Hope Springs Eternal, until it doesn't…

This topic contains 1 reply, has 2 voices, and was last updated by  sarky parky 2 years, 11 months ago.

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  • #1946408

    derwentd
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    Phew…watching yesterday’s game was painful, proving my oft stated point that you are only as good as your opponents allow you to be.

    Both Chelsea and Southampton applied no pressure and let our guys do their thing, and the results spoke for themselves. Leicester did exactly what they did on the opening day of the season. They watched Albion buzz around for ten minutes then put the hammer down. And thereafter it seemed that our guys were always a yard shy and a dollar short. And whenever they did get the ball they gave it straight back to an opponent. It was a harsh reminder of our limitations, and it’s a long time since I cannot name one single player in an Albion shirt who did anything right. I felt sorry for Johnstone.

    Playing like that we would not beat a pub side. Just when the fat lady was sitting down, she has had second thoughts. Big Sam is running out of time…and my hopes are diving rather than springing.

    #1946443

    sarky parky
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    That was an unexpected return to the bad old days, just after Allardyce took over and teams were scoring aginst us at will. Yokusnu and ABM followed the Livermore/Sawyers songbook and suddenly as of old we had no midfield. In the first five minutes Iheanacho found himelf clear of our stranded defence and ran forty yards before Johnstone managed to stear him wide and the chance had gone. Leicester needn’t have worried as others followed thick and fast. Somehow we held out for twenty minutes or so during which time Diagne managed an air shot six yards from goal in our only concerted move of the game. Then Leicester did what they had been threatening to do and scored three goals in 12 minutes.
    The marking was atrocious.Fist Vardy received the ball ten yeards from goal with not a defender in sight. Then Evans was totally unmarked when a corner reached his head. And thirdly Iheanacho was eight yards out in a crowded penalty area and still had time to get the ball from under his feet and take a touch before burying it. Leicester then strolled through the second half and we hardly laid a glove on them. As one reporter said it was Champions’ League versus Championship. Summed it up nicely, if depressingly. And hope disappeared with the referee’s whistle and the last chords of the fat lady.

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