Watford 2-1 Millwall Very Late Match Report

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A midweek trip to Watford was just what we need after the defeat at Derby, a short trip up the M1 to pay a visit to Elton Jon’s misfits is always evocative thanks to the now set in stone Neil Harris “come back” goal but as time surely moves onwards it would seem that for poor old Watford it is going backwards.

Dilapidated is such a beautiful word to write (and say) but of course its meaning is the absolute antonym.

Vicarage Road is in a pretty sorry state. Three sides are passable; the fourth is just an embarrassing mish mash of run down terracing with a bit of seating crammed into one end with a rickety old scaffold erected for the cameras to be precariously perched on to record the games.

They have been building that structure between the home end and the main stand for an eternity and rumours abound that the project has been put on hold until the money has been raised to finish it off which only adds to the decrepit nature of the place.

Elton John must be turning in his boudoir. The little fat poof could no doubt find an odd million or two stuffed down the back of his chaise longue to finance the building of a new stand to at least make the four sides complete?

I guess he is content to have “Elton’s Box” full of pricks week in, week out instead…

Watford residents are themselves a strange breed and even their celebrities (of which there are many) are a mixture of the ridiculous to the even more ridiculous, for example, Geri Haliwell to Mo Mowlem or Gareth Southgate to my particular favourite, Cyril Fletcher. Yes, the older ones among you will remember Cyril, he had a regular spot on “That’s Life” spouting forth his odd odes as his fucking eyeballs played a continuous game of tug o war with each other, actually epitomising, now I think of it, your average Watford fan.

I’m waffling, I know, just prevaricating to avoid scribbling down my thoughts on what I can only describe as our worst performance of the season so far. That is not to say I expect us to have any worse games in the future, but I am happy to edge my bets on this one, just in case.

There were about 800 hardy souls in the away section, all in good voice, as the Lions came out and we settled down to see that Mr Jackett had again gone for the irksome 4-5-1 formation with the line up as follows which included new loan signing Howard;

Forde, Dunne, Ward, Robbo, Craig, Henry, Howard, Trotter, Abdou, Feeney and N’Guessen as the front man.

Referee Graham got things going and we set our stall out early, pumping the long ball forward to the isolated N’Guessen completely by passing the new “play maker” Howard. It was very obscure.

Watford were a complete shambles and we were easily matching them. Their big lummox in defence was winning most balls so we starting hoofing out to the flanks, which resulted 9 times out of 10 with a throw in to Watford.

What little football we played came from Feeney who was doing his best to get the lads going but it was a forlorn effort as we laboured along with no real purposeful play at all.

There were a few attacking moves for the home side as twice the ball was fed out wide catching out Dunne but on both occasions the final ball from the right flank was thankfully disappointing.

On the 20-minute mark Sordell was allowed by our underworked midfield to turn and run at the almost static combo of Ward and Robbo but directed his shot miles wide of David Forde's right-hand post.

The highlight of the night happened when referee Graham took one in the chops and went down quicker than a tuppney whore on pay day and he took an absolute age to get back up as the Millwall fans quickly put pen to paper to come up with the wonderful ditty “he fell on his arse, he fell on his arse, the ref’s a wanker, he fell on his arse” which had the silly bastard grinning like a Cheshire cat.

We almost had to use the speed dial for the pope on the half hour mark as N’Guessen had the ball in the back of the net after he evaded the Hornets packed defence from a defence-splitting Henry free kick into the box. But all thoughts of the miracle quickly evaporated as the poxy lino had his flag waving for off side, so the pontiff was not required after all.


It ended goalless at the break and although there had been tackles flying in from both sides, the game didn’t really produce any real scoring opportunities as both teams seemed intent on just booting lumps out of each other.

No changes from Mr Jackett for the second half, which raised numerous eyebrows amongst the travelling faithful and it soon lapsed into a tedious affair again.

One of their players blasted over from a good position two minutes after the re-start, despite having a man crying out for the ball on the other side of the area completely unmarked by our errant right back.

We then had another wonderful Forde moment when he was caught out of his box, after a burst downfield from Watford.

With Forde in no man’s land out of the box, the ball was fed in and the ball fell to a completely useless Watford player who made a ludicrous attempt to steer the ball towards the goal, which, I am happy to say, our defence dealt with to save the Irish ‘keeper’s blushes.

The change came on the traditional hour mark and Abdou went off for Marquis and the revised 4-4-2 formation looked much better.

Then, it finally happened. Around the seventy minute mark the impressive Feeney wriggled and jiggled his way down the left and his cross deflected off Doyley and looped over Gilmartin, the Watford ‘keeper and went in off the post right in front of us.

It took a second to register before the Lions fans went loopy. 0-1! We had scored a bloody goal at last

The Hornets came straight back at us from the re start and Forde saved from Hogg when it really should have been the equaliser.

The home fans were on their feet appealing for a penalty after 75 minutes when Garner went down theatrically under Forde's challenge, it was a clear cut case of cheating but the ref waved play on.

The inevitable equaliser came on 78 minutes when Dickinson scuffed a shot through a packed defence after the Lions half-cleared a corner kick. 1-1 bollocks.

The clock watching was going on in earnest now and of course, you all know what is coming. With only five minutes left on the clock the Hornets grabbed a second goal. Ward headed the ball straight to Forsyth who couldn’t believe his luck as he smacked the ball past the stricken Forde.

2-1. A familiar story this season, chucking away a lead but the score line was not the just the issue with this game. The performance was dire. Against a team that were clearly worse than us we just could not muster enough energy or passion to do the business.

It was immensely frustrating, wearisome and exasperating to watch us capitulate in such a meek fashion.

We are clearly not firing on all cylinders at the moment, there is definitely trouble in paradise and we need to turn this around pretty rapidly because historically we know that once you are in the drop zone the whole kingdom of the heavens with any God you care to name will lift up their oh so celestial robes and piss all over your plans for the rest of the season.

So next up we face Burnley at the Den to see if we can stop the rot and start the slow climb to safety.

See you all there?

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