
Bloody hell.
I'd joined the paper two years ago because newspaper journalism has been dying all around me and I formed the opinion that if the ship was sinking you might as well be on the one with the tallest mast.
No way at that stage could I have realised I was boarding the Titanic.
The really annoying thing is I never did get sent on the "how to hack someone's voicemail" course.
Otherwise, just imagine the gems I could reveal to fellow Gasheads on the fans forum.
Of course, my first job would have been to keep tabs on our former boss Paul Trollope and director of football Lennie Lawrence. I might well have been able to map out where it went wrong for them (other than the fact the team were getting thrashed every week, of course).
Transfers, for instance.
Our efforts to replace the deity that is Rickie Lambert with a striker of similar abilities.
Employ your imagination for just a second and this is what I might have been able to reveal...
"This is Paul Trollope, I'm not here at the moment but if you would care to leave your name and number I'll get back to you..."
"Mr Trollope, this is the solicitor representing Chris Wood, the West Bromwich Albion striker. I am calling to inform you that today we have applied to the high court for an injunction order forbidding you to contact our client any more.
"Your continual calls over the last few months amount to nothing more than stalking. Chris DOES NOT, and never has, wanted to join your football club."
Or how about this scenario...
"This is Lennie Lawrence etc etc.."
"Hi Mr Lawrence. Sod ya."
Next day: Rovers believe they are closing in on a deal for Charlton's Akpo Sodje and have let Darryl Duffy join Carlisle on loan to free up the wage bill.
Or maybe this...
"Hi Mr Lawrence, this is the agent for Chris Lines. He would love to sign his new, whopping mega contract but he will do so on one condition. That, when fit, Chris is GUARANTEED a place in the first team, however bad his form. We look forward to hearing from you."
Finally, imagine if you actually had the chance to monitor the answer phone of Nick Higgs...
"Hi Mr Higgs, this is David Penney. I would love to come and manage your club for a couple of months for a decent fee. I agree to the condition that I will try my hardest to make Bristol Rovers appear even worse than they have done already this season so that you can then publicly fire me, rip up the squad, and start again... emerging as the hero of the hour."
Of course, these conversations never took place.
It's all make believe.
But oh how I wish.
Got to go now though. Something urgent's just come up.
My sources tell me that Didier Drogba is on the line to Paul Buckle as we speak...
Strange, when you consider my beloved Bristol Rovers have approached the new season with all guns blazing.
A new manager, a new stadium in the offing, 12 new players and a feeling of overwhelming optimism surrounds the Memorial Stadium.
I, on the other hand, have been cast aside like a bad Penny (sorry Dave!)
As my loyal reader will recall, I was working on the sports desk of a busy Sunday newspaper up in London.
I can reveal that the newspaper in question was, alas, the now extinct News of the World.
For my sins, I used to be in charge of organising the League One pages among other duties, meaning I would get an early insight into how the Gas were getting on that day.
Of course, since our relegation I was going to request a transfer - to the League Two beat.
But things came to an unexpected halt when, while spending a well-earned week at home on holiday, a mate rang as I was cooking the baby some gourmet food in the kitchen.
"It's the last edition of the News of the World on Saturday," he said.
"Don't talk b****cks," was my succinct reply. The pal in question has a nasty habit of trying to wind me up.
"Seriously," he persisted, "put on BBC news 24."
I tried to resist but underneath it all there was a nagging feeling he might be on the level.
All day I had been hearing that big advertisers like Sainsbury's and Argos - who, in a roundabout way, pay my wages - were withdrawing their advertising over the notorious hackgate affair.
And sure enough, there it was, tickertaping across the bottom of the screen as breaking news.
Bloody hell.
I'd joined the paper two years ago because newspaper journalism has been dying all around me and I formed the opinion that if the ship was sinking you might as well be on the one with the tallest mast.
No way at that stage could I have realised I was boarding the Titanic.
The really annoying thing is I never did get sent on the "how to hack someone's voicemail" course.
Otherwise, just imagine the gems I could reveal to fellow Gasheads on the fans forum.
Of course, my first job would have been to keep tabs on our former boss Paul Trollope and director of football Lennie Lawrence. I might well have been able to map out where it went wrong for them (other than the fact the team were getting thrashed every week, of course).
Transfers, for instance.
Our efforts to replace the deity that is Rickie Lambert with a striker of similar abilities.
Employ your imagination for just a second and this is what I might have been able to reveal...
"This is Paul Trollope, I'm not here at the moment but if you would care to leave your name and number I'll get back to you..."
"Mr Trollope, this is the solicitor representing Chris Wood, the West Bromwich Albion striker. I am calling to inform you that today we have applied to the high court for an injunction order forbidding you to contact our client any more.
"Your continual calls over the last few months amount to nothing more than stalking. Chris DOES NOT, and never has, wanted to join your football club."
Or how about this scenario...
"This is Lennie Lawrence etc etc.."
"Hi Mr Lawrence. Sod ya."
Next day: Rovers believe they are closing in on a deal for Charlton's Akpo Sodje and have let Darryl Duffy join Carlisle on loan to free up the wage bill.
Or maybe this...
"Hi Mr Lawrence, this is the agent for Chris Lines. He would love to sign his new, whopping mega contract but he will do so on one condition. That, when fit, Chris is GUARANTEED a place in the first team, however bad his form. We look forward to hearing from you."
Finally, imagine if you actually had the chance to monitor the answer phone of Nick Higgs...
"Hi Mr Higgs, this is David Penney. I would love to come and manage your club for a couple of months for a decent fee. I agree to the condition that I will try my hardest to make Bristol Rovers appear even worse than they have done already this season so that you can then publicly fire me, rip up the squad, and start again... emerging as the hero of the hour."
Of course, these conversations never took place.
It's all make believe.
But oh how I wish.
Got to go now though. Something urgent's just come up.
My sources tell me that Didier Drogba is on the line to Paul Buckle as we speak...
Friday, 10 June 2011
Uwwwweeeee!
So there I was, battling to get my bonnet catch to close so I could drive to work in London.
I was dropping it down and it was bouncing back up.
I was pushing it firmly, but it wouldn't stay shut.
Eventually I resorted to kicking it.
I was moments away from jumping up and down on it.
Giving up, I called the AA.
And was told I would have a two-hour wait.
Late for work, in a foul mood, the wife and baby cowering away upstairs trying to avoid the after-shocks of the Rippers eruption, it was a bad day.
I slumped down on the sofa, feeling hopeless.
Turned on Sky Sports News just to take my mind off my miserable morning.
And sat, speechless, as the information that would change my mood filtered across the bottom of the screen.
League 2: Bristol Rovers are planning to relocate to a new 20,000-seater stadium.
Had I dozed off?
Was this just a series of dreams as I found myself in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness?
Was my alarm poised to go off at any moment so I'd have to go through the whole process of getting up, showering and dressing again?
But no.
Checking on the website there it was in Blue and White.
Rovers were planning to sell the Mem, pack their bags and move to a new stadium at the University site in Frenchay.
Yes, the University site that is just a cough and spit from where I live.
Not only that but if the move goes ahead it will wipe out our debts, improve our crowds and get us heading back up the football pyramid again.
Phew!
Now the master plan all makes sense.
We have just appointed a young, upwardly-mobile young manager in Paul Buckle, who we enticed away from Torquay where he had led them to three play-off finals in four years.
He has been given a budget and is bringing in an entirely new squad to replace the flotsam and jetsum that sent us hurtling back down to the Football League basement.
Already we have a new goalkeeper in the 6ft 6ins Scott Bevan (a permanent one for the first time in two seasons), and two new highly-rated midfielders in Craig Stanley and Matt Gill.
This is it.
The rebirth.
The start of the campaign that will see Bristol Rovers conquer League 2, League 1, the Championship, the Premiership, Europe and the world.
As it is announced, so it shall be written...
Or am I just getting a wee bit carried away?
After all, have I not learnt in my 40-odd years supporting the Gas that things NEVER come simply?
Have I not been reading stories in the local Evening paper since way back in 1971 about Bristol Rovers planning to build a new stadium?
For one reason or another they have always petered out, faded away to dust, leaving us on a nomadic journey which has taken us from Eastville, to Ashton Gate (for a, thankfully, brief spell), to Twerton Park in the neighbouring city of Bath and finally to the Mem.
Everyone tells me it will be different this time.
That the project has had careful planning, the product of two years of fruitful discussion between directors, the University and the council.
Ah, the council. The political wheelers dealers of the biggest metropolis in the west country who rank football alongside backgammon in its level of importance to the area.
The people who, through pure apathy and ignorance, have failed to see the merits of big sporting clubs to one of Britain's major cities.
And did I notice in the small print that we have no planning permission for the new site, and that purchasers of the old site will also have to get approval for a change of use?
Worst case scenario we could end up with a nice big Sainsbury's in Horfield and the Rovers without a ground again, having to go cap in hand to neighbours City or move back in with Bath.
Nothing would surprise me.
But for the moment I shall go along with the euphoria as best I can, though my glass has always been half empty where my beloved Gas are concerned.
I will take part in the naming games - supporting any move to get the Tote End re-established, while suggesting the Pasty Shop should be named after Jim Eadie, the porky goalkeeper of our glorious promotion team of 74.
But I will do it with just the slightest nagging suspicion that it is all too good to be true.
Meanwhile, back to reality and the AA man finally turns up.
He squirts some oil on my offending parts, and the bonnet slams shut at the first attempt.
Typical.
A quick fix.
I will wait to be convinced that the UWE Stadium and Paul Buckle will provide the same rapid restoration of my glorious football heroes.
I was dropping it down and it was bouncing back up.
I was pushing it firmly, but it wouldn't stay shut.
Eventually I resorted to kicking it.
I was moments away from jumping up and down on it.
Giving up, I called the AA.
And was told I would have a two-hour wait.
Late for work, in a foul mood, the wife and baby cowering away upstairs trying to avoid the after-shocks of the Rippers eruption, it was a bad day.
I slumped down on the sofa, feeling hopeless.
Turned on Sky Sports News just to take my mind off my miserable morning.
And sat, speechless, as the information that would change my mood filtered across the bottom of the screen.
League 2: Bristol Rovers are planning to relocate to a new 20,000-seater stadium.
Had I dozed off?
Was this just a series of dreams as I found myself in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness?
Was my alarm poised to go off at any moment so I'd have to go through the whole process of getting up, showering and dressing again?
But no.
Checking on the website there it was in Blue and White.
Rovers were planning to sell the Mem, pack their bags and move to a new stadium at the University site in Frenchay.
Yes, the University site that is just a cough and spit from where I live.
Not only that but if the move goes ahead it will wipe out our debts, improve our crowds and get us heading back up the football pyramid again.
Phew!
Now the master plan all makes sense.
We have just appointed a young, upwardly-mobile young manager in Paul Buckle, who we enticed away from Torquay where he had led them to three play-off finals in four years.
He has been given a budget and is bringing in an entirely new squad to replace the flotsam and jetsum that sent us hurtling back down to the Football League basement.
Already we have a new goalkeeper in the 6ft 6ins Scott Bevan (a permanent one for the first time in two seasons), and two new highly-rated midfielders in Craig Stanley and Matt Gill.
This is it.
The rebirth.
The start of the campaign that will see Bristol Rovers conquer League 2, League 1, the Championship, the Premiership, Europe and the world.
As it is announced, so it shall be written...
Or am I just getting a wee bit carried away?
After all, have I not learnt in my 40-odd years supporting the Gas that things NEVER come simply?
Have I not been reading stories in the local Evening paper since way back in 1971 about Bristol Rovers planning to build a new stadium?
For one reason or another they have always petered out, faded away to dust, leaving us on a nomadic journey which has taken us from Eastville, to Ashton Gate (for a, thankfully, brief spell), to Twerton Park in the neighbouring city of Bath and finally to the Mem.
Everyone tells me it will be different this time.
That the project has had careful planning, the product of two years of fruitful discussion between directors, the University and the council.
Ah, the council. The political wheelers dealers of the biggest metropolis in the west country who rank football alongside backgammon in its level of importance to the area.
The people who, through pure apathy and ignorance, have failed to see the merits of big sporting clubs to one of Britain's major cities.
And did I notice in the small print that we have no planning permission for the new site, and that purchasers of the old site will also have to get approval for a change of use?
Worst case scenario we could end up with a nice big Sainsbury's in Horfield and the Rovers without a ground again, having to go cap in hand to neighbours City or move back in with Bath.
Nothing would surprise me.
But for the moment I shall go along with the euphoria as best I can, though my glass has always been half empty where my beloved Gas are concerned.
I will take part in the naming games - supporting any move to get the Tote End re-established, while suggesting the Pasty Shop should be named after Jim Eadie, the porky goalkeeper of our glorious promotion team of 74.
But I will do it with just the slightest nagging suspicion that it is all too good to be true.
Meanwhile, back to reality and the AA man finally turns up.
He squirts some oil on my offending parts, and the bonnet slams shut at the first attempt.
Typical.
A quick fix.
I will wait to be convinced that the UWE Stadium and Paul Buckle will provide the same rapid restoration of my glorious football heroes.
Friday, 6 May 2011
Wed and buried
SO that's it then.
All over.
Our final match ended in a 2-1 defeat at Colchester.
And I'm left with the niggling knowledge that if we had managed to scrape just a few more points together over our last few games we would have been safe.
As expected Walsall and Dagenham both lost heavily in their final matches.
Walsall survived and Dagenham dropped with us.
Now I sit here wondering how I really feel about it all.
I don't think I feel sad or upset.
It's more like a completely numb sensation, like my whole body has been plunged into some kind of cryogenic state and won't thaw out until next season.
And breaking through is a hint of anger, too.
Anger that a team that should have been at least good enough to finish above the Tranmeres and Yeovils of this world - as well as a few others I could mention - has fallen away so badly.
Anger that a group of players on pretty good wages, with pretty decent reputations, were unable to perform to anything like their potential.
Anger that two managers failed to motivate them to display the required passion and commitment to maintain the status achieved for them by those who had gone before.
And anger that no doubt some of them will move on to claim bigger wage packets with other clubs, with barely a glance over their shoulders at the fans they have left behind.
Looking back, I wonder how it ever came to this . . .
IT was my second wedding anniversary this week.
When you celebrate such a milestone your thoughts inevitably drift back to the time you got married.
And sometimes you need signposts to jog your memory about that special time.
Well, I recall we had to switch the date, for starters.
We were all ready to go for the second bank holiday in May.
Then my brother texted me.
"What if Rovers got to the League One play-off final? That would be on the same Sunday," he pointed out.
After "consultation" with my wife, we moved it forward to the first bank holiday weekend of the month. She didn't want me having wistful thoughts of Ricky Lambert while she was walking down the aisle.
Even though I knew there was precious little chance of us competing for promotion I agreed, realising as I did that the decision had now jinxed our play-off chances.
Anyway, we settled on May 3.
The day before the nuptials I dragged my best man, a Crewe Alex supporter, along to the Mem to see the Mighty Gas in the last game of the season.
He wasn't disappointed.
We won 4-0.
Paul Trollope adopted an adventurous approach, playing three strikers in our goalscoring hero Lambert, Darryl Duffy and Jo Kuffour.
And we tore our north East visitors apart.
We even had a youngster on the wing I had barely heard of, who put in a performance to mesmerise the Hartlepool defence. A kid called Charlie Reece.
It was a day when I thought the future for those in the Blue and White Quarters looked refreshingly bright.
Flash forward exactly two years and here we are.
Going down to League 2 after a shambolic season.
Where did it all go wrong?
Quite simply, Lambert was the key to everything.
We had won matches, even in our promotion year, that were turned our way simply because of the happy knack he had of finding the target.
To lose Lambert after just one game the following season - admittedly for a decent fee - to Southampton was careless.
To then fail to replace him was downright calamitous.
Duffy and Kuffour were never going to gel into a prolific attack, they both needed a powerhouse down the middle to feed off. And the addition of loan players here and there was a gamble that only had a 50/50 chance at best.
Chris Dickson came in from Charlton and did well for a time, but he didn't have the all-round game, or determination, that Lambert possessed.
Trollope was also distracted by the fact we had managed to push ourselves into the top reaches of the league early in the season, failing to spot the obvious weaknesses that needed to be dealt with.
When things went wrong - a run of seven consecutive defeats - we carried on without a proven goalscorer, even though the board said there was money available to replace our talisman.
Then there was the ridiculous situation in the January transfer window when not only did we fail to bring a striker in, but we also let one of the only ones we had - Duffy - go out on loan to Carlisle.
The emergency loan signing of Paul Heffernan from Doncaster papered over the cracks, and persuaded supporters that we were a comfortable mid-table club when, without his presence, we would have been fighting a relegation battle a year earlier.
When Heffernan went we lapsed back to our old ways and struggled to see the season out, putting together another string of poor results.
But despite the obvious warnings we didn't strengthen an area where we blatantly needed more power - up front.
Yes, we signed Will Hoskins - a brilliant addition - but I just wonder what he would have done with a bustling, traditional centre forward beside him.
Instead, Duffy went on loan to Hibernian for a year and once again we were left with two strikers on the books.
Meanwhile, we had so many central midfielders that many of them couldn't get a game in Trollope's rigid 4-4-2 system. When they did, players like Wayne Brown and Dominic Blizzard well played out of position.
Without the guiding hand of the experienced Lennie Lawrence, who had left the club, Trolls undoubtedly struggled and it didn't seem he had anyone to turn to when things went wrong.
There were some dire results - including an appalling 6-1 defeat at the hands of League 2 Oxford - and though results improved from there, Gasheads never had the feeling that we were going to dominate teams in the way we had managed on occasion two years earlier.
Even his new assistant Darren Patterson, promoted from looking after the youth team, didn't appear to have much influence on the manager.
When Trollope was sacked Patterson suggested we hadn't been playing the right way, and that there were glaring gaps in the squad. Strange for a right-hand man to criticise the man who actually gave him his promotion, I thought.
This was in December, when the problems should really have been identified before the season started. One wondered why Patterson hadn't spoken up before, preferably to Trolls himself.
As the catalogue of mistakes continued the board dragged their feet over appointing Trollope's replacement.
They had the ideal opportunity to act quickly. Bad weather meant a number of games were called off so though the Gas had slipped into the bottom four the new boss would have more time to lift us out of it - PLUS he would have the January transfer window.
But time dragged on and when Dave Penney finally arrived he had missed a good opportunity to get to know the players while they were sat around kicking their heels at snow-covered training grounds.
His initial thoughts were that he could get us out of the mess.
He hadn't counted on Rovers Jekyll and Hyde nature.
A promising 2-2 draw at home to Walsall seemed to show the team was capable of a decent level of football, but it was followed by a 4-0 defeat at Carlisle.
Penney was convinced the main job for himself and new assistant manager Martin Foyle was to shore up the defence.
The introduction of Dave McCracken, on loan from Brentford, seemed to have done the trick as they kept a clean sheet in a 0-0 home draw against Hartlepool.
It was followed by a 3-1 win at home to local rivals Swindon and it looked like the new boss had turned the corner.
But then came another of those days when the OTHER Rovers turned up. Worse still, it was the return game against relegation rivals Walsall.
They were hammered 6-1, a pitiful display in front of a good following.
And this wasn't about bad defending, it was about a failure to compete across the board.
Penney needed new characters, and quick. But he was running out of time.
He attempted to tackle the problem by bringing in non-contract players like Gavin Williams from Bristol City and Danny Senda from Torquay.
And, having run out of patience with young goalkeeper Scott Daniels, on loan from West Brom, he bought in Conrad Logan from Leicester.
To Penney's credit, most of them were good additions.
But still the problem was there. Who would score the goals?
Even the output of the reliable Hoskins had now dried up while Kuffour was so ineffective he was replaced by the bustling, hard working Rene Howe, on loan from Peterborough.
But whatever Penney tried, he couldn't seem to get a run going.
What's more a large number of fans, having been "warned" that his style of football wasn't the most eyecatching by supporters of his previous club Oldham, began to turn on him over his tactics.
In the end he signed his own death warrant. Well, spoke it anyway.
After a 2-0 home defeat by relegation rivals Dagenham he told the press Rovers looked like they were going down.
A few days later - in a move that shocked many - he was dismissed and replaced by stalwart midfielder Stuart Campbell.
It was a last throw of the dice by the board. A gamble. They had no idea whether it would work.
But they needed to galvanise Rovers support in a last desperate attempt to get the fans through the turnstyles.
And at first it paid off. Three successive away wins, a new spirit, a home draw against promotion-chasing Peterborough and things looked bright.
But once the initial bounce wore off it became clear that the strength of the squad to maintain a higher standard as the games came thick and fast was just not there.
Nor was the quality.
And when Rovers failed to beat Sheffield Wednesday they were down.
Who to blame? You can't pick out any single person in this sorry tale.
If a lesson is to be learned it must be in the planning.
The board were naive. They believed that the playing side of things was sorted. The team was in the capable hands of Paul Trollope and the priority was now a new stadium.
They couldn't react quickly enough, or see the danger signs early enough.
And I also believe they lost their bottle in the end, dismissing a manager after 13 games when I still think he needed to be able to execute a long-term plan.
Paul Trollope was inexperienced, particularly in the transfer market.
He started to build what he hoped would be a Championship side by signing players he believed to be decent footballers on good deals. He looked at their ability, but I wonder how much he looked into their character.
Too many of them went missing when the going got tough.
He also made two cardinal errors.
He FAILED to plan ahead for a time when Lambert would leave the club.
And he went into a particularly long, hard season with a squad that didn't have enough cover in vital positions.
A friend to many players, his departure also left the new manager with an unenviable task.
Dave Penney failed to revitalise the team and build their confidence.
Perhaps he pointed out their weaknesses in public too much.
These players weren't used to being criticised under the previous boss.
And he made the cardinal error of writing off Rovers chances of escape too soon.
Stuart Campbell, of course, did nothing wrong and a hell of a lot right.
But the players? They lacked character in adversity, leaders on the pitch and quality in vital positions. I also believe that for too long they believed the myth they were too good to go down.
Their failure to play for Penney - whatever they thought of his manner or his tactics - was simply unforgivable.
One thing is for sure. You cannot go into League 2 with players unprepared to compete for every ball, put their body in where it hurts and hunker down for a scrap.
You also need players - like the Lamberts of this world - who know where the net is and hit it regularly.
I don't know where we will be this time next year.
Important decisions must be made.
But I'll keep supporting the Gas, knowing that however often we get knocked down it is worth it, if only for those times when we surprise even ourselves by punching above our weight.
And if there is one thing we Gasheads have it is resilience and loyalty.
So to all those fans from across the other side of the City who think that our new lowly status will send us in droves to Ashton Gate to watch Championship football - think again.
Because it may not be this year, or next year, or even a few years from now ... but some day down the line I'm sure the Gas will rise again.
All over.
Our final match ended in a 2-1 defeat at Colchester.
And I'm left with the niggling knowledge that if we had managed to scrape just a few more points together over our last few games we would have been safe.
As expected Walsall and Dagenham both lost heavily in their final matches.
Walsall survived and Dagenham dropped with us.
Now I sit here wondering how I really feel about it all.
I don't think I feel sad or upset.
It's more like a completely numb sensation, like my whole body has been plunged into some kind of cryogenic state and won't thaw out until next season.
And breaking through is a hint of anger, too.
Anger that a team that should have been at least good enough to finish above the Tranmeres and Yeovils of this world - as well as a few others I could mention - has fallen away so badly.
Anger that a group of players on pretty good wages, with pretty decent reputations, were unable to perform to anything like their potential.
Anger that two managers failed to motivate them to display the required passion and commitment to maintain the status achieved for them by those who had gone before.
And anger that no doubt some of them will move on to claim bigger wage packets with other clubs, with barely a glance over their shoulders at the fans they have left behind.
Looking back, I wonder how it ever came to this . . .
IT was my second wedding anniversary this week.
When you celebrate such a milestone your thoughts inevitably drift back to the time you got married.
And sometimes you need signposts to jog your memory about that special time.
Well, I recall we had to switch the date, for starters.
We were all ready to go for the second bank holiday in May.
Then my brother texted me.
"What if Rovers got to the League One play-off final? That would be on the same Sunday," he pointed out.
After "consultation" with my wife, we moved it forward to the first bank holiday weekend of the month. She didn't want me having wistful thoughts of Ricky Lambert while she was walking down the aisle.
Even though I knew there was precious little chance of us competing for promotion I agreed, realising as I did that the decision had now jinxed our play-off chances.
Anyway, we settled on May 3.
The day before the nuptials I dragged my best man, a Crewe Alex supporter, along to the Mem to see the Mighty Gas in the last game of the season.
He wasn't disappointed.
We won 4-0.
Paul Trollope adopted an adventurous approach, playing three strikers in our goalscoring hero Lambert, Darryl Duffy and Jo Kuffour.
And we tore our north East visitors apart.
We even had a youngster on the wing I had barely heard of, who put in a performance to mesmerise the Hartlepool defence. A kid called Charlie Reece.
It was a day when I thought the future for those in the Blue and White Quarters looked refreshingly bright.
Flash forward exactly two years and here we are.
Going down to League 2 after a shambolic season.
Where did it all go wrong?
Quite simply, Lambert was the key to everything.
We had won matches, even in our promotion year, that were turned our way simply because of the happy knack he had of finding the target.
To lose Lambert after just one game the following season - admittedly for a decent fee - to Southampton was careless.
To then fail to replace him was downright calamitous.
Duffy and Kuffour were never going to gel into a prolific attack, they both needed a powerhouse down the middle to feed off. And the addition of loan players here and there was a gamble that only had a 50/50 chance at best.
Chris Dickson came in from Charlton and did well for a time, but he didn't have the all-round game, or determination, that Lambert possessed.
Trollope was also distracted by the fact we had managed to push ourselves into the top reaches of the league early in the season, failing to spot the obvious weaknesses that needed to be dealt with.
When things went wrong - a run of seven consecutive defeats - we carried on without a proven goalscorer, even though the board said there was money available to replace our talisman.
Then there was the ridiculous situation in the January transfer window when not only did we fail to bring a striker in, but we also let one of the only ones we had - Duffy - go out on loan to Carlisle.
The emergency loan signing of Paul Heffernan from Doncaster papered over the cracks, and persuaded supporters that we were a comfortable mid-table club when, without his presence, we would have been fighting a relegation battle a year earlier.
When Heffernan went we lapsed back to our old ways and struggled to see the season out, putting together another string of poor results.
But despite the obvious warnings we didn't strengthen an area where we blatantly needed more power - up front.
Yes, we signed Will Hoskins - a brilliant addition - but I just wonder what he would have done with a bustling, traditional centre forward beside him.
Instead, Duffy went on loan to Hibernian for a year and once again we were left with two strikers on the books.
Meanwhile, we had so many central midfielders that many of them couldn't get a game in Trollope's rigid 4-4-2 system. When they did, players like Wayne Brown and Dominic Blizzard well played out of position.
Without the guiding hand of the experienced Lennie Lawrence, who had left the club, Trolls undoubtedly struggled and it didn't seem he had anyone to turn to when things went wrong.
There were some dire results - including an appalling 6-1 defeat at the hands of League 2 Oxford - and though results improved from there, Gasheads never had the feeling that we were going to dominate teams in the way we had managed on occasion two years earlier.
Even his new assistant Darren Patterson, promoted from looking after the youth team, didn't appear to have much influence on the manager.
When Trollope was sacked Patterson suggested we hadn't been playing the right way, and that there were glaring gaps in the squad. Strange for a right-hand man to criticise the man who actually gave him his promotion, I thought.
This was in December, when the problems should really have been identified before the season started. One wondered why Patterson hadn't spoken up before, preferably to Trolls himself.
As the catalogue of mistakes continued the board dragged their feet over appointing Trollope's replacement.
They had the ideal opportunity to act quickly. Bad weather meant a number of games were called off so though the Gas had slipped into the bottom four the new boss would have more time to lift us out of it - PLUS he would have the January transfer window.
But time dragged on and when Dave Penney finally arrived he had missed a good opportunity to get to know the players while they were sat around kicking their heels at snow-covered training grounds.
His initial thoughts were that he could get us out of the mess.
He hadn't counted on Rovers Jekyll and Hyde nature.
A promising 2-2 draw at home to Walsall seemed to show the team was capable of a decent level of football, but it was followed by a 4-0 defeat at Carlisle.
Penney was convinced the main job for himself and new assistant manager Martin Foyle was to shore up the defence.
The introduction of Dave McCracken, on loan from Brentford, seemed to have done the trick as they kept a clean sheet in a 0-0 home draw against Hartlepool.
It was followed by a 3-1 win at home to local rivals Swindon and it looked like the new boss had turned the corner.
But then came another of those days when the OTHER Rovers turned up. Worse still, it was the return game against relegation rivals Walsall.
They were hammered 6-1, a pitiful display in front of a good following.
And this wasn't about bad defending, it was about a failure to compete across the board.
Penney needed new characters, and quick. But he was running out of time.
He attempted to tackle the problem by bringing in non-contract players like Gavin Williams from Bristol City and Danny Senda from Torquay.
And, having run out of patience with young goalkeeper Scott Daniels, on loan from West Brom, he bought in Conrad Logan from Leicester.
To Penney's credit, most of them were good additions.
But still the problem was there. Who would score the goals?
Even the output of the reliable Hoskins had now dried up while Kuffour was so ineffective he was replaced by the bustling, hard working Rene Howe, on loan from Peterborough.
But whatever Penney tried, he couldn't seem to get a run going.
What's more a large number of fans, having been "warned" that his style of football wasn't the most eyecatching by supporters of his previous club Oldham, began to turn on him over his tactics.
In the end he signed his own death warrant. Well, spoke it anyway.
After a 2-0 home defeat by relegation rivals Dagenham he told the press Rovers looked like they were going down.
A few days later - in a move that shocked many - he was dismissed and replaced by stalwart midfielder Stuart Campbell.
It was a last throw of the dice by the board. A gamble. They had no idea whether it would work.
But they needed to galvanise Rovers support in a last desperate attempt to get the fans through the turnstyles.
And at first it paid off. Three successive away wins, a new spirit, a home draw against promotion-chasing Peterborough and things looked bright.
But once the initial bounce wore off it became clear that the strength of the squad to maintain a higher standard as the games came thick and fast was just not there.
Nor was the quality.
And when Rovers failed to beat Sheffield Wednesday they were down.
Who to blame? You can't pick out any single person in this sorry tale.
If a lesson is to be learned it must be in the planning.
The board were naive. They believed that the playing side of things was sorted. The team was in the capable hands of Paul Trollope and the priority was now a new stadium.
They couldn't react quickly enough, or see the danger signs early enough.
And I also believe they lost their bottle in the end, dismissing a manager after 13 games when I still think he needed to be able to execute a long-term plan.
Paul Trollope was inexperienced, particularly in the transfer market.
He started to build what he hoped would be a Championship side by signing players he believed to be decent footballers on good deals. He looked at their ability, but I wonder how much he looked into their character.
Too many of them went missing when the going got tough.
He also made two cardinal errors.
He FAILED to plan ahead for a time when Lambert would leave the club.
And he went into a particularly long, hard season with a squad that didn't have enough cover in vital positions.
A friend to many players, his departure also left the new manager with an unenviable task.
Dave Penney failed to revitalise the team and build their confidence.
Perhaps he pointed out their weaknesses in public too much.
These players weren't used to being criticised under the previous boss.
And he made the cardinal error of writing off Rovers chances of escape too soon.
Stuart Campbell, of course, did nothing wrong and a hell of a lot right.
But the players? They lacked character in adversity, leaders on the pitch and quality in vital positions. I also believe that for too long they believed the myth they were too good to go down.
Their failure to play for Penney - whatever they thought of his manner or his tactics - was simply unforgivable.
One thing is for sure. You cannot go into League 2 with players unprepared to compete for every ball, put their body in where it hurts and hunker down for a scrap.
You also need players - like the Lamberts of this world - who know where the net is and hit it regularly.
I don't know where we will be this time next year.
Important decisions must be made.
But I'll keep supporting the Gas, knowing that however often we get knocked down it is worth it, if only for those times when we surprise even ourselves by punching above our weight.
And if there is one thing we Gasheads have it is resilience and loyalty.
So to all those fans from across the other side of the City who think that our new lowly status will send us in droves to Ashton Gate to watch Championship football - think again.
Because it may not be this year, or next year, or even a few years from now ... but some day down the line I'm sure the Gas will rise again.
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