First of all, I’ll warn you now. This is long. Very long. And it is shite. Really, really shite. Throw your last bog
roll at the computer shite. It is also based
ONLY on games which I either attended, or watched live on the TV. So there are bound to be a few notable
misses. There is no 4-0 v Queen of the
South, no 2-1 vs Raith Rovers and no 3-0 vs St Mirren away and none of the
games against Dumbarton (because it is a shitehole) for example. There are also a few which ran the 10 close
such as McKinnon’s last game vs ICT where we played walking football, the
defeats to Arbroath and Alloa this season and the Challenge Cup game against Crusaders. No-one is going to be happy. Well, no-one is
going to be happy when they read this anyway so it doesn’t matter a fuck if
your not happy with the choices. Stay safe.
10. Dundee United 0 – 3 Morton (27/01/18)
“Where is Lyng playing?”
10. Dundee United 0 – 3 Morton (27/01/18)
“Where is Lyng playing?”
This was the question Big Richie asked about 15 minutes into
the game when we already should have been a few goals down. Emil Lyng was signed as a big striker option
as far as I am aware, but started this game playing wide on the right of a
midfield 4 despite being a) left footed b) slower than a week in jail c) devoid
of any ability to beat a man d) unable to cross the ball. Is he the worst
United player ever? He’s up there, no
doubt. However, the fact that he did actually score a goal (Alloa away win
shock!) and set one up (Aberdeen away in the cup) probably lifts him slightly
above the bracket of Walter Rojas, Julian Alsford and Keanu Marsh Brown (who
‘steals it’ as the worst player ever in the Bipolar Years imho). It is telling that already the raft of
(Darren Taylor?) signings in January had mostly slipped to the bench although
Lyng was seemingly a Laszlo signing which gave you the FEAR if he was allowed a
summer to bring in more of his own players…
An absolute shitshow from start to finish. The defending for the goals was abysmal but this
was one of those Laszlo games where we played this ultra-slow-paced style of football
passing the ball endlessly with no purpose whatsoever. It was almost walking
football. Losing Fyvie and Fraser didn’t
help, but I suspect that he’d have imposed this ‘style’ on us even if they were
still fit and playing. McKinnon’s teams did it too, particularly towards the
end. It is the most bizarre and boring style of football I have ever seen and I
would love to hear his take on why we actually tried to play like that. Well, I would if I could listen to the
rambling cunt for any more than 10 seconds. His interviews were the only things
that were worse than the football his teams played. Going to United games was a
total chore in these days, zero atmosphere, no excitement whatsoever on the
field, nothing but bad news and bad feeling off the field. It was days like this one that I would say to
my young lad that one day things WOULD turn for the better. But tbh, at this
point I’m not sure who I was trying to convince: him or me.
9. Hibs 3 – United 0 (06/01/17)
A crunch game. Live on the tv (should have known we were
fucked there and then). Big away support. We had deservedly beaten Hibs at
Tannadice and had drawn the first game at Easter Road where, after weathering a
storm got an equaliser and ended the game the stronger, if it had gone on
another 5 minutes we’d have won it. We’d been on a really good run reaching the top of the league by
Christmas only to lose first place at Dumbarton (none of the games against them
feature here because I didn’t go to any of them but I’m guessing they would
feature prominently in others horror top 10’s).
Anyway, this team seemed to do better in the big games, not games
against the diddy teams eh? We were also fielding a consistent line-up during
this run and it was clear that the players had benefited from this (it
basically went: Bell, Van Der Struijk, Durnan, Edge, Robson, Flood Telfer,
Fraser, Andreu, Obedeyi/Van der Velden/Spittal and Murray in a 4-2-3-1, pretty crap
really but it was good enough in this tinpot league and was showing a bit of
fight and grit to dig out a lot of victories with late goals).
So, what does Ray do in our biggest game of
the season? You’ve guessed it, decides to shake things up a bit. In came his bessie mate Lewis Toshney (Van
Der Struijk was injured granted), Paul Dixon, who marked his return the week before by dropping
Coll Donaldson in it as soon as he came on as sub leading to us flogging a goal
in the St Mirren game and costing us a club shut-out record, Stewart Murdoch in
midfield, who started the season average, got injured (coinciding with our best
spell of the season), came back shite then got shunted to right back because he
could cause less damage there (or so we thought). We lined up in an
indecipherable formation, it was sort of a 4-3-3 but with 3 number 10’s up
front-ish, 3 defensive midfielders with no clear instructions about who was
playing where, no width whatsoever and no cover for the full backs who were absolutely
destroyed on the night by Boyle and Humphries playing wide either side for
them. It’s harsh to say this but some
managers might have pulled Paul Dixon aside after this game and told him it was
time to hang up his boots. Christ knows
what they would have said to Toshney mind you.
However, the fact the manager completely hung them out to dry for nearly
an hour before making any changes was a disgrace. Obedeyi should have been on to cover Dixon
within 10 minutes with Fraser pulled back to right midfield to try and cover
Toshney (tbf, Fraser by this stage was starting to offer a bit more defensively
than in the relegation season). Whatever
Hibs line-up United had prepared for that night clearly wasn’t the one that
actually played in the game. We were royally pumped. Let’s face it, Hibs won the title that night,
our heads went for months after this game. I watched it in the pub with my
brother-in-law and his mate who are Aberdeen supporters and they couldn’t
believe how shite we were. They were
right. But the big frustration about this game was it was self-inflicted.
8. Utd 2 - Dunfermline 3 (04/08/18)
Sometimes the manner of a defeat trumps the actual score
line. This game was a classic example of that. I can honestly say that I have
never been so angry walking out of a football match as I was on this day. Why?
And why is it number 8 and not number 1 then? The first game of the league
season is always really exciting in my opinion.
We had signed loads of new players and I had been on holiday and missed
all bar one of the disastrous Betfred Cup games where Laszlo had in his wisdom
decided to use the games as the pre-season. I, like a lot of supporters was
sceptical about this (I was at the Alloa game where we completely dominated for
about an hour then started pissing about with the ball because it looked like
we had run out of steam and got caught, or rather Adam Barton got caught) but was willing to cut him a bit of slack given that we has so many new players
and these were now his signings. His rationale was that it would all come good
on the first day of the league season. Mike
Martin had told us all on Arabzone that he was quietly confident and they had
worked out average points targets each quarter (18). These comments in
hindsight were the most stupid ones of the entire Csambles regime (and by Christ
there was competition on that front) because it set him up for such a massive
fall when Dunfermline came flying out of the traps and we looked half asleep
for the first half before dying on our feet in the second. Why else was I so angry? Probably taking personal stuff into the game,
we went to the game straight after the young lad had played in a football
tournament for a new team (same team actually, but he’d moved up an age group
after we had been forced to take him out of his old team due to a failure to
address massive bullying issues). Now my
young lad is actually a very good footballer, he’d been a star in his previous
team but had an enforced hiatus of about 2 months which at the time we didn’t
think would be a big issue fitness-wise since he’d been back training for a few
weeks and had looked good. He’d also
taken a big stretch in height (he’s really tall for his age anyway) but at the
time we didn’t realise the toll this was taking on his body since his muscles
hadn’t caught up with his bones growing meaning he could hardly run (in fact it
looked like he had no energy whatsoever and was running with a suit of armour
on). So of course, all of this came to
bear as the young lad had a nightmare and was basically taken to the cleaners
by older, sharper and fitter laddies. His new manager, who had told me he had
high expectations for my lad kind of looked at me as if he’d been promised ‘El
Explosiviso’ and had instead been presented with Walter Rojas. I was genuinely in shock by this and was in a
stunned silence in the car as we drove from Arbroath to Dundee for the
game. I am the worst parent ever. Six
weeks later he would win the man of the match for two weeks running and
strolled it at the back Davie Narey-style with performances that had the
parents oohing and aahing at his every touch. I learned from this that the main
thing is that he is enjoying his football and as long as he is putting in the
effort and listening to what he is told by the coaches, then his performances
don’t matter all that much. He’s
actually back with his old team again and loving it. Or at least he was until
this stupid virus ended all life as we know it.
Anyway, I went to the Dunfermline game in a terrible frame
of mind hoping that United would cheer me up. Hands up who has made that
mistake? Fuck me. What we were presented with was the worst
United XI ever to grace a football pitch (maybe the Hearts game with all the
Hondurans tops it mind you when Wee Jim, you know…). After the usual blood and thunder first half
typical of the first game of a Scottish season which Nicky Clark scored in and
did a quality GIFRUY to the Pars fans in the Shed (Nicky, Sam Stanton and Jamie
Robson must’ve wondered what the fuck they had done to deserve this, especially
Sam who was stuck out wide because he was deemed to be inferior to Christophe
Rabbistch, a man who ran like he had shat himself and Adam Barton, the epitome
of a player who has it all: the looks, statuesque frame, all the gear, but is
utter shite when he goes on the park because he is petrified of getting dirty
and a hair out of place). The manner in which United wilted both physically and
mentally was frightening. Frightening
because it bore a striking resemblance to United under Jackie McNamara at the
start of the relegation season but, with a significantly worse team (Loemba,
Wardrop, Curran, Rakovan, the corpse of the Edge, fuck me, the bench that day
makes up the spine of our current team illustrating what a total imbecile Clown
Shoes actually was). I also forgot that we scored a consolation goal at the end
and only noticed when I looked at the Arab Archive for the date this morning. I may have walked out before it, I honestly
can’t remember, I was in that much of a rage. Actually, Laszlo got pelters at the end, so I didn’t leave. After the
game I wrote on Facebook (I still post opinions on this to break up the
constant stream of shite videos and birthday card pish) one word:
RELEGATION.
Make no mistake, if he’d stayed in charge that’s what would
have happened with that team.
7. Alloa 2 – 1 United (29/12/18)
A sunny December day, carry out on the train, few pints in a
boozer in Alloa, train home from Stirling delayed by over an hour so got loads
more time on the drink, Christmas so no work on Monday. If only the day could have been left at that,
it would have been a cracker of a Saturday.
But no, the proverbial good day out ruined by the football. I wish I could go to away games and just stay
in the boozer like some boys I know do.
I went to both Alloa away games that season and they were identical
apart from the final scores. We
dominated the ball but kept passing it out of the ridiculously narrow astroturf
pitch, they just played for set pieces, Dario Zanatta caused us problems both
in the air and on the deck in both games and we created very little. They seemed
to grow in belief as both games went on as we looked totally devoid of ideas
and our lack of decent width and creativity killed us in both games in a
congested midfield. It was no surprise that our goal came from a direct free
kick. Benji then flogged their equalizer by failing to come for a free kick then Watson and Murdoch just allowed Zanatta to dance past them for the winner. This game is probably most
remembered for Robbie Neilson’s post-match blast at the squad. Not quite as good as Mixu’s, “What’s the
point in fucking training?”, but give Neilson his due, he said exactly what the
fans had been thinking, both before and after this match. Robbie laid into the players saying that they
were not good enough for Dundee United and that better ones would be coming in
to replace them in January. Lovely
stuff.
Or is that what he said????
A few days later he backtracked, saying that it was the
squad players he was having a go at for not pushing the first XI resulting in
the shite performances like at Alloa. Didn’t sound like that when I watched the
interview. Confused? You should be. In fairness we’ve all been there, ranting on
social media and forums when we’re pished then regretted it next day and tried
to repair the damage. It sounded like he rightly slated the hopeless bastards
on the pitch for not being able to break down a part-time team who are,
frankly, pish and cunts for the way they narrow their utterly shite pitch. However,
seven players in the 18 that day actually started this season in our squad. Sorry
Robbie, but if you are going to throw the players under a bus, you’ve got to
see it through.
TBH, I could have filled this top 10 just with games against
Alloa and Dumbarton. That’s fucking depressing. I still didn’t sing, “Same old
Alloa, always cheating,” though so I, and United, have still got some dignity
intact.
6. Falkirk 3-0 Dundee United (11/02/17)
People might look at this one as a bit of a strange choice,
especially so high up in the pecking order. However, ask anyone who was at this
game (me and the wee man went through on the premise that it is an easy drive
and was during the holidays) and they will tell you that it was an absolute
disgrace of a performance. It was also
the game where, not only did our chances of winning the league completely
disappear, but our chances of finishing second looked to have gone as
well. We looked miles behind Falkirk and
would likely have to navigate an extra two games before getting a
hiding off them in the semis on this evidence. It is probably forgotten by many
that if our away form that season had even been average that we would have WON
the league, because our home form was so good.
But this was a typical McKinnon away performance. Timid, slow-paced, negative,
hoping for one break to nick a 1-0. This
never changed all season until the second half in the play-off semi and even
then, he reverted back to type the following season. Grim to watch given that the size of our away
support was incredibly strong. Unlike
the 6-1 game, we didn’t even have the excuse of injures and loads of new
signings either. It was one-way traffic for the entire 90 minutes and United
offered absolutely nothing in attack. Not even the addition of flying winger
Alex Nicholls (McKinnon had been tracking him all season honest,
hahahahahahahahhahahahahhhaha) could make a difference. Why not?
Maybe because he was shite and kept dribbling the ball out of the park
on the left-hand side. A shite referee didn’t help matters as Blair Spittal was
assaulted, didn’t get a free kick, had to go off for treatment, then they
scored the opener when we were down to 10 men.
But it wouldn’t have made any difference we were heading for a hammering
anyway. Imagine getting run ragged by
John Baird. I remember the days when we
used to rip the pish out of the Funsters for signing him. I would also add that
thon Falkirk Stadium is fucking freezing. So cold in fact that we left when the
3rd went in only to realise that our car was boxed-in in their car park
which meant we had to sit for about 30 minutes in the car unable to move, still
freezing.
5. Dundee United 0-2 East Fife (23/07/19)
Ah, the game which inspired this blog. Has my opinion on this
one changed with the benefit of time?
Not one bit. I stick with everything I said the day after this one. It was a complete and utter embarrassment. From the Watson-Reynolds game of, “To me-to
you,” which took up a large part of the match, to players like Callum Butcher
looking totally disinterested, to Scott Banks shitting it every time Stewart
Murdoch went near him (fucking rat obviously wanting to avoid injury before his
big move), the Robson for Sporle substitution when we were a goal down and McMullan
crossing every single ball into an empty Shed then Eddie Thompson Stand in each
half. Only one team showed any urgency
in this one and it wasn’t us. It
worryingly showed Robbie Neilson up as we struggled with East Fife’s narrow
diamond formation and pulled Nicky Clark deeper and deeper to try and match up
in midfield leaving Shankland totally isolated save for aimless punts from
Reynolds. This game also led to my
Twitter barney with Jim Spence that night as I bemoaned Scottish journalist’s
reluctance to call out managers about shite tactics and playing styles. The
Inverness performance in the league a fortnight later was everything this
performance was not: fast, direct, aggressive, playing to Shankland’s
strengths. Who knows what made the difference?
(not me) It did appear by the end of the East Fife game that Robbie was
doing what Csaba had the season before in using these games as an extended
pre-season and if we got through, it was a bonus. I wish they’d actually let
punters know that’s what they were planning, so we could respond accordingly
and not bother our arse wasting money going to the game. At least Robbie never
made any, “It’ll be alright on the night,” promises before that first league
game mind you. I’ll tell you what though, if we’d lost that ICT game I think
the calls for his head (which were growing here) would have reached a
crescendo.
4. Dundee United 2-3 Livingston (07/05/18)
I did a rough draft of the list a few days ago and this one
was actually sitting at number 10 but I decided to move it higher up, not so
much because of the performance, which actually wasn’t that bad (in fact for
about an hour it was pretty good) but because it symbolised everything the
Banter Years was about. This one can be blamed on one man: Csaba Laszlo. His decision to put Lyng on for
Billy King wide left at a point when they were starting to grow into a game was
madness, pure and simple. I don’t have a
problem with us making a subbie to try and kill the game off which I think this
was, but to put on a boy that was rank rotten, in a position he had never
played in since signing (he’d always either played wide right or up front) was
bonkers especially when Paul McMullan was sitting on the bench and would have
been much more aware of what that role would entail. Lyng of course, lost his man immediately and
we lost the equaliser. United then lost
their heads. Murdoch who had been
immaculate until that point (as had the whole team tbh, we played Livingston
who were a major physical threat, as well as anyone had that season) then flogs
the second and of course Willo Flood then gets totally sucked in by their
gamesmanship and also gets himself sent off.
Not before a truly great Banter Years classic as he gives Csaba a
mouthful as he walks past the dugout clearly calling him a hopeless bastard
(true) then having a go at the BT camera and pushing it away as he walks down
the track. IMHO Laszlo should have been
sacked there and then at the end of this one.
He certainly should have gone after the second leg. For Martin not to punt him and actually give
him another transfer window beggared belief. It really did appear that Csaba
had suckered those in the hierarchy at Tannadice. When the young lad was selected as the Young
Arabs mascot a board member talked to us before the game and spoke
enthusiastically about how much detail Csaba put into planning and his tactics
for every game and how he would come good once he got rid of the many ‘bad
apples’ in the dressing room. This was
before the Dunfermline game where we drew 1-1 coming a few days after we had
been beaten by Queen of the South at home.
When I pointed out that in the Queens game he had moved Stewart Murdoch
into midfield for the first time in a year even though he had Craig Slater and
Grant Gillespie sitting on the bench, both of whom he had actually signed which
didn’t say much for his managerial acumen, this was met with a decidedly
fluffed response as the boy about choked on his falsers. One actually wonders
about the qualifications of the people making managerial appointments at professional
football clubs.
3. Dundee United 0-5 Ayr United
This was number 1 in my rough draft. In fact, I’ve toyed
with each of the next 3 games as 1st, 2nd and 3rd
and to be honest they are all so bad, they would be worthy winners. Three absolute hidings, all shambolic in
their own way and all totally unacceptable for Dundee United Football Club. In
the end, I have went for this as number 3 because, at some point, you have to
give credit to the opposition. Having seen
Lawrence Shankland close up this season, I have to hold my hands up on this one
and admit that as bad as we were, Ayr’s
performance in general and Shankland’s performance in particular on the night
were just too much for us to handle. In
fact, Ayr’s performance was by far the best I have seen at Tannadice in the
past 5 years (and I include a couple of Celtic games in that). They passed us off the park, physically
bullied us, were cynical every time we made any forward moves and the supply of
balls they put into Shankland was miles better than anything we’ve given him
this season (a source of major frustration for all of us I’m sure and going by
his body language post New Year, for him as well). That said however, it really
doesn’t excuse United who clearly didn’t see this coming and were MILES off it
on the night. Another live tv embarrassment of course.
We went into this one on a real high. Laszlo had gone, we’d been on a great run of 7
games unbeaten, were playing high-tempo pressing football for the most part
(Robbie?), had survived an onslaught up at Dingwall and were starting to close
the gap to the top of the league and you could sense the belief and enjoyment
which had completely drained out of most of the support was starting to
return. This was all being done with the
players Robbie Neilson had inherited too albeit with a few tweaks: Paul
McMullan had returned from the cold and was playing well as a number 10, Paul
Watson was playing at right back, Fraser Fyvie was back playing again alongside
Sam Stanton in midfield replacing the worst comedy double act since Chris
Moyles and ‘Comedy’ Dave in Barton and Rabbitsch and finally Benji Siegrist was
now in goal in place of the utterly hopeless Matej Rakovan. William Edgenguele had also been experiencing
a renaissance of sorts and was keeping Freddy Frans out of the team and Pavol
Safranko was basically scoring the same goal every week getting on the end of
crosses from deep from Fraser Aird who for a few months had decided to take a
break from being a lazy waste of space and a Hun bastard to show that there was
potentially a footballer in there somewhere. As I was leaving work on the
Friday, I had a blether with Mark who is a Dundee fan but is also a great lad
who takes a much more measured approach than the average bluenose. He asked how I thought the match was going to
go and unusually, I said we’d win without any hesitation. In fact, I thought
tonight was the night we were going to put on a show and rattle in a few
goals. After all, we had the best
striker in the league in Pavol.
There is a reason why I don’t gamble, put football coupons
on, do predictors or fantasy football competitions.
The horrors of this game just kept unfolding from the moment
it kicked off:
- The Edge’s comical efforts at their first goal. Ably backed up by Callum Booth just standing watching Edge looking like a 100 year-old man trying to jump for a header and not noticing Shankland who had peeled off Edge. The Edge’s time at United could be summed up in two words: likeable and limited. This match added a new word to his description though: finished.
- Paul Watson getting roasted at right back by McDaid. I don’t think I have ever shouted, “Get a fuckin tackle in,” so much in my life. Meanwhile, Fraser Aird just stood and watched Watson getting the piss royally ripped out of him by a combination of McDaid and Harvie and never once thought to maybe like, you know, help him? Keeping himself match fit for a big Orange Walk the next day maybe? Who knows.
- Benji getting injured then practically springing to his feet and sprinting off like he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Hmmm. Of course, his replacement being utter shite didn’t help and he flogged at least one of the goals in the second half.
- Sadly, Fraser Fyvie looking so far off the pace that it was clear that there was no way back for him. He’d done well on his return up to this point against teams who all appeared to be a bit in awe of him and stood off for the most part, allowing him to dictate play. Ayr on the other hand, got right into his face, pressed him non-stop and when they started crashing into tackles in there it was clear that Fyvie was bricking it at the prospect of hurting himself again. I take no pleasure in writing this btw. Could you imagine the pre-injury Fyvie of two years ago playing alongside Callum Butcher? Oh ya fucker. Life is a cruel, twisted bastard sometimes.
- We left after number 3 and didn’t even know it was 5 until we got back to Forfar and the wife told us when we got in. I had turned the radio off in the car when the 4th went in.
Lawrence Shankland looked destined for bigger and better
things. Surely he’d be gone by January at least? If only we’d had the chance to
sign him for peanuts when he’d been knocking about loan spells and was unwanted
by Aberdeen. I have no doubt that if McKinnon, Ellis and Taylor had got him in during the pre-season, saw past his overweight frame and
looked at his movement and finishing they’d have been in no doubt that he was a
better option than Patrick N’Koyi?
Surely? …..
2. Dundee United 1 – 5 Ross County (29/09/18)
The only reason this is not number one is because at least
some good came out of it in the sense that the hopeless cunt was punted after
it. I also went to see an old friend for the last time after it and don’t want
to sully his good name by associating the great night I had after the game
seeing him in the company of a great group of friends at his house with this
utter shitshow.
Other than that, fill yer boots. Loemba missing a sitter in
the first couple of minutes. Fraser Aird
at right back for some reason. Rakovan
still in the goal. Rabbitsch still being allowed on the hallowed turf at
Tannadice (Bizarrely, he did a bit of skill early on in this game that turned 3
of their players inside out. Weird, it was as good a turn as I’ve seen at a
match). Bouhenna was playing alongside him in midfield I think. Tbh it’s all a blur. Laszlo was still trying this bizarre system
where Bouhenna was dropping into the centre of a back 3 whilst the full backs
were stepping into central midfield (???) whilst Rabbistch was stepping on one
and fuck knows what Loemba and McMullan (restored to the team from nowhere and
looking completely out of sorts, shades of when Mixu played Erskine in the
Scottish Cup semi when he hadn’t kicked a ball since New Years day, it had the
same results) were supposed to be doing in this system. We were still trying to
play at walking pace as well. Pavol did give us some sort of false hope scoring
an equaliser from a deep cross from Aird.
We were carved open at will in this game and it was so easy for Ross
County it was embarrassing. To cap it
all Stewart Murdoch came on as a sub and immediately stamped on one of their players
and was sent off. Was this a record for shortest time on the pitch at a United
match before a red card? We could actually hear the boos and abuse at Laszlo as
we got to the junction of Sandeman Street and the Provie Road. United fans
rightly slag Bluenoses for the two 6-2 games because they were total humpings
for them. However, results like this
one, the Ayr game and the one coming up next are a FAR greater source of
embarrassment for a Dundee United fan than them suffering 6-2 pumpings from us
in my opinion.
1. Falkirk 6 – 1 Dundee United (06/01/18)
After a lot of deliberation, I went for this as the worst. Initially I wasn’t going to go for this because
I felt that it was a makeshift team with a combination of a lot of new players
along with several injuries which could be used as an excuse for the performance
and result whereas this excuse couldn’t be used for the previous two games. But
ultimately let’s be honest. This was absolute fucking shite. Once again, this
game took place during the Christmas holidays so I said to the young lad that we
should go through. Normally he’d be right up for this but there was clear reluctance
on his part. The memory of the previous season’s hiding at Falkirk was still at
the forefront of his mind. I on the other hand was thinking about how my last
trip to the Falkirk Stadium was the magic 2-1 win in the play-off second leg
(he hadn’t gone) and also the 3-0 win over Falkirk in Laszlo’s first game. Falkirk were really struggling so I hypothesised
that with all our new players that we should be going there confident of a win.
I should listen to Alex more often.
In the previous game we had beaten Brechin comfortably at Tannadice
but had a very depleted look about us by the end of the game. Fyvie and Fraser were out long-term, Stewart
Murdoch and Mark Durnan went off injured (in fact I think Durnan may have
already been out) and Paul McMullan had been stupidly sent off for diving. However, we had brought on Cammy Ballantyne
in the second half at right back and he’d had a decent game (after being
recalled from Montrose where he’d been a stand-out performer), Paul Quinn had
been stumbling through games without looking particularly convincing but also
not being totally exposed either, James Keatings had a decent game and scored
a confidence boosting goal against Brechin whilst Matty Smith could fill-in for
McMullan so we could still put out an XI that had enough experience and quality
to beat a shite Falkirk side. We would also have a bench full of boys who were
newly signed and would hopefully come on in the second half and be keen to
impress eh? We’d signed Brandon Mason, a
left back with first team experience at Watford which on paper sounded great
since Jamie Robson was still inconsistent at best, Craig Slater who had been a
decent goalscoring midfielder for Kilmarnock and Emil Lyng, a 6ft 1 striker,
something we had been crying out for.
Personally I would have lined up with:
GK Lewis
RB Ballantyne
CH Quinn
CH Scobbie
LB Robson
CM Flood
CM Stanton
RW M. Smith
N 10 Keatings
LW King
ST McDonald
What did we actually line up with?
GK Lewis
RB Robson (left footed right back)
CH Quinn
CH Scobbie
LB Mason (Thrown straight in)
CM Flood
CM Slater (Hadn’t played for a few months)
RW Keatings (left-footed striker / number 10 at right
midfield, out of position and devoid of confidence)
N 10 Stanton
LW King
ST McDonald
The team selection was mental for so many different reasons
i) the new players had all just signed within a day or two of the game, clearly
there had not been enough time to work on the shape, especially one where the entire
right side featured boys playing out of position ii) they all lacked match fitness/sharpness
iii) Teams sitting second in the league don’t normally throw untested new boys straight
in to an away game unless they have plenty experience. This was not Butcher,
Pawlett, Cammy Smith, Reynolds and Connolly here. iv) I have always got a sense
that the Falkirk Stadium is a quite an intimidating venue. Any games I have seen us play there we have
always looked quite nervous and they always start fast and their supporters
really get behind them. If you lose a goal
early, they smell blood. This was not a day for experimental formations with
loads of new players lacking match fitness. It all had earie parallels to Craig
Brewster’s last desperate throw of the dice back in 2006, which I also attended. Even worse scoreline too.
Incredibly we somehow took the lead with a cracker even
though we should have been 2-0 down after the first 10 minutes in a match with
resembled a game of shootie-in at times as Robson was targeted immediately and
struggled badly, Quinn had an absolute nightmare (clearly intimidated by the
ghosts of the past like Crawford Baptie and Yogi Hughes), Harry Lewis was shitting
himself every time a ball was crossed into the box, the boy Mason looked slower
than a week in jail and seemed to stand virtually on the touchline to avoid Tam
Scobbie shouting at him. Scobbie looked
like a rabbit in the headlights trying to cover for everyone around him. Unfortunately, Willo Flood took it upon
himself to repeatedly drop back in between the centre-halves (another Laszlo
tactical special) to take the ball, carry it 5 yards under no pressure, then
turn around and simply pass the ball back to the defenders. He also for some reason tried to win a header
that was clearly Quinn’s only to succeed in heading it straight to their player
who duly scored. Meanwhile, James Keatings was having to drop so deep that at
times he was actually standing beside Robson and Flood. The shambles to end all
shambles. Slater was posted missing in midfield and the rest just looked like
they wanted to give up by half time. It was without doubt the most chaotic and
shambolic 90 minutes of football at any level I have ever seen. The worst thing about it was that Falkirk were
shite. The second half was just as bad as we put on subbies to no effect whatsoever. I stuck around to see the big striker come on
only to leave after his first act was to dribble the ball and then sclaf a shot
so limply that the keeper had to actually run out to pick it up because it stopped
rolling. We left at number 5. A lot of
people had sympathy for Laszlo after watching his post-match interview where he
was almost in tears. Up until the St Mirren
game we had done well and he had lost his best two players with injuries. I was
one who wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. However, in hindsight I
now agree with the punters who said he should have been sacked after this game. This, as it turned out was no freak result,
in fact it was a sign of things to come.
And did I mention that it is fucking freezing at the Falkirk
Stadium? Driving away from Grangemouth Alex said to me, “Dad, can we not come
here again next season?” Wise words son.
Dundee United FC. The Banter Years.
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