Tag Archives: Aston Villa

From Wigan to Wembley – a view from the psychiatrist’s couch

1 Mar

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By Martin Keighley

My life and lifestyle has always been strongly linked with the ups and downs of Bradford City.

City fans understand and celebrate success more than most because, on the whole, they have tasted large slices of disappointment more often than most. It’s not like supporting Manchester United or Liverpool. For a start you can afford to go to most games so the suffering and rare moments of elation are truly hands-on.

On 30 October, 2012 – the evening Wigan were defeated on penalties – my relationship with Bradford City would change and I was to become unbearable for 117 days. During this time I became a Twitter addict about all things #bcafc, I checked the City website and the message boards four times a day and my only conversation topic was Bradford City. As the days wore on I gradually became an emotional wreck, an addict desperate for another score.

On that cold Tuesday night in Wigan I got home at 1am, shattered, exhausted and utterly euphoric. I felt fantastic. The dose of drama that was the extra time and penalties at Wigan left me wanting more. I was physically ill with sore hands and no voice, but it was the psychological after-effects that were to become the biggest worry. My wife was extremely tolerant and my non-football friends would often nod with that “oh he’s off talking Bradford City again” sort of look. But I was totally oblivious.

I was well and truly hooked and like any junkie I was desperate for another big fix. But the next one was big, really big. Watching the Arsenal team bus arrive a Valley Parade to the chants of “you’re only here for the Bradford” to watching the full TV coverage when I got home lasted almost eleven hours. I was now insufferable, and it was going to get worse, much worse.

After the Villa home game I would unconsciously watch the TV coverage over and over again in some kind of ritual preparation for the second leg. Meanwhile the league form resembled the normality of the last ten years, providing a little hope interspersed with large doses of averageness. My social life fell apart, my skin became pale and the only people who understood were my fellow junkies.

Villa away was my first overdose. This time my Bradford City hit lasted around fifteen straight hours, but during the aftermath I was impossible.  I’d never sung “que sera sera” before, and now I couldn’t get the tune out of my head. I was in danger of total social withdrawal.

For the next thirty three days I was restless, almost sleepless, and my health continued to deteriorate. I started to have weird dreams and my hallucinations became worse. All sense of normality and logic seemed to dissolve away as I imagined Gary Jones lifting the cup. I really needed help but just didn’t know it.

Was Wembley to be the answer? A massive shot of hope, expectation and above all, pride, was to be quickly followed by the cold turkey of football realism. There was of course one last finale as the last twenty five minutes of singing and flag waving once again ripped my emotions to shreds. I was finally beaten. It was all over.

I knew I was clean the next morning as I awoke from my first proper sleep in weeks, ate sensibly, and found I could make non-football conversation without effort. I looked forward to the normality of a midweek evening Division Two match. My 117 days of agony was over.

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Cup Final: Doing everything we can

21 Feb

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By Rob Craven

Come 4:00pm on Sunday the City of Bradford will come together; the public, the fans, the manager and coaches, the directors, medical staff and players. We will all be gunning for the same result, giving everything to the cause as one, whether it be from the dug outs, from the stands, from our living rooms or pubs or within the rectangular whitewashed box.

But prior to us entering the national stadium, as fans, what can we do?

We cannot train for a match like the players can, or contribute to the tactics or pre match team talk. We cannot coach the players to have the same love and passion that we have for our club, we have to trust that they can use their playing experience and expertise added to their fitness and desire to win to get us the right result.

We fans are left on the sidelines looking in for any new scraps of information from websites and newspapers, building up a mass of emotion and endless thoughts. These thoughts lead us to the dreams of possible highs and nightmares of our worst fears, from which the unexplainable world of superstition is born.

Superstition in football is a funny thing. Talk to any fan closely connected with the club and they will be able to name you an item or action that has bizarrely and without any pre thought become the reason why Bradford City are entering their first cup final in over 100 years.

This might not be a physical item or action but a routine or thought process all in the aid of dealing with the emotion of a football match. As we aren’t able to put on our boots and kits and run out onto the pitch to make the result happen, we have to do the next best thing.

We make sure that we continue to do, whatever it was that we did before, in order not to disturb the current course of fate. On the morning of Sunday 24there will be a lot of people doing a lot of funny things both in the city of Bradford and all over the world as fans tune in to do their bit to help the Bantams get the right result.

I thought it was just me. I’m not going to disclose my superstition prior to the game on Sunday, for fear that if I do, then it will not work again as it did for the previous cup ties.  But whilst I was stood outside The Shakespeare pub in Birmingham city centre prior to the 2nd leg of the semi-final, I witnessed one homeless person feel the rewards of a set of Bradford City fans superstitious minds, that made me realise, that we are all in this together, and deeper than I ever thought.

The group of fans were outside the pub discussing the impending game when a homeless person came over asking for change. I always feel slightly awkward in these situations, but these fellas lapped up the attention of the homeless man and adorned him with a handsome reward for his inquest.

As the homeless man trundled off into the snowy night a little heavier in the pocket, the City fans turned to me and told me that for all of the previous cup games they had attended, they had by chance happened upon homeless people, and donated to their various causes, and as a result of this good will, City had gone on to win the game.

This warmed my heart and at the same time filled me with amusement. They felt the exact same responsibility that I did for City being where they are, but also held the same fear that comes with responsibility that if you do not do your bit however bizarre or crazy, then you will let the side down.

As a youngster I had an old Bradford City mug that I used to drink out of every Saturday morning before attending a match. This mug was the reason why we were so successful in the 1996 and if you ever wondered how we managed to win that Wembley final in 1996, yes, it was because of my lucky mug.

Unable to deal with the impending guilt should Bradford not be triumphant this time round, two of my friends Andy and Steve will wear the exact same clothes to Wembley that they wore to the villa away game and the home game before that. The fact that they had mistakenly worn the exact same outfit as each other in the first leg makes this story all the more amusing. If you want to see Andy and Steve on Sunday, look out for two lads wearing matching green jumpers with dark blue jeans.

Similarly having watched the first leg of the semi final in the front room of Tom’s east London home, Jim and Tom were unable, out of fear, to do anything other than exactly the same routine that they had when they then watched the 2nd leg from Villa Park. Even sitting in the same seats on the same part of the couch they for the second time watched in disbelief as the Bantams made history. And as much as it was down to the players on the pitch, Jim and Tom had contributed to it too – at least in their own hearts and minds.

Now I’m not a religious person or particularly superstitious in any other walk of life, but talk to me about Bradford City at Wembley and I begin praying to Buddha, Brahman, Rama, Krishna, Vishnu, Maheswara, Shiva, Allah and Jesus Christ our lord, Amen! I don’t actually think that any of these guys will be any more helpful to our cause than Pete from Idle wearing his shirt backwards and his socks inside out. But it certainly helps me to cope with all of this nervous energy.

That is what this is all about isn’t it? Football? This is the exact reason why football is just so good. It consumes our lives and gives us emotion where we wouldn’t normally have any. It fulfils our souls and lets us escape temporarily into a world outside of our own. It makes us do daft stuff.

This cup run has been no exception. Superstitions will be rife on Sunday morning as we struggle to cope with the emotion and to contemplate our miraculous journey to the league cup final. We are in dream world.

So for one last time, before fate takes control, drink from your lucky mug, don your oldest boxer shorts, wear your socks inside out and take that special route to work all week because this is as ginormous as it feels. We are Bradford City and we are going to Wembley – superstitious or not, that is bizarre!

Cup Final: Width of a Post build-up

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Cup Final: City aim to emulate legend Jamie Lawrence

18 Feb

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By Jason McKeown

Befitting his unusual playing career, Bradford City legend Jamie Lawrence is a member of an elite group of footballers who have lifted the League Cup – despite the right winger never having played at Wembley.

Back in 1997, Jamie was an extra time substitute for Leicester City in their League Cup Final replay victory over Middlesbrough – a match played at Hillsborough stadium. Fellow Bantam alumni Steve Claridge netted the only goal, which meant Jamie and his team mates picked up winners’ medals and a place in Europe. Now the 42-year-old – who will be at Wembley on Sunday – is backing the current Bradford City squad to repeat Leicester’s triumph.

“How many Premiership teams have we knocked out along the way?” Jamie pointed out when Width of a Post asked him to assess City’s chances at Wembley. “Anything is possible, and we’ve got to remember that it’s 11 against 11. We’ve got to have a right go at them and see what happens.”

Despite the glory of his own League Cup triumph 16 years ago, Lawrence has mixed memories when looking back. Martin O’Neill had dropped him from his matchday squad for the initial match at Wembley; a game in which Leicester forced a replay thanks to a 90th minute equaliser from Emile Heskey. “I had played in every single game leading up to the final,” revealed Jamie. “So it was one of the worst moments of my career when Martin dropped me for that game.

“But what I’ve always done in my career, when I have been dropped, is work even harder to come back. In-between Wembley and the replay at Hillsborough, we had a game against Arsenal where the gaffer played all the fringe players. So I got to start and I did really well. And then we went to Hillsborough and he named me in the 14.

“I remember coming on for 20 minutes, and Steve Claridge scored a world class goal to win us the cup. Coming back home Heskey had drunk a bottle of champagne by himself, and his dad had to come onto the team bus and take him home, because he was puking up all over the place!”

It’s almost a decade since Jamie departed Valley Parade after an eventful six seasons that saw City rise into the Premier League and then begin their bumpy descent – and remarkably he is still playing, turning out for Isthmian League Division One South outfit Tooting & Mitcham United. Jamie has also enjoyed a first-hand view of Bradford City’s memorable cup run, going all the way back to the first round fixture at Notts County, back in August.

“I had attended the club’s pre-season tour of Ireland,” explained Jamie. “I know the gaffer (Phil Parkinson), so I had approached him with two players for him to look at, which he agreed to take on trial in Ireland. I already knew Kyel (Reid) and Zav (Hines), and I also got to meet a few of the other players while I was out there.

“During the tour I said to the players that, because I had a weekend off from playing football myself, I would come up for the Notts County game. I really enjoyed that match, and I remember James Hanson scored a worldly to win us the game.”

Jamie’s presence in the City away end that day did not go unnoticed, with City fans chanting his name during the match and mobbing him for autographs at the end. On the reception he received, Jamie admitted, “The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It’s nice to still be appreciated, and that afternoon was quite emotional to tell you the truth.”

Jamie also attended the Arsenal quarter final and both legs of the Aston Villa semi finals. He believes that the strong vocal backing the players received from supporters made a huge difference. “The atmosphere was amazing, it took me right back to the days when we were playing in the Premier League or doing really well in the Championship,” he stated. “Watching the games, you get really involved in the atmosphere, and as a player it can only spur you on, because the fans act as the 12th man.

“The second leg at Villa Park was one of the best nights of sport I have ever experienced. I can only imagine what it must have been like as a player, and how the fans helped them to get through those 90 minutes. The fans were tremendous that night.”

Having seen the players up close in Ireland and from the stands on the road to Wembley, Jamie has been able to identify the qualities he believes have helped them to perform such cup miracles. “I see a lot of similarities with this team and the successful City teams I was part of,” explained Jamie. “They never know when they are dead. The spirit is great. They look like they are playing as a team and not as individuals. For me, when you get a collective team spirit like that, it can get you so much further than the individual talent available.

“The season that we went down from the Premier League, we had a lot of individuals. But I think that this season we can gatecrash the promotion party, and anything can happen as Wembley.”

The day before City march out to face Swansea, Jamie has his own game to complete as Tooting & Mitcham United welcome Worthing to the KNK stadium. A sizeable number of City supporters are planning to attend the match – something which Jamie is really excited by.

“I can’t wait to play in front of Bradford City fans again,” he revealed. “It’s been a long time. This Twitter thing has opened a lot of doors for me and I’ve got a relationship back with the fans. A lot them are saying they want to come and watch me on Saturday, and it’s a game against one of my old clubs too. So it will be really nice to have all the fans there and have a pint with them after.”

And then it’s on to Wembley with a mixture of friends accompanying Jamie that includes former Spurs, West Ham and Walsall goalkeeper Jimmy Walker (“I’ve turned him into a closet Bradford City fan!”) plus other City fans that he has become close to. Regardless of whether the club cause another upset, Jamie believes there is a lot to smile about.

“The players and management can be really, really proud of themselves. I’m also pleased for Mark Lawn and Julian Rhodes, because they have gone through some bad times at Bradford City. I firmly believe that the club is on the right path towards getting back to where they should be.”

Post your good luck message to Bradford City.

Cup Final: Width of a Post build-up

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Wembley song number two: The Spirit of Bradford City

7 Feb

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By Jason McKeown

Hot on the heels of the Corrigan Brothers recording a song about Bradford City’s appearance at Wembley, Bradford City supporter Simon Crabtree has written and recorded his own effort, named ‘The Spirit of Bradford City’. It’s already causing a stir amongst the Bradford City Twitter community, with almost 700 listens within three days of appearing on the ‘net.

Simon kindly told Width of a Post the story behind his song:

“I started writing it on the Wednesday evening after the Villa game. I sat down and watched the recording of the game, from the night before, and had a few tears in my eyes seeing the pictures of us all in the stands at the end. Then the interview with Phil Parkinson on the pitch where he comes out and says, ‘It’s dreamland…we said we had a chance to make history’, so that was a starting point. I grabbed a notebook and started writing stuff down.

“I needed a title, and the one thing that I think has epitomised this team is spirit. Going back to the earlier round game against Burton where I thought we’d battered them and we couldn’t work out how we were 2-0 down at half time. But they came back and showed the sort of spirit that made you proud to support them.

“I was separated from the other members of the ‘Food & Beverage Sub Committee’ (my usual co-watchers) at that Villa away game, high up behind the goal, surrounded by strangers, but everyone around me felt like my best mates that night – there was a mix of terror, ecstasy and ‘oh my god I can’t believe it’. I don’t think I’ve ever hugged so many strangers!

“I wanted to write something that made you feel that pride, I didn’t want to create a novelty song, something funny or gimmicky, I just wanted it to reflect how I’d felt the night before – proud.

“I stuck a rough version on the iPod and took it down to the Fighting Cock to run it by the rest of the ‘Committee’, and they voted it through, so I rushed home (after a few more drinks) and got it to a point where I dared to stick it on the web. Since then there’s been some heavy Twitter-marketing activity, a fair amount of nice feedback, very little nasty feedback (though I’m preparing myself for that) and over 700 downloads.

“I’m now wondering whether to pluck up the courage and take a CD down to the club!”

To listen to Simon’s excellent song and read the lyrics, please click on the following link.

https://sites.google.com/site/spiritofbradfordcity/

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The eyes of the world are upon us, but it is what we see with our own that matters

28 Jan

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By Jason McKeown

If I have one regret about Bradford City’s time in the Premier League, purely from the perspective of being a supporter, it was the lack of interest I took in the national media coverage at the time. I barely read any newspapers, paid little attention to what they said on 5Live and – although I watched Match of the Day most weeks – rarely recorded an episode for prosperity. Over the subsequent years of City rarely being mentioned outside of our local media outlets, and beyond a 20-second clip of the weekend’s goals on an ITV/BBC highlights programme, it felt like the media glare of the Premier League days had been a missed opportunity.

So the current media storm around the club is a wonderful feeling, stirring memories of how it felt being a large part of the nation’s consciousness at the turn of the millennium. Yet in other ways it feels less engaging than I imagined it would be. I don’t find myself trawling through every column inch that every newspaper is affording us, when over the last few years any tiny scrap of national media attention was considered something to savour. I feel a bit blasé about us appearing on Sky Sports News so often.

Don’t get me wrong, it is lovely still. I am proud as punch when I read the likes of Henry Winter, Oliver Kay and David Conn – personal heroes of mine – writing such positive things about our cup exploits. Martin Tyler is the king of commentators for me, and re-watching both legs of the Aston Villa semi final are enhanced by the way the Sky man superbly captures the emotion of the occasion. It’s also fantastic to see such wonderfully kind people like Gary Jones, Matt Duke, Carl McHugh and James Hanson being interviewed in-depth by newspapers and TV – they deserve it. But a lot of the other media coverage is just noise. Quantity making it harder to pick out the quality. This isn’t a moan at all, just a personal surprise that the novelty factor hasn’t lasted quite as long as I might have expected.

Part of this reason of reserved feelings is the sharing of something so personally important and precious to you with people who don’t hold that same love and care of attention. For all the very high quality articles that have been produced, it’s not hard to find others littered with factual errors and even spelling mistakes. Zavon Hines got the opening goal in the first leg against Villa, apparently. As supporters, we have such an in-depth level of knowledge about our specialist subject of Bradford City, that reading, hearing or viewing somebody else wilfully display their comparative ignorance can be irritating. As Alan Partridge once said, “Stop getting Bond wrong”.

Then there are the idiots, ones who try to take advantage of the situation to further their own standing. As we pulled up to Villa Park last Tuesday, Talksport presenter Adrian Durham was telling a national radio audience that a Bradford City win this evening would be a bad thing for English football. His reasoning? If we were to earn a spot in the Europa League, it would reflect badly on the nation when we inevitably bowed out of the competition straight away. Don’t bother trying to pick holes in Durham’s argument – such as why one of the greatest modern day football fairy tales football should be considered less important than who next season might represent England in a competition most people couldn’t give a toss about. Durham didn’t mean what he said; he was just trying to get a reaction.

In a flash I was taken back to our Premier League days, and a name that became synonymous with our battle against the odds during 1999/00: Rodney Marsh. A run-of-the-mill pundit on Sky (but great player, so I’m told), on the eve of that season Marsh predicted we would have no chance of staying up and went on to attack our efforts on a weekly basis. “If Bradford stay up I will shave my head” was his bold claim. “Are you watching Rodney Marsh?” was our defiant chant whenever we won.

But it wasn’t long after Marsh was forced into the ‘humiliation’ of having his head shaved at Valley Parade that you realised that, ultimately, he was never concerned with whether he was going to be proven right or wrong, or stupid. He was simply furthering his own punditry career by spouting controversial views, to gain attention. And it worked for him (for a time). He rode on the back of our success, and we had no choice but to put him on the map.

Durham’s efforts are similarly intended: look at me. He doesn’t think that City winning the League Cup would be bad for English football, deep down – what right-thinking football fan would? – he just wanted the attention and to stand out from the bulging media crowd. Ignore him.

Equally disappointing is the sudden volume of attacks Bradford City have experienced from other football supporters. Sure, 99% have been magnificent towards us – even followers of our near neighbours Huddersfield and Leeds – but a minority have used this moment to attack the club over the two spells of administration experienced ten and eight years ago respectively. One typical comment was the sarcastic, “Good for plucky little minnows Bradford and their 25,000 all-seater £40m stadium and recent administration to escape millions in tax. A true football fairy tale.”

Given the colossal amount of football clubs who have gone through administration since us – many of whom renegaded on debt obligations in a quite shameful manner, with barely a bump in their on-the-field fortunes – for us to attacked in this way feels genuinely hurtful. I mean administration was far from our finest hour and no one is expecting sympathy for what we went through, but a quick look at how the club has sunk down the divisions since the double-administration – still saddled with some of the issues – would surely demonstrate that we have hardly profited from it. Or do we deserve a life sentence of never being happy again?

I guess this placing of everything Bradford City under the microscope in the manner that has occurred is always going to throw up a few bum notes. And the arrows that Durham, plus a few bitter rival fans, have attempted to throw at us should be weighed up against the incredible amount of goodwill and nice things that have been said about us. A minor voice in a sea of positive noise. But it all reinforces a natural urge to throw a protective cloak over this football club and the community of supporters. This is our life that you are talking about.

Because as fantastic as it is to be generating headlines around the world; to have a huge amount of work colleagues who want to talk City; to know that other football fans have opinions on Nahki Wells’ potential to play in the Championship; to be trending on Twitter; and to have many, many Bradford City fans suddenly rediscover a love for the club that had been lost – these aren’t, and shouldn’t, be dictating the mood. Merely providing the background.

I have enjoyed reading dozens and dozens of newspaper match reports of the Arsenal and Aston Villa home and away games, but I didn’t need to read them. I have re-watched all three televised on my Sky TV box, but when I close my eyes and picture those great evenings it is from the viewpoint of my place in the stadium rather than the multiple angles TV provides. I was fortunate to be there first hand to witness all the incredible evenings. Collecting from them a vast portfolio of happy memories – memories that will stay with me for many, many years to come. Witnessing history being made first hand, that is priceless. Everything else is a souvenir to remind you of this incredible journey.

Unsure of your travel plans to Wembley? Want to show your appreciation to the club for their cup run or to wish them luck? Get involved with our community pages.

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How I almost missed out on Villa Park

26 Jan

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By Martin Gregory

Where to start? No sleep for three days ahead of the night, constantly pacing up and down, less intake of food than usual. No one would have thought this was for a football match.

This is not football though. Football is watching 4th division players lump the ball forward every week at obscure grounds like the Globe Arena and Crown Ground. This was another scale – the 2nd biggest domestic cup behind only the FA Cup. Nights like these do not happen to people from Bradford.

The day started with an unbelievable calmness. My theory being we had a great experience, whatever happened at Villa Park. The day started with a trip to the Shoulder of Mutton at Shelf; where we were on one of the three coaches travelling down with the Shelf Bantams. Various people in the pub were showing signs of nerves as the odd pint in three was supped with the words “we’re going to lose 4-0”. I was mocked after relaying my dream that we drew 1-1, with Benteke scoring early (I was not a million miles away!) I had this air of calmness, a bit like Blackpool away in 1996 – when I thought we would score the three goals needed to get to Wembley.

We hit the road about 2pm after the complementary sausage butties, and made a hasty stop at Birch services for the locals who had one too many nerves. This is when it all kicked in: lorry drivers wishing us well and other people saying “hope you destroy the Villa”. The two hours to our stopping point in Walsall seemed to just fly by. Upon entering the George Stevenson pub, there were cheers from the locals (I have never seen this before). We soon found most were West Brom and Wolves fans. It seemed we couldn’t lose.

The discussion in the pub was mainly centred at Hanson being the hero. This got a few laughs especially from my dad who predicted 1-2 and Wells to net the vital goal (he even guessed 3-1 in the first leg). We had to leave at 6.15pm to beat the M6 traffic – which is where the catastrophe begun.

7.30pm arrived and we were stuck three miles from Villa Park due to stationary traffic, just at the turn for spaghetti junction. Friction was beginning, as the driver would not take a chance in the outside lane. All the while our Villa Park dream is fast becoming a nightmare. After another 15 minutes waiting, we all decided to take our chance and jump the coach – running the last two miles to the ground.

Watching myself, my cousin (who somehow managed to drink and run at the same time) and my dad – who suffers with his legs – struggle through the snow along with at least 70 other fans was like Sly Stallone in Rocky IV, minus the tree logs.

After a couple of falls and slides, we made it to Villa Park – only to be told abruptly that we were on the wrong side for the away fans. We eventually managed to get in, just in time to see Benteke fizz the ball into the back of the net. What followed was 25 minutes of constant tension and pressure. You could see it etched on everyone around us. Once half time came there was an eerie calm. People around were muttering that we need to change, Hanson is a donkey, Wells looks disinterested. Myself? I just thought, hold it 15 minutes and we will be okay. There was nothing to lose.

Then a moment of coincidence. Gary Jones knocked a usual corner across the box and James Hanson somehow broke from Vlaar to head the ball into the top corner. This was marked down as in the 55th minute, but technically the 56th – 56 being the number of the fans we were doing this for. They will smile down with pride.

This unleashed pandemonium in the stands. One lad in front of us decided to crowd surf down seven rows. Two lads were crying. It was heart stopping. Having run all the way to the ground, and to then see City take the away goal, brought on a tightening of the chest (not in a bad way) and then emotion. Never have I screamed so loud. The old voice has not returned yet.

You could see from this goal that the Villa heads dropped. Not only the fans, but the players as well. Now City were on top, despite the claims from Talksport and Sky. Hanson had a chance to make it two but mistimed his header; then Garry Thompson nearly broke the crossbar. Things were going too well for City and the Wembley chants had started – although anyone who had been at Wolves, Blackpool, Liverpool and Everton would have known that we were not there yet!

On 88 minutes the unthinkable happened. A long punt down field from Blair Turgott’s mistimed cross (why did he not put it in the corner?) and Weimann had danced round Duke and scored. The not so noisy Villa fans suddenly come alive, and I could feel the nerves kick in and the expected equaliser to take it into extra time, which somehow did not come.

All I can remember next is Will Atkinson chesting the ball down and Phil Dowd blowing his whistle after 4 agonising minutes. Then Bang. The greatest roar ever. Dancing, shouting, people jumping and getting injured. Grown men crying and telling Gary Jones et all how much they loved them. It was delirium.

Our little 4th Division club were through to play on the grandest stage of them all. Stuff like this does not happen to Bradfordians! Outside the ground everyone was hugging and dancing, while the coaches prepared to set off. Illegal Vendors were knocking out Wembley 2013 City scarves and t-shirts. It was unreal.

We arrived back in Bradford at 1.30am, and the pub was opened for us to drink into the early hours. How many people, across the Bradford district, also stayed up until 5am watching the game over again?!

Dreams do come true!

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The New Normal

24 Jan

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By Alex Scott

I’m not sure what I can really add here. I’m not really sure what I’m feeling, let alone thinking. Every time I think about it, or watch any highlights, I become all giddy and have to go for a lie down. It’s been two days, I’m not really sure when this is going to wear off. I’m not really sure about anything anymore.

Football has never been more inequitable. Neither has life here. Football has never been more inequitable, and that just happened. I’m not really sure how we are supposed to attempt to rationalise something so inherently unfathomable. The stratification of our football (and our society) has made the highest echelons as attractive as any that have ever existed, whilst those below are ignored and utilised to further the ambitions of the few. Tuesday night wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a vehicle for a raising of the national morale for fifteen minutes, before the ruthless machinelike sanity would prevail with a ruthless machinelike Christian Benteke hat-trick.

And that’s the way it looked at half time. The narrative played out as perfectly as any of us could have hoped. We had our glory in the first leg; we battled, put on a good showing in the second, and receded back into the collective unconscious of the fourth tier. It was a miraculous story, one that would always live with us. Then James Hanson buried a header and life stopped making sense.

This isn’t normal.

It was fitting for the national storyline, and for those of us more unfortunately versed in the ways of Bradford City that it was James Hanson who stole the spotlight. Apparently, he used to work at a Co-op or something? I’ve heard a few rumblings about it this week.

Hanson, the reluctant hero of our story, the man who almost wasn’t, the man who almost is, the man who could never lead us to glory. A glory which we hitherto defined as League One. James Hanson, the man fans were clamouring to replace as recently as last week, and as often as every week before that for three years. It had to be him.

I’m sure, like me, you’ve all read the phrases ‘£7,500′ and ‘Co-op’ more often than your own name in the past few days. It’s a tad condescending, a touch reductive to endlessly belittle a talented professional footballer to his abnormal beginnings, but we are culprits as much as the national media. He noted it in the BBC post-match interview, Matt Duke rhapsodised about it in The Guardian, we sing about it whenever we can. It’s almost a badge of honour for our struggling working-class city that one of our own has achieved everything we all dreamt of children. Of course, the local boy done good is also used as a vehicle to vent our social insecurities, far more often than he is held up as a blue – (black and green) – collared hero.

We’ve seen him miss that header countless times. We saw him miss it at Morecambe on New Year’s Day. We even saw him miss it later on at Villa Park. But in the moment of need, it had to be him. It had to be him, and for all his flaws, his name will go down in City folklore with the rest of his comrades. The Class of 2013, whilst certainly not the most talented vintage witnessed at Valley Parade, they are arguably the greatest. And the fact they will get their moment in the sun, the opportunity to live out their (and our) dreams next month leaves me delirious. I’m beyond delighted for James Hanson.

There are far more qualified writers within our ranks here, and elsewhere, who can offer greater insight into the historical context of Phil Parkinson and The Class of 2013, and I’m sure they will. But if his legacy, which began by keeping Bradford City AFC in existence during his first year, ends nine months later with a historic trip to Wembley for a major cup final, Phil Parkinson surely must go down as the one of the greatest in our history. And what’s more, he might be the most talented.

Regardless of what happens in the league (an utter irrelevance at this point); we’ll never forget him, his image will be plastered on our fictional Mount Rushmore, and will adorn our newest lounge.

He has also managed to usurp the hitherto unchallenged title of Bradford’s Greatest Magician. Except it isn’t an illusion. There is no smoke. No mirrors. The trap door never opened, and the prestige is all that is left.

To do what he’s done with what he’s had, the gameplans he’s implemented and executed, the strength (mentally and physically) he’s instilled in his charges, the miraculous recruiting job he’s overseen. It’s spectacular. It’s preposterous. It’s a Football Manager CV. This doesn’t happen. This isn’t normal.

For Phil Parkinson however, nights like that may soon become some version of normal. He stands alone in the squad whose career might not ultimately defined by February 24, 2013.  It isn’t a secret his contract is up, and he could just about write his own ticket at this point. His career, which a defeat at Northampton nine months ago might have destroyed, has been rehabilitated to a stratosphere it only ever hinted at before.

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“Shhhhhhh”

The away support’s deafening hush followed the first sparse rendition of ‘Que Sera Sera…’ which rang around the away end shortly after James Hanson’s equaliser. We’re nothing if we’re not pragmatists. You can take the boys out of Bradford, but we’ll always think things are about to implode.

Nights like Tuesday night, whilst becoming routine for us over recent months, will never be the norm. For anyone. Even if City magically materialised in the top half of the Premier League tomorrow, we wouldn’t ever see times like these. Feel what we have felt. The fact these things are so rare, almost unprecedented, is what made them what they were. The sheer absurdity of them perplexes the mind, and the bemused ecstasy which characterised the post-match celebrations betrayed as much.

Over a long league season, the emotion dissipates, and the last Premier League season aside, that channel of emotion seldom comes down to one distinct moment in time. They are so rare. You might go a whole career and never witness one. And we’ve had a handful of those moments on this run. We are unprecedented. Case studies in the world of fan, and club psychology. Nobody believes in us; we aren’t close enough to the opposition for any of us to even theorise victory, let alone believe in it. It isn’t normal, and it never will be.

The distinction of normal is no more apparent than Wembley week. Sunday sees a trip to a major final at The Home of Football. Three later sees a Division Four match-up against Dagenham & Redbridge. The two states could not be more polarised, yet they are the same. We are Schrödinger’s football club. This isn’t, and could never be described as normal.

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Of everything this team and this manager have given me (and it’s a lot), losing my pragmatism is the most rewarding. As a character, I’ve always been pensive, reserved. I attempted to analyse everything, mostly to a fault. I have a degree in economics; my rationality and consideration are the characteristics which have afforded me the blessed life I live. And (again, mostly to a fault), my personality inevitably falls back towards that. In everything, football especially. Safety in numbers. Moneyball. Et cetera, et cetera.

This team has changed me. My normal has changed. The emotion this team has elicited from me has hitherto only been tapped by ‘real’ life. This is a new feeling. This is a new normal for me. I have an emotional attachment to this team that I haven’t had before. I’d sign everyone up again. I’m aware of, and consciously ignorant to, the practicalities. I want to get carried away. I’ve never felt able to get carried away in my life as a football fan with Bradford or England.

But I see the wonderful, exaggerated, bemused expressions on the face of Carl McHugh, the beam of Nathan Doyle, the tears of Gary Jones, I don’t want anyone else. I’ve always loved the club, primarily as a curse of birth. But I don’t know if I’ve ever loved a team, a collection of players that have meant as much to me. And I know I’m getting carried away. I’ll look back on this in six months and cringe, but that’s sort of the point. The unrelenting, incessant nature of football lends itself to peaks and troughs, booms and busts. Aiming to minimise both, living the median is the logical way to approach football. Nothing is as good as it seems, and nothing is as bad.

That’s the way I have always experienced football. Rationality. Consideration. I’ve had safety in the knowledge there’s a “smart” way to be a football fan. As I stumbled down rows of seats on Tuesday after that header, rationality had never been further from my mind. Being a Bradford City fan has been a particularly joyless endeavour for the last decade, the process of letting oneself get swept up in the ebbs and flows would have been bordering on the masochistic. One…, I, had to numb myself with a layer of thought, of reason, a cocoon from emotion. Phil Parkinson hasn’t just made it OK to feel again, he’s allowed me, us, to love again. And for all the wonderful, magical feats he has conjured within our confines, that will be his legacy in my mind.

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We are Cinderella. In a month’s time, for one fleeting moment, we will all be stood within The Home of Football, delirious, watching our club, our city, compete in a major final. It’s not a big fairy tale. It’s not an illusion. It’s real. Who’s got it better than us? Nobody.

Things will never go back to the way they were. Our old normality has been shattered. What our new normal will consist of, I don’t know. Maybe this will prove a springboard, a catalyst to growth. Maybe it won’t. It doesn’t really matter at this point. Whichever way it falls, this is the dawning of a new era. The ‘Post-Premiership Blues’ are over. A new moniker, a new home, a new normal awaits.

Regardless of whatever lies on the other side, whatever our destiny holds…This is the best trip I’ve ever been on. And I don’t want to go home.

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Villa 2 Bradford City 1 (agg 3-4) – how the players rated

23 Jan

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By Luke Lockwood

There are 11 men who will forever be associated with the most memorable night in Bradford City’s history. 11 men who are suddenly in the national spotlight. These players have performed what some will go as far as calling a miracle. How are you supposed to rate something so extraordinary and unexpected?

Rating players on last night’s performance offers great deal of difficulty, because they were playing a side who – on paper – should have torn them apart.

Somewhat unfairly when rating players out of 10, you take into account their ability and levels of expectations you have for that player. For example, Gary Jones has been that consistently brilliant for Bradford this year, and you expect those high standards week after week. Then suddenly he will have a slightly under par week and you become far more critical of him because he is not reaching the high standards he has set himself.

In League Two we have these set expectations: James Hanson should bully centre halves, Nahki Wells should tear them apart with his pace and skill, Jones and Nathan Doyle should dominate in midfield. If they don’t, we think they have underperformed, but against these Premier League sides they are against a far superior footballer and these levels of expectations don’t apply.

It would be easy to give every player 9s and 10s last night, because they overcame all the odds and went way beyond our levels of expectations – but is that a fair assessment? The task of judging these players on last night’s performance truly is impossible.

Matt Duke – 9

Possibly the story of the League Cup so far, Duke’s Bradford career looked over last year when he was loaned out to Northampton. Then following the Crawley brawl he was summoned back to save us in our relegation battle. At the time, the Crawley fall out looked like it would have disastrous consequences but maybe everything does happen for a reason.

Last night Duke was an assured, calm, experienced head amongst a nervous young side. He pulled off a number of excellent saves to deny Villa and calmed everyone down, as the rest of the side played kick and rush football. He couldn’t do anything about the goal but one of the few faults in his game is deciding when to come off his line. This indecision was evident on a couple of occasions last night and was possibly partly to blame for the second goal.

Stephen Darby – 8

Darby keeps impressing me more and more – his place at right back might be in doubt when Andrew Davies returns (pushing Rory McArdle over to right back), which would be such a shame. Very willing to get forward and support his winger, but at the same time very aware of when he should stay back – Darby’s reading of the game is probably his strongest quality.

Rory McArdle – 7

The outstanding performer of our League Cup run so far, but last night was his weakest game yet. Possibly at fault in the build up to the second goal and struggled to cope with Benteke’s prowess in the air for the majority of the evening – letting him slip far too easily for the first goal. However, marking Benteke was probably the most difficult job of all City players and the way the Belgian international attacks the ball in the air is quite frightening – fortunately for Bradford he appears to have a head like a 50 pence piece!

Until the ball was put into the box he coped fantastically well and because of the task at hand I really struggled to rate his performance. McArdle sums up everything that has been good about Bradford this year: commitment, desire and a winning mentality. He has been the man who is making the last ditch tackle or getting someone else out of jail throughout the rounds and, without him, we would not have made it this far.

Carl McHugh – 8

The rise of the young Irishman has been quite outstanding and when Parkinson first brought him in I’m sure he felt it would be an education season with a limited amount of playing time. Well he has learnt a lot but he’s had to learn fast. Has filled the boots of Davies and Oliver superbly and has a sense of composure that belies his years. This was again evident last night.

Curtis Good – 7

In the first half last night, one of the players we missed most last night was Meredith, a natural full back. Atkinson was often outnumbered on the left hand side and running around tirelessly. Good – naturally a centre half – seemed to be playing too close to McHugh, although this could have been part of Parkinson’s tactics. We struggled to cope with Villa’s widemen and the right hand side is where the majority of their threat came from. On the other hand, Good seemed to fair much better in the second half and improved as the game wore on.

Zavon Hines – 8

Another excellent performance, despite Villa’s attempts to double up on him. What frustrates me most about Zavon is that his best performances appear to come in the League Cup, but he can’t reproduce this in the league. Not quite as impressive as he was in the first leg, but then he received a lot more attention from the Villa defenders this time!

Gary Jones – 8

Like Curtis Good, Jones improved the longer the game went on and it is remarkable how a man of his age can keep going. He appeared to be guilty of rushing things in the first half, but the captain really shone when his team needed him most.

Nathan Doyle – 7

Doyle appears to be the player who suffers the most when it comes to the League Cup. When playing in the league everything seems so effortless for him and his superior ability shines through. He dictates tempo and constantly appears to be receiving the ball, shifting it on and looking for the return. However, when he plays against sides from the top league he is no longer superior in terms of ability and has to adapt his game. We require more hustle and bustle from him; he’s a big lad and needs to put his weight around a little more.

Last night he had less time on the ball than he is used to in League Two, and the game was played at a much quicker pace. He took time to adapt – however, like many others he came good in the second half and showed his quality.

Will Atkinson – 7

As discussed Will suffered from not having a natural left back behind him. A lot is made of City wingers providing protection for their full backs but this should be a two way thing and – at times – he was playing almost as a left back. Probably another who the nerves got the better of in the first half and often gave a sloppy pass away when City had the opportunity to counter and retain possession – but he looked a lot more comfortable in the second half.

Nakhi Wells – 7

Nakhi was kept quiet for the majority of the game by Villa’s defence but he always remained a threat that meant they couldn’t relax and push on too much. The fact that they were wary of the problems he could cause if given the opportunity made things easier for his teammates, and he almost equalised with City’s best effort in the first half. If he is one day to step up to this kind of level he will have to find another dimension to his game. Fortunately with Wembley on the horizon he is very unlikely to leave before the summer and hopefully – if we get promoted – we can hold onto him even longer.

James Hanson – 10

Goal scorer, man of the match and simply outstanding. Hopefully the goal gives him the confidence to regain his form in the league, but all those who have been criticising him recently should look at his opposite number Benteke. Considered one of the best prospects in the Premier League, in two legs against us he has had numerous fantastic opportunities but repeatedly failed. The Villa fans still think he’s fantastic and he is probably paid and worth 10 times more than Hanson.

James scored the all important goal, ran himself into the ground and put his big frame about. He was also playing with a broken toe requiring an injection before kick off.

Team – 10

The one performance better than Hanson; at times players made mistakes, rushed passes and let the nerves get the better of them but they worked so hard for each other and the commitment and desire was evident for all to see. This team will forever be remembered fondly amongst City fans and many other neutrals across the country.

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The greatest night in Bradford City’s history?

23 Jan

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Aston Villa 2

Benteke 24, Weimann 89

Bradford City 1

Hanson 55

Bradford City win 4-3 on aggregate

Tuesday 22 January, 2013

By Jason McKeown

The secret behind ageing – or maturing if you will – is the level of weariness you build up in your head. You’ve seen it all before, you know how life works – its ups and its downs – and it feels as though nothing can truly surprise you again. And yet last night at Villa Park, I experienced emotions that I did not know existed, and was part of events that three decades on this planet has taught me can never happen. Is this a life-changing moment, or a coming of age? Far from being 31-years-old this morning, I feel like a child filled with wonderment.

Bradford City, our Bradford City, has beaten Aston Villa to reach the League Cup Final, and will be playing at Wembley. Take a moment to enjoy that sentence, please. This match report can almost end now; there is nothing else I can write to equal that shock value or level of pleasure. This type of scenario – a fourth tier club knocking out three Premier League sides to reach a major final – doesn’t happen. Failure was surely our destiny. Glorious failure, maybe, but failure nonetheless.

Instead we have been treated to a series of moments, and a certain February 24 date, that I never thought was possible. Growing up watching football for the best part of two decades, that feeling of jealousy when I watch teams walk out for League Cup or FA Cup finals never dims. Ever since I first stumbled across the Bantams, I had dreamed of us making a cup final. But I had long, long since accepted that such occasions would never occur. They are not for the likes of us. And certainly not when we are a League Two side, who in recent times has struggled even to hold onto that lowly status.

When the final whistle went at Villa Park, it was difficult to take in the realisation of what the players and management had just achieved. But we certainly did our best to, revelling in celebrations that in a flash took you back to Wolves in 1999. Was this better, or not quite at that level? I find it impossible to compare, not yet anyway. All I know was this felt different. This time I cried.

The whole evening was set to be special, no matter what. A build up featuring days and days of being riddled with nerves, failing hopelessly to sleep at night, finally gave way to match day and the beginning of celebrating whatever fate had in store. As soon as we set foot inside a raucous Witton Arms pub two minutes from the away end – jam-packed full of City fans inside and outside, loudly going through our back catalogue of chants – the nerves melted away. You simply have to live and breathe in every second of this, while at the back of your head you continue building your defence mechanisms to cope with the inevitably of City bowing out.

Inside Villa Park, the eeriness of thousands of light blue seats half an hour before kick off gradually transformed into a crescendo of noise from a packed out stadium. And at around 7.30pm, the home fans unleashed their secret weapon upon us – every one of them had been given a flag to wave. It looked impressive for sure, but somewhat Premier League plastic fantastic. The fact the club had to fork out a significant sum of brass buying these flags, in order to aid their fans in backing them on the field, helped to smash all illusions that 35,000 Brummies were going to intimidate our players. We can do this.DSCF6344

It was a tough one for Phil Parkinson and Steve Parkin. Taking a two-goal lead to a second leg was not an easy scenario to prepare the team for. Go for it in the attack, or keep 10 men behind the ball and deny them space? City seemed caught between two minds. They got the ball up to James Hanson quickly enough, but left only Nahki Wells as an option to flick the ball onto. Zavon Hines continued to relish his personal battle with Joe Bennett; but it was as though the other seven outfield players daren’t cross the half way line. First move to Villa.

The home side started off doing everything right, from their point of view. They began to apply strong pressure that encouraged their crowd, with Charles N’Zogbia and Christian Benteke looking every inch those scary blokes who can rip apart our dreams whilst barely breaking into a sweat. The true secret to a strong first half was Paul Lambert’s decision to play Steven Ireland in a free role behind his front three players. The Irishman popped up all over the park, leaving the excellent Curtis Good – who would probably have expected to be marking him – in an awkward position regarding who he should pick up. At times Good had to play as a third centre back and Will Atkinson left back to cover, inviting more Villa players to get forward.

But yet, 24 minutes of pressure seemed to be fizzling out. The home crowd’s flags had long since stopped waving. It was all getting quiet. We seemed to have sorted out the initial issues and were looking stronger. Alas, Bennett was allowed space to cross the ball from deep, and the otherwise magnificent Rory McArdle lost Benteke for a split second. Bang, the Belgian volleyed the ball past Matt Duke. Stephen Darby and Hines argued over who should have stopped the cross.

The encouragement that reducing the arrears offered Villa saw them continue to pour forward. Duke made a string of outstanding saves – the best a tip over from N’Zogbia’s long-range piledriver. Ireland was pulling the strings. Benteke blew a glorious chance to make it 2-0. It was a horrible half of football to watch. Tortuous in the extreme. Just get to the interval only 1-0 down, please. Yet the clock was ticking by painfully slowly. Finally a good City chance saw Wells fire a shot narrowly past the post with Shay Given scrambling. But it was a relief to finally hear the half time whistle soon after.

Parkinson used the interval well. Oh to be a fly on the wall to hear his words of motivation. City became more organised and disciplined in their shape, but crucially more confident and finally starting to do something they failed badly at during the first 45 – keep possession. Gary Jones and Nathan Doyle – anonymous up to then – finally started to play like the men we know they are. Yet the tide had not fully turned, and Villa came out strongly again. When Good sliced a clearance that fortuitously fell into Duke’s hands, you wondered if we were about to collapse.

But that panicky mistake by Good ultimately was THE turning point. The moment the players seemed to collectively shake themselves up and down and say to each other, “right, no more of this”. And they duly went down the other end and scored.

Just like the opening goal in the first leg, Hines’ trickery and pace forced Bennett into the concession of a corner. Just like the second goal in the first leg, the first corner attempt by Gary Jones ended with the ball coming off a Villa player and allowing Jones another opportunity. From the second corner, he delivered the ball invitingly to the back post. Hanson pulled away from Ron Vlaar, Benteke could not react in time, and City’s number nine was free to plant a bullet header into the net. I was so pleased for him.

The celebrations. Wow. We’ve had some incredible goal moments over the last few weeks, but like the evening as a whole this one felt different to any other that I have celebrated before. It was like an out of body experience. As though I had floated up and was looking down on myself going absolutely crazy. I had no control over what my body was doing. There was no way I could stop myself from jumping up and down, even if I had wanted to. Yet ultimately I had not conceded control of my arms and legs, but my mind. I was completely lost in the sea of delirium. I’ve no idea how long it lasted, but it was some time before I came to.

I’m sure it was like that for everyone else there tonight. No offence to the extra 10,000 or so City supporters who came to the Arsenal and Villa home games – and, equally, I know full well that some of our most committed fans could not be here tonight, my wife for example – but this felt like a night where the faith of City’s hardcore supporters was rewarded. As I finally calmed down, I looked over at my friend – and fellow Width of a Post writer – Gareth Walker stood next to me, and realised he’d had to sit down for a few moments because he was so overcome with emotion. Around me there was a sea of happy, happy faces.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Just like the first leg, City scoring completely altered Villa’s performance. Now 4-2 down on aggregate, their brittle confidence was back on show. The introduction of Darren Bent did nothing to change the pattern of the game that was now seeing direct long balls launched aimlessly by the Premier League side, and passing football from the League Two outfit. The defence were looking strong, with Carl McHugh probably man of the match for City. (How old? unbelievable composure from the lad.) Hanson had another great opportunity when presented with a free header. He should have scored, in truth. Soon after the superb Darby charged down the wing and crossed the ball for substitute Garry Thompson, who with his first touch fired a half volley that rattled the crossbar.

However it was Villa who would find the net again, when another substitute, Andreas Weimann, was played through on goal by Bent, rounded Duke and slotted the ball home. The tie had looked all over, Villa fans were even flooding for the exits. But now there was another minute and four additional for stoppage time to get through. 3-4 on aggregate. One more Villa goal would force extra time. Cue those nerves again.

I could barely watch, especially when Villa won a corner during the first of those four injury time minutes. Everyone but Given was in our box, and although we got it away eventually the ball kept coming back. Some superb play by Thompson in getting the ball to the corner flag alleviated the tension, but for the final minute all I could do was stare at Phil Dowd, longing for him to put us out of our misery. Tears of joy had started to fall down my face. I can’t believe what we are about to achieve.

In hindsight – and I do stress, in hindsight (it was bloody awful at the time) – Villa’s winner on the night was a good thing because it allowed the celebrations at the final whistle to carry that extra edge. Five minutes between Weimann’s goal and Dowd’s ending of the game had built up an unbearable level of tension, but now we had our release. For the second time in the evening, I was no longer in control of my thoughts, emotions and legs. When self-awareness eventually returned, I and almost everyone around me was stood on our chairs cheering the players, who looked equally happy, in front of us. Not even an idiotic Villa fan who invaded the pitch to make a half-hearted attempt at attacking our players could spoil the moment.

We’re going to Wembley!

The lights were turned out on the stand before we realised it was finally time to leave. But fair play to the Villa fans who were still around outside, for congratulating us and saying nice things. And where have all these ‘City Wembley 2013’ flags come from, which several fans were purchasing? A very opportunistic sales vendor had taken an almighty risk getting those produced before the match.

I think that any great football supporting moment gives rise to spouting clichés and going through a thesaurus to fire off superlatives. Like all clichés, they exist because they are riddled in truth, of course. But to me this evening was different to anything I have ever experienced before and probably will again.

Because this wasn’t the greatest feeling I could possibly ever experience following a football club – it was better than that. This wasn’t just about winning a two-legged game of football, it was realising that the boundaries City have just smashed prove that the limitations we think exist within our own lives can be smashed as well.

City have completely redefined what is possible within football, and at the same time should provide us with inspiration that we can apply away from football – inspiration that can serve us well for years. Bradford as a city is a great example. It is so bogged down with failure and tripping over itself – no more can we accept this state of affairs. “The sixth biggest city in the country” was uttered on the radio several times on the journey home; well now it’s time the sixth biggest city in the country followed its football club’s lead and built a better place befitting that status. Don’t tell me that’s not possible. League Two Bradford City getting to the League Cup Final, that’s not possible.

Whatever happens at Wembley, nothing can – or should – ever be the same again. Financially, the club is surely set up for years now. That will give us the momentum to rise up the divisions over the next few years, regardless of whether we can do it this time around. The future is unexpectedly, and quite stunning, brighter than it has ever looked.

City: Duke, Darby, McArdle, McHugh, Good, Hines (Thompson 71), Gary Jones, Doyle, Atkinson, Hanson, Wells (Turgott 87)

Not used: McLaughlin, Nelson, Ravenhill, Reid, Connell

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Width of a Post writers Mark Scully, Rob Craven, Gareth Walker and Jason McKeown before the match.

Width of a Post writers Mark Scully, Rob Craven, Gareth Walker and Jason McKeown before the match.

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Aston Villa vs Bradford City build up: I’m a celebrity, knock me out of here!

22 Jan

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Aston Villa vs Bradford City League Cup semi final preview

@Villa Park on Tuesday 22 January, 2013

By Phil Abbott

Will David Cameron be polling higher or lower than Paul Lambert in the popularity polls come Tuesday night? Tom Hanks will surely be hoping that his beloved Villa are in ‘A league of their own’, rather than ‘Cast Away’ by the mighty Bantams. Perhaps Benjamin Zephaniah will be left waxing lyrical at the much expected Villa comeback, or left penning a sonorous, somber litany of defeat. Maybe Nigel Kennedy’s boys might hit the right note or will the evening end on a cacophony of discord? Even Mervyn King might be lending a hand if his club cash in on a Wembley date, but he might just be left counting the cost instead.

If football matches are won on the strength of the celebrity lists, then Aston Villa will plough over Bradford City in the League Cup semi final second leg clash. All we’ve had on our celebrity list for sometime is a fella on the local weather and a kid with a City poster in Emmerdale. Then of course, recently, onto the scene has popped an A-lister with similar powers to the BCAFC cup machine – Dynamo Magician!

Just as Dynamo has bamboozled the world with his tricks, so Bradford City have defied all logic by reaching the semi finals of a major football competition from the depths of the 4th tier of football. What was deemed a step too far for the Bantams over two legs may yet be another rationale that deceives pundits and footy fans the world over. With a 3-1 lead, City have a genuine chance of making Dynamo the Magician look like an average kids party entertainer.

The football community is creeping closer to the edge of the sofa to catch a glimpse of what could be the greatest cup achievement in a generation, ‘neutrals’ undivided in their support for the underdog Yorkshiremen. We all love to witness a remarkable story unfolding and the 6,500 travelling City entourage will be dwarfed by the millions viewing the game across the country and around the world. What for all the footballing nouse engaged in predicting the final outcome of the game, there is no consensus on anything.

So what is it that makes the prediction of a game which throws together a Premier League team at home to a League Two side so difficult? On so many levels, there ought to be no debate about the outcome, but there are a number of key factors that, together, could just make the impossible happen:

Villa’s recent form

Confidence plays a huge part in the success of a team and Aston Villa are far from relaxed and care-free on the pitch. They have haemorrhaged goals from all angles, being particularly brittle from set-piece plays. City are strong in this aspect of the game and caused untold problems for the Villains in the first leg.

I fancy City to score on Tuesday night, and would wager that it might well come from a set piece situation. The first goal, and its timing, however, could be absolutely crucial. If City are leading at half time, it’s time to book the London hotel; if it’s all square, with City on the scoreboard, I think we are still in the box seat; but, I would fear for us if we are to be trailing at the interval, especially if we aren’t on the scoresheet. Form is temporary, and City must not give Aston Villa a sniff.

City’s cup pedigree this season

Time after time this season, Bradford City have defied all odds in brushing aside opposition they had no right to beat. That shows calibre, determination and desire, where other teams have been left licking their war wounds, once clinically dispatched. A word of warning however – the unknown factor here is that for the first time in the competition, the Bantams play the same opposition team again; there’s a chance for Villa to gain revenge and the unexpected elements of City’s game are much better known to them this time round.

City’s lead

Just as Villa pulled a goal back at Valley Parade, the collective sigh from those around me was shared, knowing the importance such an away goal would likely play in the final reckoning. It seemed that at 2-1 up, City fans would be leaving Valley Parade having had a great night, celebrating a famous win, but going home knowing that Villa were the firm, uncontested favourites for a Wembley final place.

However, the third and final Bantams goal in the 87th minute may just be the goal that gives City enough of a cushion to defend. What do you think?

Pitch size

I’m told it’s a big, wide pitch at Villa Park and that this will benefit the home team hugely. Yes, okay, their undoubted pace will cause us problems in midfield, and perhaps challenge our fitness late on too. That said, big pitches can only mean more space for the likes of Hines, Turgott and Wells to exploit with their blistering bursts.

The groundswell of City opinion is that we should not go with a defensive shape and should get at them early on with a positive and attacking line-up. I’m expecting a very similar make-up to the team from the first leg, injuries apart. It’s swings and roundabouts on this one. No wonder we can’t make a prediction with any sort of consensus!

Physicality

I had the distinct misfortune to find myself at the Etihad Stadium on Saturday to watch Man City dispatch of Fulham in what was a turgid borefest of a game. Having no loyalties to either side, instead, I watched the game from a League Two perspective. It was often pretty and ornate, punctuated with moments of brilliance, including slide rule precision for the two Blues goals. But, in amongst all the pantomime, there was a lack of physicality in all areas of the field.

If big James Hanson was out there for Fulham, the Premier League Champions could have been up against it. It’s food and drink in League Two, but certainty not in the top tier. If City can find this on Tuesday night, especially in both penalty areas, there’s every chance of pulling off another huge upset.

The lap of the Gods

For those who believe, the football Gods are usually a pretty measured, unromantic lot. You only have to look at some of City’s games in between each of their giant-killing victories! The fact that fate has allowed City to reach this stage goes far beyond their usual boundaries of fantasy. My gut feeling is that, if the footballing Gods are really pulling the strings, City will finally bow out of the competition at the semi final stage. Historically, the underdogs rarely make it all the way; it’s the stuff of dreams and they rarely come true for fourth tier football clubs. I’m desperate for a City win, and anything can happen.

So, will us City fans be drowning social media outlets come Wednesday morning with strains of ‘David Cameron, Tom Hanks, Benjamin Zephaniah, Nigel Kennedy, Mervyn King; Your boys took one hell of a beating?’ or will we be shouting ‘get me out of here’ with 10 minutes left of normal time?

Who knows? Don’t, however, be relying on Dynamo magician to do the job for us! If it were possible for this kind of thing to happen, Uri Geller would not have allowed Exeter City to be sharing a place in our league…

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