The English Lower League thread
- Thread starter Stray Wasp
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I would be happy with either team going up. Proper premier league teams in my book, especially Villa.
Derby and Boro had chances in the past and did very little with them.
koyvoo
Registered User
- Nov 8, 2014
- 17,265
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Derby never seem to get over the line, either fall in the playoffs or choke a playoff spot late in the season. With respect to Boro, I didn't want to see a Pulis team in the EPL as a neutral. Prefer Fulham over Villa simply because of their style of play and Jokanovic deserves a shot at managing in the Premier League after what happened to him at Watford
Fulham passes the 'nearer my front door' test, which is always useful. I've mentioned earlier in this thread that failure to win promotion might have alarming consequences for them, what with their parachute payments ending this season. As such, I hope they win. Which probably dooms them.
Steve Bruce has had an awful year personally- both his parents died. The last time I saw a photo of him he looked worryingly tired and out of shape, which is little surprise given he regularly commuted between the West Midlands and north east to spend time with his mother during her final illness. Some burden for anyone, let alone a man of fifty-seven doing an already draining job.
So for once I find myself in the unusual position of wishing Steve Bruce well. Still, I draw the line at hoping Villa return to the top flight.
Steve Bruce has had an awful year personally- both his parents died. The last time I saw a photo of him he looked worryingly tired and out of shape, which is little surprise given he regularly commuted between the West Midlands and north east to spend time with his mother during her final illness. Some burden for anyone, let alone a man of fifty-seven doing an already draining job.
So for once I find myself in the unusual position of wishing Steve Bruce well. Still, I draw the line at hoping Villa return to the top flight.
Shrewsbury Town vs. Rotherham United in the League 1 playoff final (May 27)
Shrewsbury Town last were in the 2nd tier in 1989 while Rotherham looking to return to the Championship after one season (would join Blackburn and Wigan doing the same feat)
Shrewsbury Town last were in the 2nd tier in 1989 while Rotherham looking to return to the Championship after one season (would join Blackburn and Wigan doing the same feat)
I probably saw some video cassette from 1989 while I was touring Europe. Our coach driver lived in Shrewsbury and put that on a few times.
Chimaera
same ol' Caps
I would prefer Fulham to Villa, but it doesn't really matter. Either one would be a decent addition to the EPL.
Fulham have much more riding on the Final than Villa.
If we lose our entire squad will be dismantled. A loss means
Ryan Fredericks leaves on a free to the Prem
Instead of resigning
Ryan Sess goes for 50+ million
We lose Mitrovic. As he will sign for a prem team
Cairney and Johansen leave to Prem teams for 10+ million each
And no more parachute payments
If we lose our entire squad will be dismantled. A loss means
Ryan Fredericks leaves on a free to the Prem
Instead of resigning
Ryan Sess goes for 50+ million
We lose Mitrovic. As he will sign for a prem team
Cairney and Johansen leave to Prem teams for 10+ million each
And no more parachute payments
spintheblackcircle
incoming!!!
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sabremike
Friend To All Giraffes And Lindy Ruff
Paulie Gualtieri
R.I.P. Tony Sirico
- May 18, 2016
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Hopefully Jokanovic sticks around this time, when he took Watford up he immediately left due to a contract dispute 
Ceremony
blahem
- Jun 8, 2012
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N o o d l e s
Registered User
Wish we could have gotten Wolves, Villa and Fulham all in instead of Cardiff, especially with Swansea going down. Great derby.
Paulie Gualtieri
R.I.P. Tony Sirico
- May 18, 2016
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robertmac43
Forever 43!
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A friend of a friend had a spare ticket going for the playoff final and didn’t even want payment for my taking it off his hands. With Fulham having impressed me as a decent team, and my fervently hoping they’d pay Newcastle a sixteen-figure sum for Mitrovic the second they were promoted, it made sense to go along and add moral support.
What I hadn’t expected was how much I’d drink during my Friday night post-work do, or how little I’d sleep afterwards. Worse, living in London has ruin my concept of what is a long journey- I now consider any trip by public transport above 20 minutes’ length tantamount to visiting the moon. The upshot was I reluctantly dragged my arse to the tube so late the game was about to kick off when I reached Wembley Park station. This problem was exacerbated when I failed to pay attention to the stadium map. Thus I gained my seat 10 minutes into the game having walked around roughly 75% of the stadium’s outside.
‘Iconic Wembley’ says an advertising board on the walk up to the ground- an embarrassing piece of self-regarding marketing pap in my opinion. From the outside, it’s imposing, but I find the interior devoid of grandeur. It’s just massive and functional. The PR announcer spouts corporate garbage, and it strikes me as risible that the self-styled ‘Home of football’ doesn’t trust fans to remember what the score is at the end of each half without the PA nitwit yapping it out. Mind, having previously visited for a couple of NFL games, it looks better when packed with football fans.
Both sets of supporters were in good voice early on, though Villa’s seemed louder. That was the Midland club’s only positive from the first half. They resembled a Championship team playing a Premier League team- or perhaps a team coached by a high-ranking member of the English hackocracy faced with someone whose influences are more recent than 2004. ‘Old and tired’, Jokanovic had taunted them before the game, and I’d have agreed with him if by ‘tired’ he meant overly dependent on either getting the ball out wide to ping in hopeful crosses or depending on a moment of individual magic. The likeliest to provide the latter was Jack Grealish, but he never really combined with anyone. Snodgrass had a couple of moments when he seemed to be expecting to find someone to pass to, only to look up and find no worthwhile options, perhaps because in central midfield there was merely sluggish industry. Lewis Grabban couldn’t get into the game. For John Terry, meanwhile, the game was less Nuremburg rally than Nuremburg trial- he didn’t seem able to run at all, and he produced at least four long passes that were witless in conception that didn’t land within ten yards of their intended target.
Early on, it seemed Bruce had got it into his head that the key to success was Snodgrass beating Matt Targett to headers near the opposition’s left touchline at a distance of no less than 35 yards to goal. Jokanovic had made a shrewder observation- Alan Hutton, now 33 years old, was a dry rot-infested peg clumsily pounded to fit into a very deep and probably stagnant left back hole. Maybe Villa gave Fulham too much space. Maybe Fulham earned that space by being too good for them. Though the Cottagers mainly passed with precision rather than zip, McDonald, Cairney and Johansen circulated possession in midfield. Cairney, again, was the star for me- if he has range to his passing in terms of distance, I haven’t seen it, but at this level his short pass-and-move game is splendid.
Ryan Sessegnon was struggling to make his mark, but on the right flank Kamara looked a stronger, faster, more direct threat than Floyd Ayite had seemed against Wolves. Ryan Fredericks overlapped less than on that evening, showed signs of vulnerability, and was lucky not to walk for wiping his studs on Grealish. Targett, however, was frequently a useful outlet. In the middle, Ream impressed me greatly again. Denis Odoi, who’d been mentioned pre-game as a possible weak spot, looked undersized yet abetted his team with some good passes and timely interceptions. Once more, both centre backs could count on Kevin McDonald’s capable covering on the occasions they pushed forwards.
Villa’s greatest threat seemed to come from set-pieces- the English hack’s last resort- or Fulham misplacing passes out of defence. Once such mishap led to Odoi picking up an ever so slightly ominous-looking yellow card. While Kamara hit what in real time appeared a spectacular volley over the bar, the concern for Jokanovic would have been a failure to create clear-cut chances. Happily for him, the first one that came Cairney finished it. Hearteningly, a key factor in the move was Sessegnon smartly creating space for himself and slipping a nice through ball. Another heartening factor was that while all this was happening, John Terry seemed to have been daydreaming about goose-stepping into Stamford Bridge for a reunion next season.
Still, demoralised as Villa seemed, they only went into the break a goal down. Bruce manifestly gave his men a half-time rocket. Left wing Albert Adomah was pinpointed as the man to lead the revival, and he proved to have the beating of Fredericks. Suddenly, while central midfield remained their weakness, crosses were fizzing into Fulham’s box- and the Whites were struggling to deal with them. Snodgrass missed the target. A cross flapped by Bettinelli onto Grealish’s head rebounded wide. Fulham were struggling to break out of their own half, and when Mitrovic failed to score with a header, I wondered if the forces of darkness were stirring. At times, Cairney seemed to move ahead of the ball too early, removing himself as an outlet option.
Villa’s response to the Mitrovic chance was nigh instant. Grabban hesitated when Grealish fashioned him a shooting chance. The latter was very prominent now, albeit still more an individual threat than a genuine string-puller. He slipped over when running with the ball on two or three occasions, and he received rough treatment from Jokanovic’s men too. On the hour he did something superb. Significantly, the incident began with Fulham cheaply coughing up possession rather than Villa outpassing them. Grealish latched on to the ball in the centre circle and tore upfield, bamboozling some opponents and simply scaring others. A gap opened in the penalty area, into which Grealish sped. Bettinelli, however, came off his line and saved. Two minutes later Grealish, seemingly frustrated, committed a ghastly sliding foul on Cairney that referee Anthony Taylor let off with a yellow. A couple of minutes after that, McDonald headed wide from a corner having blatantly been grabbed off his balance by the defender who’d lost him. Kamara, in the Villa penalty area, appeared to be fouled twice in the space of five seconds without a penalty award. By this stage, what sport Anthony Taylor believed he was overseeing was uncertain.
It was against this backdrop that Odoi was rightly booked again for what seemed a desperate rather than vindictive kick at Grealish amid some panic near the edge of the Cottagers’ eighteen yard box. Out came the red card, at which Villa fans who’d hitherto been undercover among Fulham supporters hit upon the brilliant idea of leaping from their seats in celebration. Cue a handful of demented Londoners throwing flags, swearing, threatening and spitting at them. And this, mark you, when their side lead.
If anything, a man advantage was a cruelty to Villa, because it gave their and Bruce’s lack of imagination nowhere to hide. From the far end of the stadium it seemed to me they had a pair of reasonable penalty shouts denied them, one for a handball, the other for a foul. Nevertheless, Bettinelli wasn’t exactly having to impersonate Gordon Banks. Kodija and Scott Hogan’s arrivals meant more blokes in need or service and fewer players to serve them, so ultimately they went to their doom in somewhat tame fashion.
Which means Steve Bruce suffers professional disappointment to add to personal tragedy. One hopes he thinks very carefully about his next move- he cuts a spent, alarmingly heavy figure, and while immersing himself in football for a distraction may appeal as a prospect, I feel he’d be best served by a restorative sabbatical from the game. After all, Villa’s parachute payments will decrease by more than half next season. Cuts and player sales will likely be the order of the day. Stress will be heaped on existing strains.
Like relegated sunderland (who I should mention in passing were relegated to League One after they lost 2-1 at home to Burton Albion having scored first), this is a club of historic standing and potential. But they’re like relegated sunderland in another way- they’ve dished it out to Newcastle United fans in the past (and without the local rivalry that made the then not-relegated mackems’ gloating basically understandable). Leaving the ground today, listening to some Villa fans talk about cheering on Real Madrid in the Champions League final, and others dismissing Fulham as ‘shit’, it’s hard not to think, ‘I hope you sink even further, you bunch of bedsheet wankers’.
As for Fulham, they promise to be an interesting addition to next season’s EPL. I’ll wish them no harm, on condition they play nicely and either bid £15 million plus for Mitrovic, or engage in a bidding war that helps drive his price north of £20 million.
What I hadn’t expected was how much I’d drink during my Friday night post-work do, or how little I’d sleep afterwards. Worse, living in London has ruin my concept of what is a long journey- I now consider any trip by public transport above 20 minutes’ length tantamount to visiting the moon. The upshot was I reluctantly dragged my arse to the tube so late the game was about to kick off when I reached Wembley Park station. This problem was exacerbated when I failed to pay attention to the stadium map. Thus I gained my seat 10 minutes into the game having walked around roughly 75% of the stadium’s outside.
‘Iconic Wembley’ says an advertising board on the walk up to the ground- an embarrassing piece of self-regarding marketing pap in my opinion. From the outside, it’s imposing, but I find the interior devoid of grandeur. It’s just massive and functional. The PR announcer spouts corporate garbage, and it strikes me as risible that the self-styled ‘Home of football’ doesn’t trust fans to remember what the score is at the end of each half without the PA nitwit yapping it out. Mind, having previously visited for a couple of NFL games, it looks better when packed with football fans.
Both sets of supporters were in good voice early on, though Villa’s seemed louder. That was the Midland club’s only positive from the first half. They resembled a Championship team playing a Premier League team- or perhaps a team coached by a high-ranking member of the English hackocracy faced with someone whose influences are more recent than 2004. ‘Old and tired’, Jokanovic had taunted them before the game, and I’d have agreed with him if by ‘tired’ he meant overly dependent on either getting the ball out wide to ping in hopeful crosses or depending on a moment of individual magic. The likeliest to provide the latter was Jack Grealish, but he never really combined with anyone. Snodgrass had a couple of moments when he seemed to be expecting to find someone to pass to, only to look up and find no worthwhile options, perhaps because in central midfield there was merely sluggish industry. Lewis Grabban couldn’t get into the game. For John Terry, meanwhile, the game was less Nuremburg rally than Nuremburg trial- he didn’t seem able to run at all, and he produced at least four long passes that were witless in conception that didn’t land within ten yards of their intended target.
Early on, it seemed Bruce had got it into his head that the key to success was Snodgrass beating Matt Targett to headers near the opposition’s left touchline at a distance of no less than 35 yards to goal. Jokanovic had made a shrewder observation- Alan Hutton, now 33 years old, was a dry rot-infested peg clumsily pounded to fit into a very deep and probably stagnant left back hole. Maybe Villa gave Fulham too much space. Maybe Fulham earned that space by being too good for them. Though the Cottagers mainly passed with precision rather than zip, McDonald, Cairney and Johansen circulated possession in midfield. Cairney, again, was the star for me- if he has range to his passing in terms of distance, I haven’t seen it, but at this level his short pass-and-move game is splendid.
Ryan Sessegnon was struggling to make his mark, but on the right flank Kamara looked a stronger, faster, more direct threat than Floyd Ayite had seemed against Wolves. Ryan Fredericks overlapped less than on that evening, showed signs of vulnerability, and was lucky not to walk for wiping his studs on Grealish. Targett, however, was frequently a useful outlet. In the middle, Ream impressed me greatly again. Denis Odoi, who’d been mentioned pre-game as a possible weak spot, looked undersized yet abetted his team with some good passes and timely interceptions. Once more, both centre backs could count on Kevin McDonald’s capable covering on the occasions they pushed forwards.
Villa’s greatest threat seemed to come from set-pieces- the English hack’s last resort- or Fulham misplacing passes out of defence. Once such mishap led to Odoi picking up an ever so slightly ominous-looking yellow card. While Kamara hit what in real time appeared a spectacular volley over the bar, the concern for Jokanovic would have been a failure to create clear-cut chances. Happily for him, the first one that came Cairney finished it. Hearteningly, a key factor in the move was Sessegnon smartly creating space for himself and slipping a nice through ball. Another heartening factor was that while all this was happening, John Terry seemed to have been daydreaming about goose-stepping into Stamford Bridge for a reunion next season.
Still, demoralised as Villa seemed, they only went into the break a goal down. Bruce manifestly gave his men a half-time rocket. Left wing Albert Adomah was pinpointed as the man to lead the revival, and he proved to have the beating of Fredericks. Suddenly, while central midfield remained their weakness, crosses were fizzing into Fulham’s box- and the Whites were struggling to deal with them. Snodgrass missed the target. A cross flapped by Bettinelli onto Grealish’s head rebounded wide. Fulham were struggling to break out of their own half, and when Mitrovic failed to score with a header, I wondered if the forces of darkness were stirring. At times, Cairney seemed to move ahead of the ball too early, removing himself as an outlet option.
Villa’s response to the Mitrovic chance was nigh instant. Grabban hesitated when Grealish fashioned him a shooting chance. The latter was very prominent now, albeit still more an individual threat than a genuine string-puller. He slipped over when running with the ball on two or three occasions, and he received rough treatment from Jokanovic’s men too. On the hour he did something superb. Significantly, the incident began with Fulham cheaply coughing up possession rather than Villa outpassing them. Grealish latched on to the ball in the centre circle and tore upfield, bamboozling some opponents and simply scaring others. A gap opened in the penalty area, into which Grealish sped. Bettinelli, however, came off his line and saved. Two minutes later Grealish, seemingly frustrated, committed a ghastly sliding foul on Cairney that referee Anthony Taylor let off with a yellow. A couple of minutes after that, McDonald headed wide from a corner having blatantly been grabbed off his balance by the defender who’d lost him. Kamara, in the Villa penalty area, appeared to be fouled twice in the space of five seconds without a penalty award. By this stage, what sport Anthony Taylor believed he was overseeing was uncertain.
It was against this backdrop that Odoi was rightly booked again for what seemed a desperate rather than vindictive kick at Grealish amid some panic near the edge of the Cottagers’ eighteen yard box. Out came the red card, at which Villa fans who’d hitherto been undercover among Fulham supporters hit upon the brilliant idea of leaping from their seats in celebration. Cue a handful of demented Londoners throwing flags, swearing, threatening and spitting at them. And this, mark you, when their side lead.
If anything, a man advantage was a cruelty to Villa, because it gave their and Bruce’s lack of imagination nowhere to hide. From the far end of the stadium it seemed to me they had a pair of reasonable penalty shouts denied them, one for a handball, the other for a foul. Nevertheless, Bettinelli wasn’t exactly having to impersonate Gordon Banks. Kodija and Scott Hogan’s arrivals meant more blokes in need or service and fewer players to serve them, so ultimately they went to their doom in somewhat tame fashion.
Which means Steve Bruce suffers professional disappointment to add to personal tragedy. One hopes he thinks very carefully about his next move- he cuts a spent, alarmingly heavy figure, and while immersing himself in football for a distraction may appeal as a prospect, I feel he’d be best served by a restorative sabbatical from the game. After all, Villa’s parachute payments will decrease by more than half next season. Cuts and player sales will likely be the order of the day. Stress will be heaped on existing strains.
Like relegated sunderland (who I should mention in passing were relegated to League One after they lost 2-1 at home to Burton Albion having scored first), this is a club of historic standing and potential. But they’re like relegated sunderland in another way- they’ve dished it out to Newcastle United fans in the past (and without the local rivalry that made the then not-relegated mackems’ gloating basically understandable). Leaving the ground today, listening to some Villa fans talk about cheering on Real Madrid in the Champions League final, and others dismissing Fulham as ‘shit’, it’s hard not to think, ‘I hope you sink even further, you bunch of bedsheet wankers’.
As for Fulham, they promise to be an interesting addition to next season’s EPL. I’ll wish them no harm, on condition they play nicely and either bid £15 million plus for Mitrovic, or engage in a bidding war that helps drive his price north of £20 million.
sabremike
Friend To All Giraffes And Lindy Ruff
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