All Bluebirds Column #6: Roman Holiday

We were promised a reaction…would we get it? I questioned both that and my sanity as the car drew up to take us to Colchester. Would this be it? A restoration of pride; redemption with the fans; re-emergence of the ‘best version of ourselves’? At least we had an extra hour in bed that the Bluebirds Bus would have claimed.

One of many life-enhancing things about travelling away are the range of conversations you have on the way. Subjects covered included; A-League football, William Blake, Sunday Tea, 90s dance classics, pensioners, Tenerife, Hitler and Netflix, Cologne, West Cumbria, Pizza, the perfidy of Tim Horton and designer outlets , generic football songs.

Then the pub. This one settling comfortably in a ‘modern’ Essex village. Subjects covered included; deafness, Murder She Wrote, Kentish superiority, cucumber, the ‘Townhouse Derby’, genetic quirks, Give em Beans, The Bob Lord Trophy final and the faultlessness of Steve Farrelly.  

The Romans who rebuilt Colchester after Boudicca’s attack wouldn’t have bothered if they’d seen the ‘Jobserve Community Stadium’. For those unfortunate enough to have been to Northampton, remove the outlets and replace it with a building site, in which squats a breeze blocked soulless hell. For anyone who ever criticises our own ground, this version of watching football would sap your very soul. Long live Holker St in all its ramshackle glory.

An unexpected, lovely gesture from an anonymous player putting £200 behind ‘the bar’ in the away end cheered matters up considerably as anyone not driving tried manfully to live up to it pre-match. I know this story is true, because I was that soldier. The team sheet yielded promised changes. Feeley and Garner in, fresh legs, fresh ideas?

As our lubricated chants echoed around the concrete cavern, we certainly looked better. Rory Feeley was big and strong, looked to get forward and seemed to inspire confidence. Jed Garner looks like an upgrade. A little bigger, still quick, and keen to get into clever pockets of space. Not too much in the first half, but we were the better side, more positive than we have been for a while.

Second half we continued in the positive vein, Rory Feely finding the right spot with a lovely ball and the lively Ben Whitfield headed past a slightly static defence. Celebrations abounded. Colchester, second in the form table, kept banging on the door. Paul Farman and the back line were looking strong enough to hold on to anything we had, with a series of blocks and challenges.

Then injustice. Strapping John Akinde, having successfully hurdled Paul Farman’s legitimate attempt to save the ball, seemed to find turbulence near to Stansted and plummeted earthwards. Penalty it was not- yet given. Then justice. Paul Farman saved well to his right and it seemed like the footballing gods were with us.

Except, of course, not completely. These days, multi-subs coupled with some overly obvious ‘game management’ resulted in a long period of extra time- where, late on, after a bit of pinball, Colchester equalised. The locals cavorted unconvincingly among the plastic and a draw it was. But, much better and if not a complete reversal, certainly much improved and the players and staff left to warm and deserved applause.

We left for the car park queue among the half built monuments to corporate mammon. Goodness knows what it would be like if more poor locals actually went. Fans who think we are poorly organised with a poor ground sometimes should count their blessings. Even when, as in the child-friendly, cheery atmosphere of Everton U21s in the Lancashire Cup today, it comes at a fevered pitch so high that anyone over 12’s ears will be ringing till Newport come calling.