All Bluebirds Column #9: We Got Game
Power. A complicated business and in football- no exception. The power of resources and investment to purchase the best players. The power of the fan base and size of following to attract coverage. Tradition and history, though they can weigh heavy, are also powerful. Power from those to shape the administration of the game and the behaviour within. Power of preparation and planning, to add strength and conditioning. Physical strength to overcome an opponent. Power.
Off the back of five wins in a row, the powerful Stockport juggernaut rolled into town. A side and a club on the up after long years of being in the doldrums. Backed by decent money and big crowds, they were an early promotion favourite. They owed us one.
Dave Challinor and his sides are hard to love but impossible to dismiss. If they are anything, they are powerful. Tough, hard running and assembled with that in mind. This vintage were no exception. A strong shape, with Ryan Croasdale at the base of an expensively assembled group running the show, they dominated possession first half in particular.
However, we stuck at it and sharp little flashes of interplay showed what we might be capable of, if we could find an answer to the playground bully swagger of Challyball. All backed by incessant drumming from the entitled corner who were in decent voice too when they stopped whining on social media about the ground.
Our midfield kept chipping away; but even with the five men looked a bit overloaded. A cross fizzed across our box and Gotts wriggled free then wasted a decent attacking opportunity. Meanwhile, a wrestling match ensued-our centre halves given a full workout with a combination of pulls and pushes as Stockport tried to force their way through.
The Royal Rumble continued until half time but we were still in the game. More than that, as Pete Wild alluded to in his post-match interview; the players were defining what needed to happen.
Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu said this: “knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power.” I am not suggesting that Josh Kay led a robust philosophical analysis of the interplay of power and resistance in contemporary League Two football. However, they did work it out for themselves. That’s the sign of a decent dressing room and manager. That’s what happened on Saturday.
The grabbing got more frantic- as George Ray was dragged, downwards, by the neck, in the box. We kept trying to play round them with more invention, Ged Garner to the fore along with a tireless, disciplined Josh Kay. Robbie Gotts pushed higher and Harrison Neal and Tom White both screened the defence but stood up to Stockport, so much that Croasdale departed the scene early.
Behind this, our Centre Backs weren’t giving any ground, with Canavan the pick of three great performances. We had already had a Garner shot dragged wide when the moment came. Challenge won- then a Garner first touch, a moment of sublime skill. On we went, as at Bradford Josh Kay charged into space and a clever ball put him through. Thank you very much Dave and goodnight. The joyful black clad melee in the Holker End mirrored around the ground as all ages and stages shared the moment. We were ahead.
After that, we were mostly comfortable although given the last few months we have been susceptible to late disaster it was nervy. We took off our fast schemers and put on our other fast schemers. They took off two good quality mobile lumps and replaced them with the same. It made not a jot of difference to the match.
As the clock ticked on, the crowd noise increased. The final whistle approached at a snail’s pace, so I was grateful for those in the Main Stand whose burning need to get to their car early spared me the torture of being able to see half of the last 5-10 minutes. Apparently, everyone who stood in front of the disabled section performed the same vital function. Thanks for the thought.
Five minutes came and went and with a blast from the whistle. Holker Street exploded in delight. Pete Wild, a man who wears not only the heart: but the full gamut of internal organs on his sleeve celebrated in the manner that we love, and so gloriously annoys other clubs’ fans. More power to him. Half way through the second half, he simply bellowed ‘YOU CAN DO THIS!’ from the dugout.
Self-belief, encouragement and harnessing passion and process. As I reflected on the win over a drink, the surreal swirling notes of the Cross Bar saxophonist (did that really happen? why?) induced an almost trance like state of self-indulgent satisfaction. As one does in these moments of inner karmic flow, the mind plays tricks. Perhaps the lads had Public Enemy on during the half time cuppa. It certainly looked that way. Because we found a way to take care of Stockport.
What we need is awareness, we can’t get careless
You say what is this?
My beloved let’s get down to business
Mental self-defensive fitness
Don’t rush the show
You gotta go for what you know
Make everybody see, in order to fight the powers that be
Lemme hear you say
FIGHT THE POWER!