Ipswich 2-0 Millwall ~ Match Report

Rating: 2 votes, 4.50 average.
A short trip along the A12 is innocuous enough in itself until you add the fact that the end product is a visit to the six fingered, web toed people of Ipswich.

I know we have our fair share of wrong ‘un’s following us but Ipswich seem to have a total monopoly on the banjo playing, “squeal like a pig”, one chromosome missing local that just beggars belief.

Me and MrsB was joined by Del and Lin in the Bonemobile and we put all thoughts of going to this weird place so close to Halloween out of our heads and instead concentrated on finding somewhere decent to have a bit of breakfast before we ventured to close to fried racoon country.

We arrived in good time and parked up in a pay and display car park and did a quick check around for any sort of “Wicker Man” constructions before we made our way to the ground.
Look, let’s be honest here, the good people of Ipswich are not dangerous, not frightening, not in away confrontational, in fact they are more like zombies. I don’t mean like the sort of zombie you see in a George Romero film, I am talking about the poor soulless zombies that shuffle through each day with no idea what they are doing or what is really going on, a vagueness that is almost culpable, they need a good shake up and a lift into the 20th century (going straight to the 21st would, quite naturally, fry their brains).

They also have faces like fist magnets. They are to be pitied, not mocked.

So, in we went and after the usual nonsense with stewards trying to point people to their ‘correct’ seats we settled down for the game ahead.

Mr Jackett had picked his eleven and they were as follows:

Forde, Barron, Shittu, Robbo, Dunne, Abdou, Henry, Trotter, Schofield, Robinson T and Morison.

Naturally we had all been primed by the fact that the referee was Kevin Friend (a name so spectacularly wrong it is risible), his imperious attitude towards us is stuff of legend.

The man has no shame. His ignominy is known by most if not all Millwall fans and if you, dear reader, did not know him before this game then I am sure that his name will be imprinted on your souls from now until the end of time.

There are many adjectives you could use when referring to this referee. They would, in all probability be correct. I myself tend to use two words collectively to describe him....complete arsehole... I think it suffices.

He did not disappoint.

From his first whistle to his last it seemed that his sole purpose was to antagonise Millwall football club and anything pertaining to it.

I am sure the players were too focused to notice the peculiar decisions but watching from the side lines it was painfully obvious.

Some of you who have taken time in the past to read my ramblings will know that I try not to heap blame on our failings by blaming the referee but I make no apologies with this complete arsehole.

But I can’t blame him for the opening goal which came after about five minutes of Millwall domination and ended with us 1-0 down. A harmless ball down our right flank was not dealt with by Shittu and Barron and when the ball was crossed into the box it looked like a simple clearance from Robbo would deal with the danger but the usually reliable captain completely fluffed it and the ball fell to Scotland who had no trouble scoring from about ten yards out and dead centre of the goal. 1-0.

The home fans burst into some polite clapping...

We responded well. We kept the ball, playing it neat and tidy and we created chances. Alan Dunne whipped in a fine cross that deserved better but the Ipswich defence managed to clear and then Morison went on a mazy run that was thwarted at the last.

Henry then chipped in with a shot that ‘keeper Fulup did well to save and then Morison again had a good effort that just rose over the bar.

We were all over them like a rash but the complete arsehole was blowing up at every opportunity to stifle our progress.

Henry again worked his way down the right and put in a telling cross which was deflected for a corner but could easily have hit the back of the net as defender Delaney had no idea where the ball went.

Scott Barron attacked down the left flank and he played a lovely ball into the path of Robinson T but he was tackled before he could pull the trigger and the Barron again was the provider, his cross was met this time by Morison but the ‘keeper saved well.

It was all one way traffic but the equaliser would not come.

We then had the most blatant “hand ball, penalty!” decision never given in the history of association football. The ball was making its way across the Ipswich box and Leadbitter, the Ipswich defender, did a perfect impression of Meadowlark Lemon (look him up if you don’t know who he is!) and with the complete arsehole only yards away, a penalty was the only decision.

Except play was sanctimoniously waved on as the Lions players roared their disapproval. Ipswich almost stopped playing, such was the certainty of the claim but the complete arsehole was having none of it.

Why we were surprised by this decision is perhaps a bit naive.

Schofield was up next, pressing forward, he forced yet another corner from the overworked Ipswich defence.

On the rare occasion that Ipswich ventured forward we dealt with them comfortably but we did have one scare when the ball hit the back of an Ipswich players head and deflected goal wards but James Henry was there to clear it off the line.

That was merely a blip for us and we continued our assault on their goal. We finished the half in total command, Robinson T heading over from a Jimmy Abdou cross but the equaliser just would not materialise.

The 1200 odd Millwall fans were mainly appreciative of the effort the lads had put in but the overwhelming feeling was that we would need to score two goals just to get a draw with Friend in charge.

Mr Jackett did not make any changes for the second half but strangely waited until about 10 minutes in whereby he exchanged Abdou and Robinson T for Carter and Marquis.

It was like a red rag to a bull for the complete arsehole. How dare Millwall look to try and get something out of the game? So what did he do? Within sixty seconds of the substitution he awarded the home side a penalty after Priskin fell over his own feet after going past Shittu.

Forde got a hand to the ball from the spot kick but it hit the post and went in and to be honest, if it hadn’t then Friend would’ve ordered a re take.

So 2-0 down and a mountain to climb and it was never going to happen. The spirit was slowly eking out of the Lions as they realised that they were never really in it after all, such was the influence of Friend.

We did try though and it would be unfair to say we threw in the towel because it wasn’t like that. Henry got put in by Trotter but his shot was way off target.

Marquis impressed, he looks a decent prospect, busying himself up front and he was unlucky not to pull one back as his effort was cleared off the line and the Henry flashed a shot/cross right across the face of their goal.

The latter stages of the game saw an acceptance by the tireless Lions and Ipswich had finally cottoned on to the fact that the ref was never going to give us anything at all.
Dunne took the only yellow card of the game for a tame foul and it was brandished by the complete arsehole with all the pomposity of a panjandrum.

We were saved the ignominy of an undeserved three nil defeat when Forde made a finger tip save onto the bar from a header (which went unnoticed by the lino so a goal kick was given) and then in the dying embers of the game it looked like the 3 – 0 result would be a foregone conclusion.

Wickham was clean through and his shot was parried by Forde but the follow up beat him all ends up but the ball hit the post and even then it rebounded into the path of the unfortunately named Livermore who, like the erstwhile Millwall’s namesake, completely bollocksed up the chance by firing over an empty net with Forde stranded in no man’s land.

So it ended 2-0 a totally undeserved defeat from a team that set out to spoil and contain and with the help of a complete arsehole it was always going to be their day.

Probably the most overwhelming memory of this trip will be of the home fans and their total lack of atmosphere. The attendance was over 19,000 and you’d never have known there was a game going on if it hadn’t been for us lot.

Even in the streets after the game their fans were as silent as the grave and if you were just passing you’d have thought we had won the bloody game.

So, with no points on the board and a daunting trip up to Doncaster next Saturday, we need some consolidation to take place. We have dropped down to 14th place and although I personally am still looking upwards we have to be careful of what is happening over our shoulder at the bottom end.

See you all there?
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