This match against our beloved rivals could not have come at a worse time. It is blatantly unfair to ask us to compete in a local derby with Aston Villa when we haven’t played football since 12th February. That’s right folks we haven’t indulged in football after beating Liverpool 2-0, that’s one month and eight days ago. 
Ok we managed to put eleven men out in South London and Sandwell but there is no way it could ever be described as football. Steve Bruce claimed that the victory over the Scouse Reds was, in his opinion, the best since we had been in the Premiership. But within a fortnight, like the Iraqi weather, it had drifted from Sunni to Shiite.
I arrived early at the Hawthorns and was pleased to note that as opposed to St Andrews it was generally accepted by the local parking attendants that the majority of vehicles in the vicinity of the ground were there for the purpose of seeing the game and, due to the industrial rather than residential nature of the area, somewhat suspect parking was acceptable. My car was removed in the tiny backstreets of industrial Digbeth a few months ago during a home game because apparently I had taken up enough of the footpath to prevent wheelchair access on the pavement! There are always a few moments of doubt as you stare at the empty space where your car was and you wonder if you did actually park in that particular spot or whether that was the previous match?
So with the car abandoned on the central reservation a certain three points were waiting. And I don’t mean for the dodgy parking.
The atmosphere was very subdued for a local derby. Albion seemed resolved to accepting their relegation fate and we were all wondering if we could play any worse than the previous week. By God could we play worse. If we thought the Palace match was dismal and bereft of passion we were seriously misjudging the depths to which we could sink. There’s nothing wrong with defeat, as Nelson Mandela’s chiropodist used to say, but it’s the manner of the defeat which sticks in the throat.
Staying on an anatomical theme Bruce’s statement that he was ‘sick to his stomach’ by the performance in no way conveyed the depression felt by those who witnessed, and paid, to see the ninety minutes of torture. From the very start the Baggies were clearly fighting for their fans, if not their survival. It meant something to them. We had players ducking out of challenges, incapable of passing the ball five yards to an unmarked colleague and relied solely on booting the ball fifty yards to Heskey or Pandiani to flick it on to who? Not one of the midfield tried to assist the forwards thus isolating them to be marked by four Albion defenders.
All round it was as inept a display as I have seen in the Premiership by the Blues. There was one fine comedy moment though which cheered me up even if it was black humour. The introduction of Lazaridis meant that Bruce had to select out of Stanley and Gray which one had the best right foot and could move over to right midfield. His decision was probably based on who had the best left foot and Stan won the debate. This meant that the predominantly left footed Julian Gray had to play on the right wing. The sight of him running down the right touchline trying to keep the ball in play with his left foot looked like an audition for Riverdance. The Albion full back just simply waited for him to run out of play. And he did. It kind of summed the day up.
The first Albion goal was an unmarked downward header and the second one left Maik Taylor scrambling about in the back of the net like Charlton Heston in the Planet of the Apes. Good luck to the Baggies in their survival fight, I am sure we all wish our neighbours well, I just wish we hadn’t been so appeasing.
It would have to be a particularly weird run of results for the Blues to be relegated. Unfortunately for us though the teams at the bottom have decided to make a run for it and this dastardly deed may just drag us into an unwanted scrap. Fortunately there are just enough points to cover us for a bad run as long as it doesn’t go on for longer than two games. Therefore by my mathematical reasoning the losing run has finished. It has to.
Our second Sunday game on the trot has played havoc with my attendance at church; the tavern has missed my five pound. The last time we played the Villa we had again been on a dismal run but victory over them saw us embark on a four match winning streak. Remember Europe? The big question though is how long we can keep relying on the benevolence of their goalkeepers? From Enckelman’s howler to Sorenson pushing the ball into the path of Stern John and also allowing Morrison’s back pass to bounce over him, it’s been a Christmas comedy DVD laugh a minute rollercoaster bonanza.
We all know our fantastic unbeaten run against ‘the enemy’ will come to an end one day. But not yet. Please. We are having too much fun to get off the bouncy castle. The joy of the last three seasons has been unparalleled, not only have we been unbeaten but we’ve been witness to some top notch never to be forgotten comedy classics.
Aside from the entertaining goalkeepers, hopefully by now, the Midland’s answer to Delia Smith will have spouted his usual tripe and stirred up the Blues dressing room. In all seriousness our city cousins have got used to being unable to beat us. They have nothing to lose in this fixture. We are the ones who have been crowing for three years. They sit in the top half of the table and look at Europe; we sit in the bottom half and look over our shoulders. We don’t have any easy games left; we blew all the points that we had pre banked. The fight for survival starts today against Villa and hopefully Bruce will have scorched the paint work off the dressing room ceiling with a few of the recent under achievers.
I have no idea how the Blues will line up. Against the Albion when the fourth official held up the number eleven it would have been fair if the whole team had walked off. Not one of them came out of the game with any credit. Bruce could drop anyone, apart from Heskey and Pandiani, and they could have no complaints. It’s time to see what the players are made of, who has the desire and who has the ticket out the door. The players know what it means to the fans but do they know what it means to themselves. Bruce and the board cannot tolerate weakness and, in their ambition, they have to filter out those without the will to win and perform. Have faith that they will do what is right. The players have the match against the Villa to win back the respect of us blue noses and keep us smiling for another six months.
Keep Right On and remember to shout ‘bobble’ on any Villa back passes! You never know, it might just work!