18/10 Colchester Part 2

Grimsby Town 2 Colchester United 0
18 Oct 2003, Nationwide League Division 2

Nothing much came of these moments, just hints of future danger. A couple of Barnard crosses fizzed through the area, Anderson had a couple of dribbles which threatened. Almost moments. A header! Well, let me rephrase that. The ball hit Onuroa’s head. A cross from the right curled into the near post, perhaps 12 yards out. Onuroa reached the ball before the defender and firmly, and fruitily, headed 21 yards wide. After about 20 minutes (yep, 20 minutes have simply flown by haven’t they), Edwards cunningly disguised a high pass to Anderson as a comically sliced miss-kick down the touchline. Anderson controlled the ball, spun around and flipped a perfectly weighted pass further down the line. Boulding bounded on boldly where no man had gone before, reaching the ball near the corner flag and caressing a pass towards the middle of the goal. Campbell raced into a huge gap just outside the penalty area and swept a shot goalwards. Now if Colchester had stayed in their luxury B&B, snaffling a second helping of chicken and beans, then a goal may, perhaps, have resulted. Brown saved without fuss or fervour. Nice mover though. A little later a Town corner, from the right, was rolled slowly, slowly, slowly towards a spot 25 yards out in the middle of the goal. Anderson sprinted forward and sidefooted a weak shot that spun a yard or so wide of the right hand post, clutching his side as he turned away.

After about 23 minutes Edwards waited for a high ball behind a Colchester player, who backed into him. Edwards fell, clutching his head, and there was a five minute delay as he received treatment and then ran off down the players’ tunnel. The match was delayed even further as the referee insisted that the pool of blood be covered up, so we had to wait for a man and a bucket, although it looked more like a Christmas novelty biscuit tin (large family size). Something strange happened during this long, long break. The Town crowd started to chant, to sing, to get a mood going. Led by the Mighty Mariner (who, it is claimed, has a big fan somewhere in this world), geed on by Groves, a rolling rumble of noise began and hardly waned. Edwards never came back and Ford was sent on, thus ensuring Edwards could have first dibs on the choccy biscuits. Ford’s first touch was a deflection to clear the ball as a Colchester striker lurked at the far post. Town’s defence had, as usual, had a kip whilst there was a break in play and hadn’t set the alarm clock. After this moment I can’t recall Colchester getting sufficiently close to Davison to sniff his gloves. They got worse and worse as the game went on, a bit like Orson Wells, all the best bits (for them) were at the beginning.

Anderson swivelled, swayed and glided past three defenders before hitting a dipping volley into the arms of the middle aged man sat in seat N66, which, for the sake of clarity in these litigious times, was not Simon Brown, the Colchester ‘keeper. No sir, Simon Brown wore a lime green top which clashed awfully with his luminous team-mates. Why, oh, why isn’t compulsory colour co-ordination in the FIFA regulations? Getting the feeling the football was rotten? The peripherals were far more interesting than the dire dross served up. A period of Town pressure saw crosses flip in from left then right, with Anderson stealing in at the far post. He controlled the ball on his chest and laid a pass back to Barnard who steamed forward, had glorious memories of the Millennium Stadium and thwacked a rising smacker onto the underside of the Pontoon roof, which, at least, is lower than the Millennium Stadium roof.

"Your pastry’s flaking all over me".
"How come they are above us when they can barely stand up?".
"They’ve got A Gerken amongst the subs. Any other pickles?".
"Why does Groves clap when the crowd ask him to wave?".
"Iffy’s poetry in motion, isn’t he"