The Dogs of Bore: Peterborough Report

Peterborough United 0 Grimsby Town 0
28 Dec 2003, Nationwide League Division 2

A few tried to keep the chill away by indulging in some close-knit one touch passing, but Des kept letting the side down, shinning the ball into the stands. Hey, it’s not the real thing, it doesn’t matter, it’ll be alright on the night.

Town lined up in a 4-4-2 formation, as shown. Mmm, bit of a change, eh. With Cas at right back and Young at left back, at least Town wouldn’t be dwarfed, which was lucky as that old chucker Andy Legg appeared on the pitch. Now, stroke your beards and count to three, what would the Peterborough tactics be?

Them? Out went Newton and Clarke, in came Logan and Willock, so at least that pesky Newton wasn’t going to rip us apart again.

Even the traditional beach ball tennis couldn’t warm the terrace up, nor the big balloon release. They just went straight up, up and away, never to be seen again.

1st half

Peterborough kicked off towards the very vocal Town support and within five seconds had won a corner by simply chipping the ball over the top and crossing. Edwards cleared inside the six yards box. It rapidly became clear that this was a very different Posh from the ones we’d previously played this season - hoof, hoof, hoof, welly, welly, hoof. It was like playing a third division team: passing is for wimps. Subtlety is a range of soft furnishings from Binns. The first long throw arrived direct from Luton Airport after two minutes, around the same time that Peterborough got another corner. Arber rose, Arber headed goalwards, Pouton nodded the gentle looper off the line at the left hand post. For the first five or so minutes the Poshites’ basic humpings put Town under pressure, the ball constantly arcing above the stands, swirling in the breeze and plummeting towards Davison.

Town passed the ball a few times, before someone curled it upfield to Onoura. Result: always a free kick to Peterborough. The game sank into a weary, dreary pattern. Posh hoof, Town head out for throw in. Legg hurls, Davison catches, Boulding offside/Onoura fouled. Posh welly upfield etc, etc, etc, ad infinitum, forever and ever there was a kind of hush all over the ground. Please let me out of here, it was the footballing version of being on hold listening to Richard Clayderman.

A brief respite, a moment of hope. Young bounding free down the left, skipping past a challenge, exchanging passes with Jevons, rampaging almost. A deep cross to the far post sailed over Campbell, was retrieved and....what an interesting article in the programme that is, did anything happen out there?

Just for a change, Legg hurled a long throw into the penalty area and Crane headed it clear.

Were the players as bored as us? Was one of them about to do an impression of Simon Ford and actually fall asleep whilst running? Ooh yes, Tony Crane, twice treading on the ball whilst fiddling about for no reason near the half way line. Cas saved his mate Craney with a sprint and shoulder routine, with Edwards saving Private Crane the second time. Offside, offside, Peterborough caught the same cold, with Willock proving to be Town’s best defender, clearing danger whenever it raised its tiny cold head above the wall. Willock, more a description than a name, never seeing Logan’s runs.

"That’s not the kick-off time, it’s the ticket price".
"Town didn’t even have a shot in the warm up".
"Is your hair wet or have you gelled it to keep warm?".
"Young looks like a left back today"
"You can’t park in a line of three". rpants".