Half-time whistle, 2003-2004:
LET THE CAGED BIRD SING
By
Mickey Blue Eyes.

Let’s not beat around the bush, people. The first half of the season was complete cack, and unexpectedly sticky with it. It matters not that my pre-season review said of Moyesy, “…..It looks to be interesting in a rocky road sort of way……” or something similar. Hardly any of us, me included, expected the road to be strewn with so many very large boulders. The only exception I recall was Moffo during an eve of season soirée at my place. Fuelled by the Devil’s Brew, I scoffed. Moffo was right and I was wrong. Tsk tsk. But that’s life. Go around the boulders and get on with the journey.

For once the pre-season friendlies results bore some predictive reality. We lost four of them against the first relatively substantial opposition we played. I didn’t pay much attention at the time because these games are usually nothing more than exercise warm-ups. I suppose Moyesy’s intensity should have given us a more direct indication. He doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word “friendly.” Which is good for us since it is exactly what we needed to extract ourselves from the treacle of Walter Smith’s unlamented tenure. Isn’t it odd how he seems to have disappeared into our club history even faster and more successfully than Mike Walker?

Of the first six league games, we won one, drew two and lost three. The opener was an embarrassing loss to ten man Arsenal at Highbury. Losing to Arsenal is no disgrace. They are after all easily the best pure footballing side in the country. But after Sol Campbell was sent off the manner of the subsequent midfield collapse was quite disturbing. Moreover, given Moyesy’s impact, it was completely unexpected even allowing for inevitable phases of playing fortunes. In fact this aspect of our play has remained our Achilles Heel. All cohesion is lost. For seemingly no apparent reason our midfield seems to dissolve and become invisible. It happens against all manner of teams.

What makes it even more difficult to swallow is how dominant they can look when they DO play. Fulham – fourth as I write – were completely outplayed in the opening games and we really should have beaten Newcastle. The derby loss to the pinkies was never as convincing as the final score. Unfortunately such dominance barely lasts for fifteen minutes.

I have no idea why this is so. Nor do I think it caused by a single player. It seems to centre on their inability to blend, to act as a supportive combination when inevitably one or other is not up to scratch. Individually, understandable weaknesses notwithstanding, Carsley works hard and combines well with Tony Hibbert, Li Tie can pass well and is enthusiastic, Gravesen has excellent close control and can be inspirational, Linderoth tackles at least as fearsomely as anyone else in the league, McFadden dribbles brilliantly in classic Scottish style, Naysmith is no slouch, Kilbane has been a revelation and Watson scored well until his injury. All of which demonstrates the maddening caprice of human chemistry. Moyesy can increase their fitness levels, help improve their technical abilities, better deploy team formation and boost morale. But he can’t manufacture the necessary playing chemistry. Nobody can. It will only evolve if Moyes himself becomes a great manager along the lines of Harry Catterick or Howard Kendall or Alex Ferguson. After which, magic things happen if you get the breaks.

So much is mere speculation. The cold fact remains that after the opening spell we were back down in the nether regions again. Historically speaking perhaps it was an important douche of reality, perhaps it was required to prevent unrealistic expectation by everybody. Whatever, we were back in the dog fight again. And when you are up to your arse in crocodiles it is difficult to remember your first objective was to drain the swamp. We had to buckle down or we would be gone in a puff of smoke before the turn of the year.

Temporary relief arrived in the shape of successive wins over Stockport in the Carling Cup and a lamentable Leeds in the league. Seven goals were scored without reply. Star of both shows was Jamie McFadden who dribbled on our left through both defences as though they didn’t exist. He was dazzling even taking the opposition into account. For a moment we thought the corner had been turned. Then we go three matches without scoring a goal, losing 3-0 at Spurs (Spurs!) and zilch apiece with Southampton and Aston Villa. By which time the swamp of mediocrity was above our knees and rising.

A fortunate Carling Cup home win over Charlton lifted spirits before Russian gangster-owned Chelsea got an equally fortunate single goal win at The Old Lady. So, four games without a league goal. Then we lost in particularly stupid manner at Blackburn. You could almost hear the swish of the Grim Reaper’s blade. If we couldn’t beat Wolves we were in serious trouble. But they were the worst team I have seen in many years and were easily despatched. Then we went another three games without scoring a goal, including a Carling Cup exit at The Smoggies.

Up to this point Wayne Rooney hadn’t scored a goal, thus prompting the porcine liars in the media to kick off their tedious muck about his future. None of it was of any use or intended to be. Almost all of it was and is calculated to unsettle the youngster by heaping false expectation on his shoulders. Some of it was almost certainly written after money changed hands from weasel agents to weasel journalists with weasel words. No wonder so-called ordinary fans loathe the gutless bastards.

Kevin Campbell returned after injury and we promptly won our first away match at Portsmouth. The Duke equally promptly scored his first goal. No coincidence at all. Kevin is precisely the kind of senior player young Rooney needs alongside him as he develops into his own man. Duncan Ferguson can’t do it because he simply doesn’t have the kind of self-imposed professional discipline Kevin Campbell has in buckets full. Rooney also got another lesson in the realities of professional football when Steve Stone – a hardened pro of the old school – goaded him into a near sending-off. But we won and The Duke had scored and SuperKev was back. It was another start.

With Campbell and Ferguson interchanging we scored five goals in our next three games, a staccato win over Leicester, a predictable loss at Cold Trafford (those who tell you United “were there for the taking” are talking out of their arse. Their present squad is NEVER there for the taking) and a boring 1-0 win over boring Birmingham and boring Bruce. Their combined experience was and is crucial to us. I have no idea how we will replace this once they have gone. And Wayne Rooney got two more goals. Again, no coincidence. By now of course the media pigs have backed off slightly from the youngster in the face of his scoring. Hopefully before the season’s out he’ll rub their noses firmly in the sty they create. Come the Euro, freedom from injury allowing, he’s likely to dump them firmly in their own shite. I hope he does.

So it was a bad first half of the season which closed with some mildly encouraging signs.

The most encouraging aspect of all was the success of Moyesy’s signings, Nigel Martyn, Jamie McFadden and Kevin Kilbane. Only Francis Jeffers – so far – has been an outright failure, but there is still time, though not much, for him to demonstrate he has a future in the game. Martyn has filled the hole felt so acutely since the great Neville Southall retired, and has restored confidence in the fans and our defence. McFadden has already shown what a good player he can be, completely self-confident and, one hopes, willing to aquire the necessary fitness and quickness of thought required at this level. Kilbane has surprised us all with his solid determination and level of ability. At the time of writing he looks as though he has solved our wide left midfield position.

At full back, Tony Hibbert has fluctuated between outstanding and uncertain. He’s certainly better when an in form Lee Carsley is in front of him, though they had an inevitable poor game against Birmingham. His tackling and pace have greatly improved but his crossing can sometimes be woeful, a weakness it won’t be too difficult to correct if he gets pissed off enough to apply himself. Naysmith is much better at left back and I hope he manages to make it his own. He’s much closer to the form he showed before that appalling muscle split injury two seasons ago. Sandro Pistone is easily the classiest player at the club. Sadly his injury record gets no better, and if it continues to blight him the younger players will keep him out.

Our diamond in central defence is Joey Yobo, another of Moyesy’s original unsung signings. We all know this young man is potentially a great player in the making. All he lacks is the kind of absolute self-confidence shown by other young players like McFadden and Rooney. On top of his game, there’s nobody better in the league, perhaps in Europe. If Stubbsy’s pace was faster or Davey Weir wasn’t near veteran stage we would have the most formidable centre back pairing anywhere. At times like this you wish Peter Clarke had made it. Maybe he still will.

I have discussed midfield above. Apart from that, my biggest regret is that it looks as though Leon Osman isn’t going to make it at this level. I fervently hope I’m wrong. I hope too some of the young reserves can make an impact. They might well provide the cohesion we badly need and which the senior pros seemingly can’t deliver in any consistency. David Moyes has openly said he seeks talented, young, enthusiastic players who can show they can play. If they’re good enough, they’ll get their chance.

Our strikers have, as usual, been decimated by injury. Now Campbell and Ferguson are at veteran stage we cannot expect any improvement in that situation, though Kevin looks slightly better than he has for a long time. Both of them are vital to the progress of Wayne Rooney and may last long enough to get him through this difficult adolescent part of his learning curve. Thomas Radzinski continues to amaze with his pace and his complete inability to deliver a one-on-one-with-the-keeper. He continues to score superb goals and miss the easiest opportunities you have ever seen. Moreover his work rate continues to compensate for midfield weaknesses when he can.

It goes without saying David Moyes has had a chastening season. You can see it in his body language when he’s out at the dotted line – where he seems to spend less time these days. He too has endured a torrid ellipse in the learning curve. But it’s good to see it hasn’t really dented his self-confidence. Earlier, hysterical rumours abounded from the usual sources (you know, the dopey I-Know-Something-You-Don’t-Know crew) of dressing room disputes between Moyesy and one or two senior players. Personally I couldn’t give a shit whether the rumours are true or not. Moyesy is a strong character and if some of the players don’t like it they can do one, whoever they are, and that includes young Rooney. There can be only one manager. David Moyes has my support in the same manner as did Walter Smith when he summarily ejected Michael Ball, Francis Jeffers and Richard Dunne when they got too big for their boots. Shape up or ship out. No player, ever, anywhere, is bigger than the club and the manager. Any other approach invites disaster with a capital D.

None of this is to say he hasn’t made mistakes. He admits as much, as all honest men must. So what? They were honest mistakes and he’ll correct them. It remains to be seen if the guilty players are man enough to do the same. Would that our midfield players could be as honest with themselves! In the meantime, expect the rumour mongers to try to spread both lies and their obvious hysterical narcissism while the rest of us get on with the simple business of supporting the footy club we love. Just tell them to fuck off.

Like all good managers in anything David Moyes is well aware of the need for good team spirit, that there can be no real success without it, of the need to encourage full use of available talents. Witness his rapid disposal of Jesper Blomquist. Of course he can’t do the disposing immediately because it depends on contractual circumstances. But I’m willing to bet he does it when the time is right for him, as he should.

Right now the fixture list gives us problems. Not that there are easy games anymore. In that respect the game has improved dramatically.

First up, Norwich in the FA Cup at home, the greatest knock out competition in the world, the one we all love and suffer the most. Last season was probably the greatest “suffer” in our history when we lost in appalling fashion to Shrewsbury, now not even a Football League club. I say “appalling” but of course it was anything but for the Shrews, who thoroughly deserved their win. Then they were promptly thumped in the next round by Chelsea. You just can’t tell in these one-offs, the real glory of THE Cup. I have no idea of the forthcoming result and neither have you. You just have to live and die it on the day. Norwich are doing well, top of the Football League, and have just belted Derby 4-0 away from home. Anything can happen. I hope it does. I need to blow the seediness of that Birmingham game right out of my system.

In the league in the first five matches we face Arsenal, Charlton and Manchester United at home and Fulham and the pinkies away. Given our form, if we get seven points out of that lot we’ll be lucky. Anything less and we’ll be back firmly in touch with the bottom lot, if not in the bottom three.

But one of the beauties of the game is that you can never really tell, no matter how much money you spend, whatever the size of your squad and no matter how much pigshit the media manufactures.

It’s still YOUR game. And it’s game on.