Luton Report - Part 2

Luton Town 1 Grimsby Town 2
23 Aug 2003, Nationwide League Division 2

Howard tried to punch the ball away, but failed, and Crane trapped the falling bomblet and rolled it back to Hamilton (remember him?). Disco Des swiped a low shot towards goal, where Ford tried to spin and shoot. The ball was blocked away after a scramble. In the context of this match, that was high excitement with oodles of Latin-like skill thrown in.

Crane was booked, this time for tackling from behind and then moaning. Barnard suckered McSheffrey into a late tackle when punting up the touchline. There was a long delay as Barnard received treatment and McSheffrey was booked. Minds began to drift. Every three minutes a plane appeared over the top of the stand opposite the Town fans, regular as clockwork. Do Luton fans count aeroplanes to go to sleep? Let’s hope Simon Ford hasn’t noticed. Ford? Ford, why are they barracking Simon Ford? For a reason not readily apparent to the travelling Townites, the Luton supporters heckled Ford relentlessly. It just served to keep him awake. Apart from a few minor moments of fear down the Town right, Luton didn’t get inside the penalty area. Crowe and Cas were marginally better defensively, as Cas came back to help a few times. Not many, but a few, and Crowe snuffed out many a potential danger through his pace, rather than his perception. Crowe was up against Courtney Pitt, a loose limbed sprinter, not the loose fingered saxophonist. Pitt did get free once, after Town attacked and left gaping holes down the centre and right. Pitt hared away, alone, with Crowe and Ford in pursuit, but dragged a weak shot a yard wide from about 20 yards out. The Luton fans "oohed", but the Town fans "ahhed", for it was just not worrying. Whoops, here we go again, Crowe miss-controlled the ball on the half way line, allowing it to squirm off his thigh. McSheffrey sprinted clear, pursued by the three little bears in Town’s defence. He tried to cut inside Crane and simply ran the ball into the path of Crowe, who cleared adequately.

Ten Heuvel had rarely touched the ball, looking a forlorn figure, uncomfortable in his shoes. About 10 minutes before halftime he did touch it, hurrah! Down the right-hand side he controlled the ball with his back to goal, turned infield and passed to Anderson, about 25 yards out and just to the left of goal. ANDERSON cut back inside, feinted twice, dropped his shoulder, made a little bit of space and thwacked a tremendous low shot across the ‘keeper into the bottom right hand corner. Wahey, one touch, one goal. Now that’s the way to wake the fans up. Luton immediately pressed from the kick off, rolling the ball into the penalty area from their right. A dummy, a roll, a bundle of bodies 6 yards out. Ford felled, Crowe clambering, Cas coolly stepped across and walked the ball away from near the foot of the right hand post. Another long delay as Ford received treatment for a blow to the head and kick on the calf. His left eyebrow smeared in Vaseline, like a boxer he rose, staggering, as the Luton fans bayed at this "blatant" time wasting. His head was still attached, so why the delay?

Apart from another break away (when Ford was fouled and McSheffrey was offside) which ended with a frankly rubbish shot from the edge of the area, that was it as far as even possibilities of Luton shooting on target. They huffed and they puffed, but they didn’t get beyond the front gate. And it was only on the latch too. Ah, now Town - two more moments to savour. Campbell, about 35 yards out on the centre left, suddenly spun around in midfield and zoomed a dipping, wobbling whacker.

"Is he wearing his nephew’s shirt?".
"I was once kicked by Paul Futcher, and it bloomin’ well hurt".
"That Anderson does nothing. Apart from score.".
"Bass guitar? Is he a plucker or a slapper".
"I wanted two oranges but they’d only sell me eight for a pound."