I was able to attend today's home match against Welling United for one reason only - I took both children. Oh sure, it is a bonding experience that some day I will look back on with a tear in my eye, et cetera, but really it was a chance for my wife to have some time on her own for the afternoon. Three weeks into the summer holidays and Mrs. Nedved needed a break. I was happy to oblige if it meant getting to see the City boys in action for the third match in a row.
My children have a sort of love/hate relationship with Twerton Park. Until the mid-point of last season I found it difficult to get them to come along. Then at the St. Albans match in January I got them to come along by promising to stuff them full of sweets and crisps from the tea bar. It worked, and they generally want to come now when asked. Unfortunately, they nearly spoil it each time by saying 'Mommy, mommy, we're going to Bath City and Daddy says we can have as many sweets as we like!' So, after yet another promise not to buy them any junk food (which I knew I would break but would try hard not to break very much), we donned all of our Bath City merchandise, loaded up the Nedvedmobile with cheese and pickle sandwiches for the ride home, and set off for sunny Twerton.
We made it with only minutes to spare. There was just enough time to get each of the boys a doughnut (okay, okay, but really that's all they are going to get) and settle down in the front of the popular side terrace.
My five year old went to his first match ever last year when we attended the home opener against Welling. City lost 0-4 in the most depressing display I have ever seen from a City side. The only source of levity was the way my son kept referring to Welling in their all-red kit as Liverpool (he insisted that City had played Liverpool up until a few weeks ago). After two spirited performances so far in league play this season, I know I was not the only supporter hoping for a little revenge from our guests today.
City did play positively, but not as attractively as they have in the previous two matches. Welling had come for a scrap, and although it never got dirty, and the City players remained calm, long passes in hope rather than with purpose became the order of the day. Overall, the balance of play was in City's favour. It looked like the scoring would be too when Mike Perrott, making his first start, made a neat pass to give Darren Edwards a one-on-one with the Welling keeper, Charlie Mitten. Four days previously he had finished such a chance neatly, but in this instance he appeared to be unsure of when to shoot and in the end sliced the ball wide to the left.
This was very frustrating, but fortunately a few minutes later a neat free kick from Adam Connolley was even more neatly headed into the back of the net by Gethin Jones. I jumped up and down and shouted and hugged both children. They needed me to explain what had happened because they had just previously been examining an interesting pebble they had found on the terrace. They were genuinely pleased, though, because for reasons I have not fully grasped yet they both say that Gethin Jones is their favourite player. I think my seven year old admires the way Gethin gels his hair. The fact that he is a very useful fullback who can on occasion penetrate opposition defences with his pace is also good.
My five year old began to complain of hunger, and I, being a responsible father, refused to buy him any more junk food. Not until half time at least. He began asking after every whistle if it was half time yet, so we had to rehearse what the half time whistle would sound like. 'Beep, Beep, Beeeeeeeep.' Finally it went, and we got in the back of a very long queue at the tea bar. My seven year old, desperate to show his maturity, said, 'Daddy, I think I might actually be having a good time, and I'm not actually begging for anything.' Progress!
Despite the lack of begging he was grateful for a packet of 'Ready Salted.' His younger brother settled on a lolly. I was a bit nervous going into the second half: Welling seemed more likely to score than the previous two oppositions (other than those fifteen minutes of horror), and neither boy has shown the ability to really pay attention to a match beyond the hour mark. I prepared for a session of scrapping both on and off the pitch. Welling did come back from the interval looking stronger, and true to form the boys began to squabble about who got to lean on a particular twelve inches of railing that was exactly the same as the other 300 feet of railing along that side of the pitch. Although I was able to fight a rearguard action consisting of scolding and separating, eventually I gave in and we left the popular side and headed for the nearly empty family stand on the other side of the pitch.
From the other side of the ground I was still able to get a good view of proceedings. The second half descended into more midfield ping-pong. City were able to mount the occasional co-ordinated attack, but controlling the ball into a meaningful position and converting these opportunities eluded them. I was also able to see the crowd on the popular side terrace well. While I had been part of it the terrace had felt fairly full. I could now see how sparsely it was populated. The announced crowd of 479 was a disappointment. Even though it was not the most attractive of games, the brave City boys deserved better.
With fifteen minutes to go disaster struck. Will Putty had made some excellent saves in the match thus far. Unlike in the Maidenhead match, Welling gave him several testing shots to handle. One looked so sharply hit I thought it might carry him with it into the net. His kicking had, again, been excellent. All this was all undone briefly, though, when a misjudged back pass caught him out of position and gifted a goal to Jake Hobbs of Welling. There has been some debate on the forum about how much of this was Putty's fault, but he did flounder helplessly as he tried to control the situation. I tried not to get angry, but I felt cheated and began privately to wonder if the season was going to be undone by such defensive lapses.
I did this, though, partly out of habits learned from matches last season. The collapse against Bishop's Stortford from 2-0 to 2-3 still haunts me. I was not giving City credit for the fact that although the last year's team is largely in tact, this year's squad has a new attitude and a new mental strength.
After two substitutions, new signing Kaid Mohamed penetrated down the right side to make a shot that was accurate, venomous, well placed, and unfortunately within reach of the reliable Charlie Mitten. It was an impressive piece of work nonetheless, and I know I won't be the only supporter hoping to see Mohamed start up front soon. Moments later City really showed its mettle. Midfield enforcer Lewis Hogg neatly set up a free kick for defender Chris Holland to reach the net with a deflecting header. After a minute of extra time (which lasted at least three minutes) City players and supporters rejoiced. Three valuable points had been banked.
I let out a cheer of relief. My seven year old, always the philosopher, asked, 'Why do you cheer louder when Bath City score than when they win?' A good question.
This was not City's best performance, but it is important that they have shown that they can without their best performance. I am convinced this is a better side than the one that placed eighth last year. It has more talent, more depth, and a stronger desire to win.
We were soon in the car and the boys were soon strapped in and tucking in to their sandwiches. I almost throttled them at a couple points this afternoon, but I know I will look back these experiences in years to come and smile. Well, as long as City keep winning, anyway.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
Three Points and Two Children
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Posted by Nedved at 23:40
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Bath City,
Welling United
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