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13/03 Bournemouth 2nd Half

By: Tony Butcher
Date: 14/03/2004

NO changes were made by either team at half time. Town started a bit better than they had in the first, pressing early, but (there’s always a but) giving the ball away.

Home > 2003-2004 Season > Reports > Bournemouth (h)

Grimsby Town 1 Bournemouth 1
13 Mar 2004, Nationwide League Division 2

Coldicott, about 25 yards, rolled the ball to Rowan, who didn’t move and allowed a defender to step in front of him and stroll upfield.

Off they went, at speed, with Town players all out of position. Onwards, upwards, closer still, into the penalty area. Their attacker, on their right, cut infield and hit a low shot across Fettis, who punched the ball across the face of goal and out for a corner. Darn good save. Back came Town with a flick and trick, Rowan-Jevons, Rowan free down the right, into the area, to the bye-line. The boy who Town forgot looked up, saw the boots that Town remembered unmarked at the far post and carefully dinked a cross over the ’keeper and a couple of feet behind Jevons, just five yards out. A defender swept the ball away for a corner. Grrr, frustrating. Barnard clipped the corner in, Bournemouth broke away, down their left. Cummings cutting inside whoever was the last Town player and hit a very soft shot straight at Fettis’ feet from the edge of the area when passing to his unmarked chums would have been better.

The next 40 minutes were rubbish.

About 10 or so minutes into the half Coldicott was replaced by Ducking Des Hamilton, or at least that’s what I think the Pontoonites called him. The rest writes itself, doesn’t it. There were moments when Lady De Hamilton almost touched the ball. The crowd began to rumble in anticipation as the ball approached his shining pate, but then "aahhhed" in disappointment. So near, yet so far. Almost, one day, it’ll happen.

Minutes passed, unlike Town.

Tic-tic-tic. What a lovely rainbow. Still 25 minutes left.

Bournemouth got a corner. Nothing happened. Do you remember football?

Why don’t you go away and make a coffee? Or perhaps browse the internet for an interesting article on mudflats. I understand those around the docks are an important source of invertebrates, food for migrating birds. So that’s what happened to Kevin Donovan, buried outside the docks. Or perhaps a feisty sparrow hawk ate him.

Ah, something to talk about. Fettis racing off his line to snaffle the ball away from Norman Stanley Fletcher’s boot. Town? Nope. I won’t dignify Jevons’ attempted volley from 35 yards with a description. It rolled 23 yards wide of the right post. Armstrong, a barnstorming run down the left, and then a terrible, weak cross that troubled the worms underneath the photographers’ stools. Yeah, that’s Town.

With eighteen minutes left Bournemouth won possession on their right, under the Stones/Smiths/Findus stand, just inside the Town half. Jevons stuck out a foot and the attempted loft down the line looped up slowly. A little dark haired chap let the ball bounce once and volleyed a back-heel flick inside to the full back. Jevons stopped running after the full back, who surged onto the pass. Armstrong pursued and won a tackle inside the penalty area, merely diverting the ball towards goal, straight to big Norm, who turned Young and flashed a cross through the six yards box. WARHURST stuck out an experienced premiership leg and expertly, clinically, smacked the ball past Fettis. Ooh dear. See that copy book, it’s got a blot on it. Well, the ball could have gone anywhere and defenders shouldn’t let the ball go unimpeded through the 6 yards box, should they.

Youngyellow card
Armstrongyellow card
Thorringtonyellow card
Campbellyellow card
Rowangoalyellow card


Hockless82 mins
Hamilton58 mins
Mansaram76 mins


Trevor Parkes


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Same old Town, concede one, concede another. Almost straight from the kick off Bournemouth got the ball back and tore Town apart down the centre and right. Fletcher was free, inside the area and slashed what may have been a shot, but was more like a cross, through the middle. Two Bournemouth payers were unmarked at the far post, just yards out. Hayter stopped and diverted the ball goalwards. Sigh, here it is. No! Fettis swivelled and leapt to his left, groping towards the ball as it looped behind him and clawing it away from the line. Magnificent save and one that we have a sneaking suspicion Davison wouldn’t have made.

Take a little snooze. And when you return you’ll find Mansaram on the pitch, having replaced the shimmering mirage that was Rowan with 15 minutes left. What good will that do? Mansaram did turn his marker once down near the left bye-line and hit a cross through the six yards box. Too high, too far. Too Mansaram. He just kept getting in the way, slowing down breakaways. But he wasn’t booed this time.

Ah, so it’s now is it? Young challenged Big Norm. Big Norm fell, the ref remembered it was his personal mission to book every player. The free kick, out on their right, about 25 yards out, was lofted to the far post. A flick header on and the other Fletcher, Carl, was unmarked about a dozen yards out. He leant to his left and smacked a perfect right-footed volley across the face of goal and...wide. At around this time Hockless replaced Thorrington, who had just given possession away, then been crocked. No time for the little pixie to weave his spells. Where Thorrington has pace, Hockless has guile and cunning. They are both tiny tots, though Hockless falls over less. It’s a mystery why we got one, when we already had the other.

Five minutes from the end a great cheer went up, Hamilton won the ball in a tackle. However, I don’t believe it happened. It was behind a post, so I didn’t see it. I think that the crowd were just having a laugh. It couldn’t happen, it defies logic and the evidence accumulated over the last eight months. The Royal Society would laugh you off stage if you presented a paper to them. A couple of minutes later Ducking Des turned and passed the ball towards Edwards. Why tell you such ordinary tales of nothingness? Hamilton was on the half way line a few yards infield. Edwards no more than five yards from him, both unhindered by blue stockings. Dreadful Des managed to pass the ball straight out of play about three yards behind Edwards who looked, shall we say, surprised. One more thing to log on the Deswatch - Law furiously ticked off Hamilton when he dithered and dathered in passing. Hamilton just shrugged his shoulders as if to say "what can I do". We know the answer to that.

I saw Stuart Campbell again. Through very powerful binoculars.

The last moments were taken up with a Town corner headed goalwards by Warhurst but blocked near the penalty spot, followed by a substitution by Bournemouth. The game was ended about 3 seconds after the substitute came on. The crowd sort of booed, but just trudged out silently, not enamoured by the offerings placed before us. Stodgy porridge will do only in the most extreme of emergencies.

It was a horrible thing to observe, life draining away from club and fans alike. The tide is going out slowly. In the context of this match, Bournemouth deserved the draw more than Town, but neither team really did enough to get three points. Perhaps ½ each would have been fair, as both were equally bereft of that indefinable thing we all crave - quality. Bournemouth were better organised going forward, but then again they weren’t thrown together over the cornflakes. Briefly in the second half Jevons appeared to be returning to his form of a couple of weeks ago, when he drifted out to the left and back towards midfield, exploiting the spaces and running at defenders. But that was a very brief period. The smallest pebble in the glacial tosh. The cold truth is that the Bournemouth ‘keeper didn’t make one save, and Town never looked likely to make him do so. The Town goal was almost an accident.

The Town defence looked adequate, being full of people who can tackle and mark, those extravagances that pass the urban spaceman and the psychopath by. Let’s ignore the midfield, which collapsed once Coldicott walked off. Perhaps Law will put 4 centre backs in midfield too when suspensions are lifted and injuries healed? Whither football?

Nicko’s Man of the Match

It can be any of the defence. Fettis looked fine, making two excellent saves which got Town a point. Young looked solid, doing what he was told by wise old Warhurst, who would have been the selection had he not scored a cracking own goal. Armstrong and Edwards are the finalists. Who? Which one, who will blink first? Ah, Mike Edwards, for being out of position and still his usual assured self. He kicked the ball out of touch less than Armstrong, and on such small things mountains are moved and greatness is bestowed. Well, acceptability anyway.

Official Warning

T Parks. Barely credible, the man wasn’t biased towards either team, just rubbish. He seemed intent on booking everyone, was extremely arbitrary in his decision making, but consistent in his wackiness. If a things worth doing it’s worth doing badly seemed to be his motto. Did someone have words with him at half time? He seemed to be less of a flasher in round two. His officiating destroyed a bad game. He gets 2.341, simply because he failed to find an excuse to abandon the game and force us to endure a second load of turgid drossitity

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