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Arlene Finnigan

So drink, drink, drink and be ill tonight

Well. That was utterly fucking shit, wasn’t it. Easter ruined. Birthday ruined. Fuck off, Oldham.


The first half performance against Fylde was shockingly bad. I expected the atmosphere to be toxic at half time, but it felt like everyone was just stunned. The defending for all three of their goals was the worst I’ve ever seen from us, and I saw Sonhy Sefil’s masterclass at centre half when we lost 3-0 at Bradford in 2019. We allowed their player to almost stroll 50 yards down the middle of the pitch before passing it to Haughton to open the scoring 9 minutes in. The defending from the corner that led to the second goal was awful, with Norwood practically providing an assist. It was yet another goal from a set piece – this time a free kick – to put us 3-0 down after just over half an hour. At home. To Fylde. I’m not a fan of people booing and getting on the players’ backs during the game – I don’t think it ever makes anyone play better – but when people started singing “this is embarrassing”…. Well they weren’t fucking wrong, were they?


It was a cracking shot from Gardner to score and give us a sliver of hope just before HT. In the second half, the referee decided to take the heat off the players by becoming the pantomime villain. Bringing on Fondop to give us more aggression and more of an attacking threat was what most of us were hoping for. He’s God’s number 9, but it was Good Friday, when we remember God forsaking his son. Having won a 50-50 ball and being wiped out by a Fylde player, Mikey was somewhat surprised when he finally got up to find that not only had the foul been given against him, but he’d been sent off. Mellon branded the decision a ‘disgrace’, and it wasn’t even the referee’s biggest fuck up. The Fylde keeper handled the ball a good 10 yards outside the penalty area, and nothing was given.


None of which was the reason for our painful humiliating loss. The referee was shit, but we were far worse. And I missed St Helens beating Wigan to watch it. FML.


The Easter weekend was suitably bookended by another soul crushing defeat, at a ground named after a scrap metal merchants with emergency exits made out of wood, which we got to watch (or not so much if you’re 5ft 1) in the pissing rain on an uncovered terrace. It was a better performance (it fucking had to be), but what a soft goal to concede, and it was nowhere near good enough.


It’s so, so gutting how badly the wheels have fallen off our promotion push. I genuinely don’t get how badly this group of players, under this manager, are performing. How can we be struggling so much to score with the strikers we’ve got? With Garner being ill and Fondop suspended (and Norwood looked like he was holding him hamstring towards the end on Monday), is Mellon not cutting off his nose to spite his face by continuing to freeze out Reid? What exactly is Conlon supposed to be? We were told he was a set piece specialist, but he wasn’t taking the free kicks on Monday.


In answer to my recurring question “WHERE THE FUCK IS SACHDEV?”, apparently he’s not playing because he’s a wing back and that’s not the system we’re playing. O……K, I guess? Was McGahey really a better option at right back than Sachdev? Isn’t Kitching playing as a wing back?


We cannot play against Rochdale like we played against Fylde. We can-fucking-not. I will go full John Sheridan if we do. “I WON’T BE GETTING ANY BIRTHDAY FUCKING PROSECCO BECAUSE OF FUCKING YOU!” Please don’t fuck this up, lads. Please.


KTMFF.


📷 Ryan Hamer


Written by Arlene Finnigan

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