Tag Archives: Mo Salah

Just about the best Saturday imaginable. This time, it WAS dreamland for Brentford.

26 Sep

Sunday morning. Quite possibly the greatest game of football I’ve ever seen our Brentford play about to be rewatched for the third or fourth time on Match Of The Day. A 3-3 draw with Liverpool washed down with what can only be termed ‘JJ levels of lager’. An afternoon followed up by watching popular music’s Ash blow the roof off the Camden Roundhouse in a style akin to that which Thomas Frank’s Bees had done at Lionel Road just a few hours earlier. The price for such excess being a sore head and a smile like a split watermelon. There aren’t sufficient words to truly describe how good Brentford were. And Liverpool, to be fair. Wave after wave of Mcdonalds’ shirt clad warriors trading goals and attacks in a game of football tennis. Federer v Djokovic at their very best. Each attack met with an even stronger return. A blitzkrieg affair that hung precariously in the balance, tested our nerves to the nth degree and even saw an 87th minute ‘winner’ for Ivan Toney ruled out for marginal offside. We can’t be upset. Quite the opposite. Well, it would have been the most amazing win for Brentford but you can’t have it all. As popular music’s Ash once sang. Last night, in fact. Instead, we have to be content with a point and scoring just the second, third and fourth goals the Anfield outfit have conceded all campaign. Chelsea, of course, being the only other team to get the ball past Alisson in the league this season.  

The smile on the face at Full Time says it all

Brentford. Huge. Liverpool terrifyingly good. Pushing so hard, so fast, so high. Yet somehow the Bees matching them. Hanging on at times but creating massive problems of our own. Before the scoring had even started, Mo Salah saw a nailed on goal somehow cleared off the line by the telescopic legs of Kris Ajer. It was Wolves away all over. Bryan Mbeumo saw the same thing happen just moments later. As Brentford broke the ball was dinked goalwards before being scooped clear at the critical moment by Matip. And then the mayhem started…

Ethan Pinnock at the backpost. A position he has occupied so many times yet which teams still fail to pick up. A free kick from Sergi Canos (not Canyos, MOTD. Or Sergio. Urghh) eventually being turned home by the big man. The stadium erupted. Noise to make the Bournemouth affair seem like a game of musical statues played in a monastery. What a moment. Our Brentford. Our bus stop. Our team with the temerity to take the lead against this global icon. Incredible stuff but, on the balance of play, you have to say it was deserved. 

It didn’t last long, mind you. Jota (not that one) breaking Bees hearts within a few minutes of the restart. Cripes, they’re brutal when they break. The ball pinged around with electric speed. Opposition forced onto the back foot as metaphorical punches were traded and the goal they’d been threatening finally came. Mind you it could have been double that, at least. The post and also David Raya with a world class save coming to our rescue in the opening period. One apiece at half time and nerves shredded. Adrenaline pumping. This was next level stuff.

Yet if the opening period had been the stuff of dreams, it was nothing compared to the second. The miracle man Mo Salah first out of the traps. His 100th Premier League goal momentarily held up for a VAR check following the lino’s flag being raised. It was only a brief respite for the Bees. Liverpool taking the lead and now, surely, just a formality. The hope offered by our short lived lead nothing more than fantasy now. Wasn’t it? 

No chance. Before kick off the wish had been Brentford would play the occasion and the actual game  rather than get caught up in the illustrious nature of our opponents and their reputation. It’s exactly what we did. With ten minutes the scores were level. This time, Vitaly Janelt with the goal. Again, Liverpool failing to deal with a crowded box and the German being the right man in the right place to finally get it over the line. If the first goal had brought shockwaves, this one was off the chart. Going ahead is one thing but to pull it back .. well , it felt ten times better. We could win this… couldn’t we?

?-? indeed

Back came Liverpool once more. This time, Curtis Jones with an absolute piledriver that subsequent viewing showed took a deflection off of Ajer. Raya left with no hope. Brentford on the ropes once more. Tears from our Harry who’d already spent huge portions of the game giving Mr. Atwell short shrift. The man in the middle oblivious to just about everything. This third goal being the straw that broke this camel’s back.

Yet with it came sage advice that, “Remember, it only take a second to score a goal.” And quite literally within moments of imparting these words, we had. Yoanne Wissa the man to give my normally shonky parenting some much needed kudos. 

And then it was 3

You see,” I said as tears turned to smiles. Despair turned to joy. Lionel Road went off the deep end of the Richter scale. This was just nuts. Disbelief on the fact of all around us as Brentford bounced back again. No quarter given. No question remaining unanswered. It was relentless football played at the most gargantuan levels of pace and intensity. On paper we had no right to get even half way close.

As H said to me, ”Dad. That’s the ACTUAL Mo Salah.” Yes Harry, and that’s the actual Rico Henry with the most sublime piece of skill to not only trap the ball with the Egyptian on top of him but then run rings round him when, being honest, an industrial hoof was the best we could have hoped for.

It might have been 4. It would have been the most magnificent fairy tale ending to the most incredible game of football. It doesn’t really matter. Win, lose or draw for me, Clive, it was all about the way we played. Our approach. Our intensity and never say die attitude. Nobody gave the Bees a hope. A lot of people are gong to have to reset their opinions. Once again. It was one of our most incredible displays in living memory. If not ever. Leyton Orient away levels of pressure survived and scoring to match. Bees fans celebrating like we’d won the World Cup at full time.

Thomas a blur of emotion at full time

Next up we’ve got West Ham in the road and then Chelsea at home. On the evidence of the season is far, perhaps they may not be quite the walkovers those outside of TW8 would predict. Brentford still 9th. Four points outside of the Champions League spots and only more more off the top. The season that promised so much going in to it cranking up to levels beyond the expectation levels of the most optimistic supporters. Fantasy football indeed.

Bring on West Ham. And Chelsea. On this form, anything could happen. I can’t wait. Brentford were just amazing yesterday. Liverpool, burned baby. Burned.

just when the day couldn’t get any better, it did

Nick Bruzon

Hail Ants. Who will be the last starter in this toughest of challenges?

25 Sep

The day has come. The one we’ve had marked on the calendar is now upon us. Brentford face a visit from, quite possibly, the most fearsome of all Premier League opponents. Being realistic we haven’t a hope but that doesn’t mean that we won’t be dreaming of the impossible come 5.30pm on Saturday afternoon. My word. Forget playing the likes of Manchester City or Chelsea. This is next level. This is the moment. Our Super Bees are going up against none other than… Stuart Atwell. Groan. I’m sure Liverpool fans feel the same about today’s ref. We’ve all been there. We’ve all suffered. As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough when Jurgen Klopp and his galaxy of stars descend upon us, we’ve this rogue element chucked in to the mix. Hail ants.

Hail ants, indeed.

At best, its the same for both of us. We can’t change anything so let’s go into this one fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Focus on Liverpool and beating them rather than getting overly het up about arbitrary elements. At least, until they happen. If they happen. Hey, you never know. Even Keith Stroud mellowed with experience. A bit. Instead, the question is more one of who Thomas is going to start with? 

Surely more of the same after the defeat of Wolves last weekend? Thomas Frank used his press conference to declare, “There will be 10 of the same starters and then I need to find the last one.” . Yet with, apparently, no injury concerns is this nothing more than gamesmanship? The Bees boss indulging in faux guessing games when the answer is already staring us in the face on the back of last weekend’s matchday programme? 

If my maths are correct, Shandon Baptiste served his red card suspension against Oldham Athletic in the midweek bracketing so could feature. Will his place be taken by Frank the Tank? Is Saman, impressive in the league cup, due another start? Might player 11 be Rico or Pontus? Answers on a postcard please. And remember, no entries can be returned. I’ve no clue but if everybody is available (barring the long term injuries) then surely the same XI has to be the way to go. Play your best team and let the opposition adjust their game to suit. 

Not that Mr. Klopp should have any major concerns about his own selections. Such is the wealth of talent available he could chuck the squad car keys into a bowl, pull out any 11 and aside from a somewhat unsavoury image for a family friendly publication, still come up with a team to beat just about anybody in this division.  Liverpool are currently on a 15 game unbeaten run and have only conceded one Premier League goal this season. That coming in their season opener against Chelsea. The Blues, of course, our next opponents and the only team higher than the Anfield outfit, courtesy of no slimmer margin than alphabetical order. In a statistical anomaly, their records are otherwise identical. 

As it stands…..

Let’s not forget Brentford though. We’re ninth in the table and well aware of our own record and form. Last weekend at Molineux was out best performance of the season by a country mile. Dominant. Dangerous. Cagey when we needed to be. Even a streak of shithousery added to our game. Yet for me, Clive, it was the way we played when down to ten men that was the most impressive element. Of course, Ivan grabbed the headlines but the defence  – especially Kris Ajer and his wonderful tackle – kept us in it. Moreso, given both Pontus and Rico were subbed out in the final quarter hour. It was undoubtedly tense to watch and you could see where the six minutes of additional time came from (hey, those gloves weren’t going to change themselves). 

This had the Wolves fans up in arms. Hey, gloves get holes in them.

I’m not stupid. I’m aware we are being served up as plucky underdogs. The team that many admire but just about everyone expects to go down to a something nil defeat. That Mo Salah will try and use the occasion to progress to that magical numerical mark. Not a 7(seven) goal bracketing (although I wouldn’t put it past him) but more reaching 100 Premier League goals. With the race for the golden boot already looking like it will be a four way fight between him, Cristiano Ronaldo, Romelu Lukaku and Ivan Toney you can bet he’ll fancy his changes to both step up form his current 99 and move ahead in that particular race.

Salah – has scored a few and will be looking to add to that haul

The bookies don’t fancy us, that’s for sure. We’ve come in slightly but are still at a general 6-1 this morning. For the home team in a two horse race, that tells you all you need to know about how we are perceived and how tough the opposition is. Liverpool rather than Atwell. Although also Atwell. Then again, we were similar longshots  in the season opener against Arsenal and look what happened there! Yours truly ended up laughing all the way to the bank that day with 888 having to cough up for a very tasty pint of Guinness at full time. Ker-ching !! 

Then again, this is how we love it. Under the radar. Tinpot. Unfancied. Nothing more than a bus stop. It’s going to be as raucous as they come. The supporters up for it and set to welcome rival fans who actually know a thing or two about making some noise of their own. Cripes, Arsenal may aswell have brought their library with them, such was the lack of atmosphere being generated from that far corner. Oldham were ten times louder and they had a third of the numbers present. This will be different though. Hey Jude v You’ll Never Walk Alone. 

It’s going to be immense. And that’s just before the game kicks off. Bring. It. On…. And see you there.

More of this would be wonderful

Nick Bruzon

That’s one Saturday we’ll never forget although maybe not for all the right reasons.

27 May

After all the build-up to both the play-off final and Champions League it ended up being awful. Just awful. Cock ups and woeful flaps. Dreadful clappers egging on their heroes and nobody laughing. But enough about BBC1 screening: All Round to Mrs. Browns last night. We need to talk about football. Brentford will play Aston Villa next season after they lost out to Fulham. Liverpool return home empty handed following the game with Real Madrid in Kiev.

Mrs Brown

Mrs. Brown. As relentless as The Terminator

I hadn’t planned on blogging much until the World Cup. Yet yesterday’s double-header has seen a temporary return for this weekend. With Brentford having enjoyed such an action packed campaign it was only right and proper to recognise the Championship season coming to conclusion. And then there was the added bonus of Liverpool trying to recreate the miracle of Istanbul on another of those glory, glory European nights (other entries from the Anfield bingo card are also available).

What can you say though? Even this morning I still numb by what happened. Shocked. That most fickle mistress having administered a kick to the nuts that was harsh even by her standards. And just to be clear, I’m still talking about the football rather than any accidental switching over to Mrs. Brown half way through the night.

There’s not much to add that hasn’t already been written and said. The clappers were horrific. The play-off final was cagey. The post-match love in with a Fulham side who should have been reduced to ten players much earlier than it eventually happened was awful. Aston Villa picked themselves up in the second half but it was much too late by then. Tom Cairney grabbing the winner after being put through by Eighteen-year-old Sessegnon. For those not familiar with the player, I understand his name is actually Ryan. And he did a pass. Well done.

The only real plus point to come out of this was that at least Steve Bruce has been spared telling John Terry to grow up, forget his own perceived self-importance and get warmed up for the game against Chelsea next season. Instead, it’ll be a game against Brentford. If he doesn’t hang up his boots.

As for Liverpool, it wasn’t to be. Goalkeeper has a nightmare will be what we take away from this. Sadly. One has to feel for Loris Karius. He cut a desperate figure at full time, left alone on the pitch in Kiev. For all the world looking like he just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. It was awful to watch. As though we were peering in on an individual’s moment of personal hell when surely an immediate arm round the shoulder was needed.

Rio Ferdinand in the pundit’s box didn’t really help afterwards. None of his teammates will say it, but they‘ll all be looking at him and thinking it. I’ve been in that situation. I’ve done it…he noted.

Stevie G joined in, mentioning he’d won the final. Again. And again. Clanngggg – the sound of a name being dropped.

Whatever happened, happened. Easy for me to say on a Sunday morning but we’ve more than seen our own pantheon of goalkeeping calamity at Griffin Park over the years. We’ve more than felt our own pain at the final stage. That’s before you even get to all those play-off semis and, of course, ‘that penalty’.

Wigan, Crewe, Port Vale, Stoke City, Carlisle and Yeovil Town may not have the same allure as Real Madrid but the pain was just as real. The feeling of emptiness horrific. The realisation of having got so close only to fall at the last is just a brutal sensation.

Screen Shot 2018-05-27 at 07.58.33

Marcello Trotta takes that penalty – as bad as it got but what a response next season.

It was Ashley Bayes to the max. It does get better. It will get better. It may not feel it now. That feeling of despair we all felt as the penalty hit the bar was replaced with something quite wonderful the following season as another penalty hit the back of the net.

At the same time, bouncing back from making not one but two such high profile mistakes with the eyes of the world watching is going to be as huge a challenge as they come. Hopefully, somebody will go round Twitter mopping up some of the vile abuse being poured out towards the young goalkeeper and his family. It was simply horrific. This normally most wonderful of social media tools at it’s very worst.

Spare a thought also for Mo Salah. Whether you support Liverpool or not, only the most churlish could take pleasure from the fact that he now looks as though he’ll miss the World Cup. For this global superstar to be absent from the most exciting of tournaments is a huge loss. For Egypt, for fans, for football and of course the player himself. What a way it would have been to wrap up a simply magnificent season. Now, he’s hoping the medics can do their thing but listening to Jürgen Klopp talking at full time, it doesn’t seem good.

I could ramble on, but what’s the point. Football treated us to the very worst of what she offers yesterday. At least in terms of raw, inconsolable emotion. Unless you are a Fulham fan.

See you all again in a week or so. There’s a World Cup, a new Brentford kit and a few more things to look forward to….

bayes lw

Ashley Bayes bounced back from this debut

Nick Bruzon