Preston North End 3 - 2 Nottingham Forest
Given our form in recent weeks, I guess it's time we asked that question: Will the real Nottingham Forest please come forward and state their intent?
I feel this is a sufficiently pertinent question to ask on the back of today's showing which, for forty-five minutes at least was bang on target for crowning an extremely frustrating week, and my day today didn't exactly get off to the best of starts, what with exploding sausages and broken car springs to mop up after and deal with. Much that I enjoy the two-hour drive from Preston to Nottingham every other week, it comes as a welcome break from all the travelling I do (and I have just returned from a dry run for the trip to St James' Park later this month) to have a fixture taking place on my doorstep comes as welcome relief. Welcome to the Lancashire Red home-from-home fixture of the 2009-10 season.
The members of today's entourage have (collectively and historically) been the bringers of mixed fortunes watching The Mighty Reds: My Dad putting in his first appearance for five years, and rarely, if ever, seeing Forest actually score - not a good omen for today's fixture, although strangely not seeing us lose at Deepdale, and my girlfriend who had so far yet to see Forest concede a goal. The Forest fans seem to like coming here in their numbers, though you sometimes have to stop and ask yourself why since it's over fifty years since we last won here, and after today the wait to break that sequence will continue.
It was clear right from the start (kick-off was bang on time - if PNE can start punctually, then why can't we?) which side meant business, and unfortunately it was not the team wearing red shirts. Preston looked sharp, pacey, and hungry, and played the kind of football we struggle to compete with by denying us space and time on the ball, which in honesty was not difficult given our lack of movement in midfield. What soon set the trend for the first half was our woeful passing which usually meant a pass to a PNE player, or, more commonly a hoof in the air which brought back memories of the visit we made here six years ago during our headlong dive towards relegation, and as if there was this unwritten rule somewhere that the ball had to be played at a minimum height of seventy feet. God, clouds and grass up there spring to mind.
A Preston goal seemed only a matter of time, and so it proved in the 20th minute when Boyd, who showed nothing of the flair we saw against The Swans last Saturday, became dispossessed inside PNE's own half, which then saw a surge forward of white shirts, eventually finding that lard mountain Neil Mellor, or more preferably known as The Mellorphant Man who advanced before spotting Ross Wallace in acres of space out left after Chris Gunter was left stranded upfield. Once the ball had reached Wallace there was only one place the ball was ever going to go.
This early setback was bad enough, but the recriminations which followed were all too clear. Camp screamed at his defence which Alan Hansen would have had for breakfast had this been a Premiership fixture. But the die was cast, and what followed was a nightmare for Forest players and fans alike. It goes without saying that we were missing Paul McKenna as the midfield looked disjointed, but I feel BD had made a strategic blunder by keeping Majewski - the only other player with the capability of pulling the strings in midfield - on the bench. Instead we had a repeat performance from Lewis McGugan, whose attempts to prove himself a worthy contender for a regular starting berth were akin to Cashley Cole giving a masterclass in marriage guidance. Lazy, clumsy and slow. In short he was abysmal and must surely shoulder a large proportion of the blame for this non-creative garbage we were watching. On the rare occasions when the ball was played forward where was he? Languishing deep and no use to anyone. Equally abysmal was David McGoldrick. I've defended him for a while, especially after coming up with the winner at Swansea just before Christmas, but his attempts on goal were so weak my cat could have saved them.
Elsewhere there was a distinct lack of cohesion among the red shirts and any ball which found them was more by chance than any kind of intention, we were that poor. The noisy Forest support had been reduced to muttering which later on in the half degenerated into loud heckling as pass after pass failed to find its target.
The second goal, some ten minutes after Wallace's opener, came from a penalty after Chris Cohen was adjudged to have brought down Billy Jones in a tight challenge. I was not convinced at the time this was a penalty, though watching the TV highlights later showed it to be a little more plausible, and I suppose you could say it was time to pay the bill for the let-off we had last week. Whatever, Callum Davidson stepped up and duly sent Camp the wrong way.
Four minutes later we looked dead and buried. Preston's positional play had us chasing shadows, and Ross Wallace turned provider to set up a chance for young Matthew James coming in just on the edge of the box. A screamer of a shot into the top right-hand corner and that was enough for the PNE fans to launch into chants of 'Easy, Easy!' Have to admit it was a superb goal, and made all the more painful it's not long ago since we were scoring goals like this. Just what has gone wrong?
The rest of the half continued to be torture to watch as my phone grew hot with various messages of disbelief, whilst my girlfriend's phone also bleeped with sarcastic messages (directed at me of course) along the lines of not being allowed to come to a game with me again, although by this time I was practically shedding tears of rage at having subjected her, and my Dad to this rubbish we were seeing. Needless to say there were loud boos to accompany the half-time whistle, something we've been spared from for some time now, but this performance certainly deserved it today. I wondered how many teacups in the dressing room were not long for this world, as well as what BD was likely to unleash on his beleaguered troops. But here there was more cause for concern. During the entire first half, not once did I see BD in the technical area, instead just keeping a low profile on the bench, presumably in a massive sulk. Sure, there was plenty of heckling with chants of 'Billy, what's the score?' coming from the Pavilion stand behind him, but just because this used to be his stamping ground this doesn't mean he should try to evade their attention, surely?
Without going into detail, let's just say we were fortunate not to be more than three down, especially after that ageing journeyman Chris Sedgwick had tried to get a piece of the action by heading wide. It was a good job Jon Parkin wasn't playing today otherwise we'd be well and truly beasted. And we posed zero threat at the other end since every time we got forward we would hold the ball up long enough for the Preston defence to regroup. Whatever happened to the direct approach we used to employ, where someone would have a go?
All eyes were on the touchline at the start of the second period in anticipation of changes being made, which had an air of inevitability. The hapless McGugan was replaced by Luke Chambers, no doubt eager to build on his late winner last week, though yet again this begged the question why Radi was still staying put.
Even so, we suddenly looked a different side and started putting some passes together, and Cohen and Chambo were even getting the odd cross in, though pitching them right (along with our corner kicks) was obviously still in need of attention since most of them were plucked out of the air by Lonergan.
It was ten minutes into the second half when we were suddenly thrown a lifeline. In a reversal of fortune Billy Jones, who'd won the penalty at Cohen's expense in the first half, lunged at Cohen as he advanced into the corner of the box. Splat! As sure a penalty as you are likely to see, and once order had been restored, and checks for encroachment had been made, Dexter Blackstock calmly smacked the spot kick low past Lonergan's left.
Galvanised by this boost, we started to play really well, with some good work by Cohen and Blackstock. But more significantly, we were no longer hoofing the ball in desperation. Instead the brand of football we'd come to get used to at home was in serious danger of making a full-scale comeback as Preston showed signs of flagging. A further boost came with the arrival of Earnshaw (on for Boyd) with just over twenty to go which sent further panic among the North End ranks as the injection of pace on two fronts began to expose gaps. Eventually Blackstock's hard work paid off when he slid the ball to Earnshaw on the edge of the box who advanced before drilling the ball diagonally past Lonergan and this time the acknowledgement from the travelling support, immediately behind the goal, was total. My girlfriend, being an Earnie fan had waited for this moment, though a pity she missed him doing his trademark flip.
Game on! And if another goal was coming, it was surely Forest who would score as they pressed forward. Inevitably the tension was racked up several notches and one or two tempers began to get frayed. The Mellorphant Man, who ought to have been sent off for raising his hands in a confrontation earlier (but was not even booked) was replaced by the equally odious Richard Chaplow (who wasted no time gatting involved in a spat with Wilson), and some of the subsequent challenges were quite heavy. On one occasion Blackstock was brought down well inside the box which looked an even more convincing penalty than that awarded Jones in the first half, but the ref was having none of it, and promptly booked Blackstock for diving. Still we pressed, but despite late efforts by Chambo and Earnie, we eventually ran out of time.
Still quite a contrast to make though. An hour earlier we were saying we'd play this game until next week and not score, yet right now, given a further five or ten minutes, and we'd have been going home with, ultimately, a deserved point.
And it would have been, based in this second half performance, and BD and the boys were applauded off the field as if they had won, and the travelling fans were vocal in their support. It's just too bad they made such a mountain for them to climb with such a shockingly poor showing in the first half. Interesting to note though, the last time we lost 3-2 here was in November 2004 under Kinnear (whilst the then manager at Deepdale was none other than our very own Billy Davies) we allowed Preston to run rings round us for pretty much the whole game as we looked every bit the relegation-threatened side we ultimately proved to be, and it was two unlikely goals from Marlon King which gave the scoreline undeserved respectability. Today was different in that for the whole of the second half we turned the game into a contest and so very nearly came away with the kind of result a team currently lying in third place is well worthy of.
What I fail to get my head round however, is BD's post-match comments. The disappointment expressed over player attitude during warm-up is indeed cause for concern and something which MUST be addressed very quickly. Allow that to fester and we may as well start preparations for next season in The Championship right now and forget about even turning up for the play-offs, no matter who we get, since a place outside the top two is starting to slip away from our grasp - something we feared would happen sooner or later. But BD's comments to the fans on simply pointing out we're in third place sounds like an attempt to paper over the cracks, and these fans are all too aware of third place being no guarantee of success, as we found out in the most painful way imaginable three years ago.
On the positive side, although this represents our fifth consecutive away defeat (six if you count the cup game at St Andrews) today does show some sort of improvement in that we can at least still score goals - this is only the second time all season we've scored more than once away from home - and the way we fought back was indeed worthy of praise. My Dad's luck probably takes precedence over that of my girlfriend however, in that he's used to seeing us lose, whereas she's still used to us scoring at least twice!
Joking aside, the question asked at the start of this report still stands. Do we want promotion this season? If so, some attitude adjustment to address the fragility of the squad is needed right now, and some communication between the board and BD would'nt go amiss either.
Ref Watch: M Haywood - Some very selective decisions made - I think he and whoever denied Blackpool that penalty at The Hawthorns this afternoon must have been scrapping over a West Brom shirt.
Entertainment Value: The classic game of two halves - there was nothing remotely entertaining for us until after the break, and then we got something of a contest. First half: 0/10; second half: 7/10
Atmosphere: My girlfriend's comments at the start said it all. You could only hear the noisy Forest contingent who were as vocal as ever, and once we were silenced by PNE's three-goal salvo inside 32 minutes, only the sing-when-you're-winning brigade could be heard. Of course, a resurgent Forest stirred the travelling support who took over once more as a draw looked increasingly possible. Funny that!
Highlights: The second-half fightback sparked by Blackstock's goal from the spot; Earnie's goal which gave us hope and Forest continuing to press from then on.
Lowlights: Questions have to be asked over BD's team selection, especially with no Radi; woeful defending to cap an abysmal first half performance to make us look third from bottom, not top; the denial of a second penalty when Blackstock was brought down.
Stinker: Lewis McGugan (again!) and David McGoldrick were both extremely poor, and both need to ask themselves serious questions as to how they can stake credible claims to the starting line-up.
Stormer: Dexter Blackstock and Chris Cohen showed consistent effort throughout.
Premiership Chump Of The Week: Arsene Wenger's double standards once again rise to the top - if that penalty decision had gone against him he'd have been the first to whinge.
