View From The Dolan: Cheer Up, Steve Evans
Ben’s back with his column to chat through a late, Harvey Knibbs penalty-inspired win for Reading over Rotherham United.
I’m sorry to anyone who was let down and/or disappointed by the lack of the Dolan column and/or video for the Shrewsbury Town game. In short, I just couldn’t be bothered. Sometimes I need a break, yeah? Despite the column being a) award-winning and b) incredibly lucrative in terms of sponsorship, I just couldn’t be faffed to write words about a turgid display. So I’m sorry, I hope you forgive me and that we can move on, together.
Despite it still being offensively cold (I genuinely thought we were over this), I headed to the game on Saturday in good spirits and with a clear image in my head: that we’d be celebrating come the end of the 90 minutes, plus injury time.
As I approached the car park, I wound down my window (didn’t wind it really, as it’s electrically operated so just gently pushed the button away from me to activate the window release) and joked with the car park steward that he hadn’t been sold in the transfer window (hadn’t seen him since it closed).
Well, we both fell about laughing, him holding his insides and me leaning towards the steering wheel in a kind of gesture that said “that’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard today”. I do amaze myself with the quick humour I display at times.
Car safely secured in a parking space, I trotted off to the hotel to meet my dad and uncle and ponder which lager I’d have - before, after unnecessary debate in my head, settling as usual for Amstel. Bloody love Amstel on draught, me.
To my shock, I discovered while conversing that the Brum game next week kicks off at 12.30pm. On paper, it’s not a huge problem for me. Sure, I’ll have to rejig a busy morning and cancel some things, moving my whole game day routine forward by at least two hours, but it’s fine.
As long as Sky please those Blues fans who couldn’t get a ticket to the game and/or chat navigate their way to the Royal County so they can sit in their flats and watch Huntball, that’s fine.
The first half, in a very sparsely populated seated bowl, was attritional at best. Of course, people will look at the numerous reffing calls, but the football in general was of a low quality. It was funny to see Steve Evans almost pop, a man with an attitude like a child who has to participate in day boarding at a school that is otherwise designated as a full boarding establishment.
To pass the time, I tucked into some extra-special nuts that I was gifted. These were not just nuts: they were buffalo nuts - spicy, warm and crunchy, also from M&S. Absolutely elite snacks, I have to say.
I was still hungry and also bored at the water break, so I headed down to the concourse and was gifted yet more food (thanks dad) in the shape of a hot dog and cool, fizzy lager. What an eating day I was having!
If you need proof of the low attendances and apathy towards the club (aside from the empty seats), just look at the Dolan concourses. In previous times, you’d have to go down at least six minutes before the interval to even get in the queue. Head down there on the whistle and you’ll be standing in the toilets waiting for a pie. Not in these times, though. The queue was about five deep and that’s just sad.
Rotherham United were slightly better in the second half and got their equaliser. I guess it was coming, but the fear began to set into those around me like a person who’d ironed something before work then travelled to work and wondered if they’d turned the iron off, but couldn’t leave to check as their boss wouldn’t allow them to. We did sort of push for the winner, I guess, but both teams did a good job of cancelling each other out.
And then, on the stoke of 90 minutes, we were awarded a penalty. Another actual, physical penalty. Savage did that thing where he stared down the ‘keeper and held the ball whilst Knibbsy did his rituals. The ball was then placed and he smashed it into the net with the confidence of a forklift driver steering one-handed while smoking.
And that was crufts. A +3 for the Royals and miserable Steve Evans to boot.
My initial response was that we didn’t play brilliantly and spurned too many opportunities up top. Did that matter? Not really.
Yes, it was hard-going to watch at times but we’re at the stage of the season where performances no longer matter and results mean everything. We got a win, everyone was happy and we are still in the hunt.
Until next time.