I gave you every break possible. You had a 50-50 chance. You weren’t even close.

A point on the road and avoiding defeat. Something you’d normally be ok with. Moreso with one of your main promotion rivals falling to a 3-0 defeat. Yet there’s nothing but a hollow feeling this morning off the back of as frustrating an evening as they come. Brentford were held 2-2 at Wayne Rooney’s Derby County in a game that saw us electric in the first half and anonymous in the second. Early goals from Ivan Toney and Sergi Canos setting our stall out but there was always the feeling that missed opportunities, primarily one from Bryan Mbeumo, may come back to bite us in the second period. Its Brentford, innit? Yet there was no legislating for how costly our inability to punish opponents when they were looking dead on their feet would ultimately transpire to be. The aforementioned defeat for Swansea City at Bournemouth providing scant relief in the face of our own disappearance and Watford cruising past Rotherham 4-1. Saturday’s game with Nottingham Forest will be huge. Another early kick off to try and lay down a marker. A chance to exorcise the demons of the second half.

Cripes, it all started so well. A return for Pontus Jansson alongside Winston Reid at centre back in his first game of the year. Wayne Roon etc etc  Derby County so anonymous in that opening period we could have filled the defence with a couple of paper bags fluttering around randomly in the breeze and we’d have been just as safe. Bryan Mbeumo and Sergi Canos, the other change to the team, driving us forward. Norgaard and, especially Janelt, imperious in the middle. Vitaly winning every ball and breaking with speed. Ivan Toney doing his thing from the penalty spot once more with less than ten minutes gone after Mbeumo had been felled in the box. No complaints from Derby and about as stonewall as they come.  

It was another one stroked home to the bottom corner. Another one preceded by that most heart stoping of almost nonchalant ambling up to the ball before unleashing a trademark precision strike. 1-0 up and soon it was double. Canos getting our second from the corner of the box with a fine shot, hit low into the corner. Tariqe Fosu may feel hard done by, and personally I thought he’d retain his spot following the game at Blackburn, but Sergi was there to to do what he does. To show the critics just why he deserves his chance.

2-0. Sergi did his thing…

In between these came the Mbeumo opportunity. Jensen bursting clear and squaring to the unmarked wideman. He was clear, albeit on the angle, but  somehow managed to hit it painfully wide rather than coming close to even troubling Derby ‘keeper Kelle Roos. It wasn’t the only chance we had in that period but certainly the clearest. The sort that might have had Ian Moose punching the directions to the training ground into his sat nav. With the pressure building and the Derby goal being peppered, it was the sort of half where we felt hard done by in ‘only’ scoring twice. Arrogant? Not really. More symptomatic of the possession we’d enjoyed and chances we’d created in one of the most intense periods of football we’ve played this season. Yet, as we all know, stats and chances count for nothing if you can’t turn them into goals. If the first half had been nothing but Brentford, the second period saw the baton handed to our hosts in quite remarkable style.

Wayne Rooney has been lauded for the triple substitution he made as the players returned. Rightly so. Derby hadn’t been at the races and drastic action was needed.. There was no messing around. No further opportunity for the no-shows to redeem themselves. Instead, a change in set up was the decision and what a reaction. Within minutes they’d pulled the first goal back. Nathan Byrne bursting down the right and squaring the ball for Louie Watson with the simplest of chances. He made no mistake as he steered home from close in. Now we had a game on our hands. Now we saw 2-0 and dominant become 2-1 and wobbly with almost the entire second period to play. Brentford resembling nothing more than punch drunk boxer. Derby raining strike after strike in a bid to find that knockout blow. The Bees on the ropes, offering nothing. Hanging on to a 2-1 lead and waiting until the final twenty minutes to start making changes. 

The arrival of Tariqe Fosu providing some respite as we began to open up the Rams but there was little end product from anyone to provide a genuine threat to Roos. The feeling that a second Derby goal was coming growing by the minute and then, with the clock reading 86, it arrived. Louie Sibley making the opportunity for himself and then unleashing a fine curler past David Raya. 2-2. Game over, man. Game over. A point gained but a match that feels like nothing except a gut busting defeat. Even having slept on it. We could have put it out of sight in the first half, true, but it was more our complete inability to even come close to keeping pace with our opponents in the second that is the real mystery. Our inability to get even close to the ball or hang on to it when we did pick it up that I can’t get my head around. You have to credit Wayne Rooney and his side, of course. Yet at the same time, it takes two teams to play a game of football and there was only one present in the second 45. Thomas is going to have to give the mother of all pep talks today in the build up to the TV game with Nottingham Forest on Saturday lunchtime. 

Win that one and we overtake a Swansea City team who then have their challenge with Cardiff City the visitors. Win that one and we close back in on second place Watford ahead of their visit from Birmingham City. Let’s hope Lee Bowyer is ten times the better manager than the recently displaced Aitor Karanka.

Yesterday started off badly with the sad news of Yaphet Kotto passing at the age of 81. To cinema goers, he was best known for his roles as William Laughlin in The Running Man, Parker in Alien and, of course, Doctor Kananga in Live and Let Die. The role that saw him face off against the best Bond, Roger Moore, trading one liners and high end fashion with 007. As full time went at Pride Park, I couldn’t help but think back to his own impassioned speech to tarot reader Solitaire (Jane Seymour) upon discovering her betrayal as he despaired, “I gave you every break possible. You had a 50-50 chance. You weren’t even close.”

The highlights are up. Somewhere. I’m not sure I can face watching them again today. The post match catch up last night was painful enough. No team has a right to win every game. It’s not the fact we lost, sorry drew, that hurts, but more the manner of our no show. Instead, perhaps time to crack open the Bond collection instead. Time to switch off from football for a few days.

See you on Saturday for Nottingham Forest. Maybe sooner.   

Deadly rivals face off.

Nick Bruzon

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Martin Allen on video or Alan Partridge on Bond?

Bank holiday weekend. Brentford should be hosting Charlton Athletic today and then visiting Wayne Rooney’s former Frank Lampard’s Derby County Derby County on Monday. Instead, we’re not. Coronavirus. Lockdown. Self-isolation. Sadly, we all know the drill by now. Stay indoors. Don’t be a dick. Think of the NHS. Think of each other. Much as it would be nice to sit on a park bench drinking brandy or flying a remote control helicopter (both of which I saw across the road yesterday), we’ve got to sit tight and stay indoors. It IS frustrating. It IS boring . But my word, think of the alternatives. The least of which being a trip to Pride Park. This is no joke, sadly. Don’t be a dick. Stay the f*&k indoors . Please. Instead, why not take the opportunity to embrace your inner Alan Partridge? 

Stop getting Bond wrong !!

It is frustrating, no question. If nothing else Easter Weekend is second only to Christmas for that wonderfully intense hit of football. A double eSpresso of big match action. If anything there’s more to play for with the season approaching the denouement. Every kick and every point is crucial. The final table almost set with play-off and promotion places able to be confirmed at a moment’s notice should results go the right way. Alas, it’s not to be. There is no visit from Charlton. We won’t be meeting at St. Pancras for the trip to Derby. The best we can do is look at the table and fantasise about what might have been for Brentford. All being well, it will come to pass but when that actually happens is anybody’s guess.

Don’t be downcast. There is still hope for that Bank holiday fix. First up, the GPG have the second in their series of ‘live web cast’ interviews. Following on from last weekend’s ‘ask me anything’ session with Phil Giles, next up is none other than Mad Dog himself – Martin Allen. The session with Phil was unexpectedly open and frank, even by Brentford standards. He was engaging and nothing was off limits as the one hour video link ended up running to double that. Hats off to Trevor and his team for arranging this. Now we have the chance to go to the next level.

The best of the video wall highlights

There can’t be anyone among us who didn’t love Martin’s time at Griffin Park. Excitement. Luncacy. Play-offs. The FA Cup run. The Great Escape. The terror of looking into his eyes. What a man. What a couple of seasons. What a side he put together. Some called it ‘two bob’. I called it the quintessential example of team spirit and ability Oh, John Salako. Err, Steve Claridge. 

So Saturday afternoon promises to be a real treat. With the technical glitches (i.e pitch invaders) looking to be ironed out via means of needing the link to be sent to you (HERE, is the place to get this). Sign up or miss out. As has so wonderfully been explained, “There will NOT be a catch-up video etc. available after the event – for reasons I am sure you can guess. Martin did a Beesotted event recently and Billy/Dave have not been able to use the audio.” 

The one downside to all of this is that it messes with the prospect of being legitimately able to participate in an Alan Partridge style four day bank holiday weekend James Bond marathon. The possibility of doing just this has often been joked about but there’s never been a justifiable reason for sitting in front of the TV from Friday morning through to Monday night. Now there is. 

Could it happen?

Doctor No is scheduled for 9am although judging by Mrs. Bruzon’s reaction to the suggestion last night, it may be a case of jumping straight to Roger Moore. The argument that “If not for us, do it for the NHS and the teachers” not deemed legitimate. Perhaps she was thinking about Thunderball or Die Another Day – a fair point.

If we manage / are allowed (delete as applicable) to stick to the schedule then Martin cuts right across The Man With The Golden Gun. Potentially even eating to the parachute jump opening to The Spy Who Loved Me. Decisions. Decisions. Martin Allen or Roger Moore being chased on skis?

Judging by the paint pots currently sitting in the hallway, I fear the decision may be made for me. See you all at 3pm tomorrow….

 

24 films distilled into four and a bit minutes

Nick Bruzon 

Enjoy the unexpected silence in your favourite shirt. Or watch Roger.

Hurrah. Life is back to normal. In the loosest sense.  Brentford, West Bromwich Albion, Leeds United et al are still waiting to resume battle at the top end of the Championship. Liverpool have had their seemingly unstoppable charge to the Premier League title put firmly on hold. Football fans are having to get their hit from watching the Leyton Orient promoted 128 team knock out tournament on FIFA 20, UltimateQuaranTeam Cup. Yet this weekend is going to be as close to the regular season as we are going to get in quite a while. It’s International break. We wouldn’t have been playing anyway. Instead, tonight we get the chance to not watch England v Italy ; tomorrow it would have been Gibraltar v Norway (at U-21 level).

There’s none of this tonight and tomorrow

I have to be honest, I’m finding this tough from a sporting perspective. The build up to the weekend always reached a crescendo on a Friday, with anticipation of what was to come reaching peak excitement. Now there is nothing although, as noted, I can take small consolation in the fact that it wouldn’t have happened tomorrow anyway. Instead, we’d be cursing about the horror of the alleged England supporters band. 

We’ve said it before. We’ve tried to tone it down in recent seasons. But, I’m sorry, its time to unload. If anything , this CoronaVirus curse is making us realise just how much we take for granted in life. How much there is to enjoy. When this is all over, and it will be, I want to enjoy every minute of life. To embrace International friendlies as the gift that they are rather than the faux-substitute for ‘real football that they have so often been.

We’ve used this analogy before but they’ve always felt very much like a Timothy Dalton ‘Bond film’. They’re great fun but they’re just no Roger Moore effort and always seem to lack a certain bite. The rest of the crew and supporting cast may be the same, the action and the sound are identical but, ultimately, without the one-liners and raised eyebrow of Roger it all seems to be missing an indefinable something. Rather than the effortless cool of quaffing a Martini in a safari suit they are more a case of Bond nervously sipping a de-caf latte whilst waiting for his contact to arrive. And you can forget any cameo role from Victor Tourjansky  – the best we’ll get is a brief run out from the likes of Joey Barton, Michael Ball or Steven Caulker.

There’s always an excuse for the Tourjansky montage

Ahh, Victor. We digrees. And, again, somebody who has been mentioned many times but is always worth a doff of the hat. Or, should that be , a raise of the glass? Very much an unsung hero of mine, he appeared alongside Roger three times pulling off his signature move: specifically,  that of looking bewilderedly at his drink as though inebriation could be the only explanation for the amazing feat he had just seen 007 pull off. 

A brief moment on screen and then he’d be gone until the next film. Victor performed this routine in the trio of movies  that ran from ‘The Spy Who Loved Me’ through ‘Moonraker’ and then culminating in  ‘For Your Eyes Only’.

Whilst the man himself was missing for Octopussy, his ‘joke’ had been retained although ‘Palace guard’ doesn’t perform the legendary double take with anywhere near the same panache or style. If anything, an International friendly of a performance within the meat of big match Roger.

Palace Guard – the Dalton to Victor’s Roger

Yet even though International friendlies will be greeted with infinitely more enthusiasm in future, there’ll still be no excuse for THAT. BAND. It’s great we’ll be spared them tonight and one can only hope this is something the continues – although not for any public health reasons. 

Honestly, who needs their moribund parping and jingoistic greatest hits? Who actually enjoys their flaccid and off-key nasal drone? Show me any supporter who, honestly, thinks a game is enhanced by their unwanted presence? Who truly believes that any England match is helped by hearing the theme tunes from ‘The Great Escape’ or ‘The Italian Job’ repeated ad-nauseam,  but not quite as you remember them?

“What we need right now is a flat version of the National anthem or 7 nation army”. Said nobody ever.

When the Mexican Wave or Robbie Williams singing ‘Let me Entertain You’ (which you can find on: Now that’s what I call Stadium music, also featuring: ‘We Are The Champions’) have the moral high ground in the low brow sporting tedium stakes then there’s something seriously wrong.  

That. Band. Banned

Given the choice of being gaffer-taped to a chair and subjected to them or Mrs. Brown’s Boys, I honestly think I’d have to side with Brendan O’Carroll performing his toe-curlingly unfunny Irish mammy/man in a cardigan routine. But enough about my private life.

When this is all done. Let’s really enjoy every minute of every football match. Even the cruddy friendlies. Let’s never hear, or speak of, that band again. Until then, why not stick on some 007 this weekend? Who doesn’t need a bit of Roger right now?

In the mean time, today is Friday. I’m going to make it Footballshirt Friday and use the whole ‘Work From Home’ thing to wear my favourite kit to work. It’ll probably just be me but why not join in? Why not post a picture? Why not get behind your team online and just use it as an excuse to talk football.?

Just because there wouldn’t have been any league action today, let’s not stop that for celebrating our teams. Let’s do it… #FootballshirtFriday

Now I’ve just got to choose one. 

Which Brentford shirt to go for today?

Nick Bruzon

Match Of The Day scandal ruins transfer news.

“Mate I’m scandalised…” Not my words but those of Brentford supporter JJ (he of the goal inducing dodgy bladder from the Ealing Road) that reached me last night via the medium of text message. They are words that should unite supporters of every club from West Bromwich Albion and Arsenal to Partick Thistle, Forfar Athletic and beyond. Words which even eclipsed our own news about the signing of striker Nikos Karelis. All this, after reading an article in his son Felix’s copy of BBC Match Of The Day Magazine.

Nikos. Blown away by a scandal from Lineker et al

Mrs. Browns Boys. Made up coffee words – where I gather Star*ucks have now added Trenta to their ‘made up words‘ size range that also includes ‘Tall’ (small, obviously), ‘Grande’ and ‘Venti’. Team GB. Bernie Clifton or, rather, his tinpot England ‘supporters’ ‘band’. Polls about ‘Best Bond’ which have Roger Moore anywhere except number one. Espresso spelt or pronounced Expresso. The world’s weakest joke: Star Wars Day (the one between May the third and May the fifth – aka the fourth of May in our house) etc etc etc. Regular readers – should such a concept somehow exist – know the drill.

There are few things in life which annoy me as much as any of these. Yet Match Of The Day magazine may have just joined the list. Specifically in the latest edition of their publication which included a ‘Best Mascot’ feature.

There was no Buzzette. Anywhere. Gunnersaurus, the Arsenal thing, was absent despite winning the recent World Cup of football mascots. Somehow. West Brom’s Boilerman was conspicuous by his absence. Perennial favourite Kingsley of Partick Thistle was there, although somehow languishing in third place. I’ll let JJ pick up the rest of the analysis with a direct copy paste…

Buzzette – absent. Kingsley – booted into Bronze medal position

JJ: Mate I’m scandalised to see that in Match of the Day magazine the force of nature that is Kingsley is only down at number three for their Mascot of the Year, merely one place above the utter atrocity that is the Euro 2020 effort, ahem, “Skillzy” (take my word for it mate, don’t even look the bastard up…). Not only that but I see that at number one is Wigan’s own Crusty the Pie- all well and good but I hate to break it to the chattering classes fawning over this “ironic and kitsch” dough based hero but Forfar Athletic’s “Baxter the Bridie” beat him to it by several years… 

As regards (shudder…) “Skillzy” I reckon the whole situation can be summed up in three words-anodyne..corporate..wank. Case rests m’lud… Rant over…

Baxter – Noooooooooo

Despite the advice not to, I’ve looked up Skillzy…..

It’s true. Everything JJ says and more. Bad enough that the mascot looks like a cross-eyed serial killer wearing a dead skin mask made from the face of one of his victims. Yet the most heinous of his crimes being use of the extraneous ‘z’ in…’Skillzy’.  Oh, and the top knot. It is a level of bland self-indulgence previously only enjoyed by the aforementioned coffee company. (Large will be fine, thank you). 

Crusty is good, to be fair, but for this new kid on the block to shoot straight in at number is symptomatic of today’s ‘quick fix’ society. Instant gratification syndrome. What a terrible example for any young children who may be reading. Granted, the target audience of the offending publication.

The likes of Buzzette, Kingsley and long established Gunnersaurus have put in all manner of hard yards over the years only to be dismissed in a heartbeat. I must admit to not being overly familiar with Baxter but am sure that Forfar fans will be as frustrated as I am this morning. Possibly.

And, on other news,Brentford official were pleased to say  #WelcomeNikos yesterday. A one year deal has been signed with the option of a second season. Could he be the final piece in the jigsaw? Roll on Saturday’s trip to Charlton where we find out. I’d love to talk more about his but , to quote JJ, “I’m scandalised” by the whole mascot thing.

Now, does anybody have a phone number for The Daily Mail….?

Skill’z’y – appearing on a ‘Wanted’ poster soon

Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells

To cap it all, they had a drum. A f***ing drum.

It really was that bad. Brentford and Wigan Athletic played out as insipid a 0-0 draw as one could imagine when Championship football returned on Saturday afternoon following the International break. The scintillating football which has been a trademark of Thomas Frank’s team in 2019 nothing but a distant memory in a game that was as awful as the smell wafting over the DW stadium. For the record, chicken manure from a local farmer – no manners, but what a critic. To borrow a phrase. Instead, it is nothing more than a case of scratching around for positives as the Bees are left chasing a fifth, successive top ten finish and a midweek trip to Swansea City. This before Frank Lampard’s Derby County ™ are next up at Griffin Park.

I’ve watched the highlights. If anything, the 1minute 47 seconds offered up by Sky are overly generous. The other 88 mins 13 were as turgid as it comes. Wigan were determined to strangle any life out of the game. Brentford, unable to find a way through as any attacking intent was choked out of the game. Paul Cook’s team administering a vice like grip around the throat of the Bees. Whenever Neal Maupay got in the box there were three men on him. Saïd was closed down every time he got on the ball. Several players seemed off the pace (first half Henrik and Ollie in particular – sorry, but..) whilst the team were desperately crying out for the fluidity of Romaine Sawyers to guide the ball through the midfield and open up play. And, Wigan had a drum. A f**king drum. At home. That was worse than anything we saw on pitch or smelled off it. At least we had Harry Potter up our sleeve to counter the moribund banging. Nice work, Simon.

A lone drummer is no substitute for a home atmosphere

Instead, we ended the game with a solitary shot on target. According to the stats. I was struggling to remember even that although the highlights have duly offered it up. Our hosts had three, with Brentford very much grateful to Luke Daniels for keeping us in the match. Three times he retained parity including one effort from distance in the first half that looked as though it might catch him unawares and drift in to the top corner. Instead, it was guided to safety as our virgin goal remained unblemished.

Thomas was bang on the money at full time when he noted “It was a game of very few chances and I think it was a fair result.…. Our normal fluent play between the lines just wasn’t there and we weren’t good enough to play around them”. Not ideal reading but it was exactly what happened and infinitely better to have a head coach who acknowledges what we could all see rather than trotting out the usual “We deserved to win this”.

Look, it wasn’t great. There’s no real action of note to talk about and to compound matters, we lost Yoann Barbet just a few minutes into the second period. He’d needed treatment late on in the first after a nasty looking fall and was clearly limping as he emerged after his half time cuppa. The boos from the home supporters whilst he was being treated both unfair and uncalled for. Something that was consistent with any of our players going down after a lot of rough treatment.

There was little protection offered from the man in neon yellow, referee Andy Woolmer in a game that ended with him blowing up for fouls on 33 occasions. Just to put that into context, there were only 20 awarded as Birmingham City L went down at West Brom on Friday night and 21 as Frank Lampard’s Derby County came one short of hitting 7(seven) goal brackets against Rotherham.   

View from the away end – about as close as it got

So Wigan stifled it. Brentford were off the pace. But can we take anything positive from this one? Well, the fact that Wigan played with such a negative style and formation shows the threat presented by normally free-scoring Bees. Indeed, as the clock moved on it felt like the sort of game that so many times in the past we’ve seen the team lose 1-0. At least this time around, Luke kept us in it with a number of saves that were as smart as the all red goalkeeper’s kit he was sporting. 

There was a return to match action for Lewis Macleod, too. His appearance as a late substitute for Josh Da Silva being the latest attempt to relaunch what should be such a promising career but one which has, sadly, been blighted by injury after injury. How unlucky has Lewis been? Here’s hoping he can put a few games under his belt and then hit the ground running next season. Indeed, even Josh starting this one and a very accomplished performance from Mads Bech Sörensen off the bench being further testament to a B-team system that is seeing players segue through to the match day squad.

What else. It was another game unbeaten in orange / brown (what jinx?) whilst the pub before and after the game was quiet magnificent – despite the bizarre formation of a canteen style queue to order the drinks. This a phenomena I’ve now witnessed twice in less than a week after having never experienced this previously. How has this been allowed to happen? Why? Did I miss a memo ? It’s quite bizarre.

Wigan – great beer, despite the queue

The lack of social element aside,  how do you see the full contents on offer across the whole bar front when approaching a fixed point in the corner. Moreso, when you are staring at the back of the prior punter? Why can’t the staff work out who is next up without looking ? Even then, service was still granted by answering the question “Who’s next?”.  Err, me. I’m at the top of the queue. All that was needed was a plastic tray for the full school dining hall experience . Still, as an away fan it made an alternative to being greeted with the words ‘Ow Much..?’ from the previous transaction ringing in the ears.

We digress, as ever and that’s a rant for another day. For now, we’ll file it alongside waiters describing coffee as Expresso and made up coffee words (what the hell is a ventissimo?). Team GB. The faux-verb “To medal”. Mrs. Brown’s Boys. People who think Roger Moore shouldn’t top a ‘Best Bond’ list. Star Wars Day  – that’s the one after May the third.  Ian Moose. iPod headphones. The England Supporters band. Indeed, any form of musical interlude at football. See also: goal music, drums, Mr. Portsmouth and his bell. John Bishop (he’s from Liverpool, apparently. If only he’d mentioned it in his routine). Use of the words Derby County preceded by Frank Lampard’s….

And relax. All of a sudden, a 0-0 at Wigan doesn’t seem so bad. Despite the drum.

Thomas salutes the fans at full time

Nick Bruzon  

With a key festive tradition denied, can we reach an all time high?

Where to go with this one today? By all rights we should be looking in depth at Brentford v Bolton. A 1-0 win for The Bees on Saturday saw Thomas Frank record a morale boosting win with the game’s only goal coming courtesy of Neal Maupay. Indeed, the closest in which lacklustre opposition got to scoring was via the head of their own goalkeeper Ben Alnwick who headed just wide as the game reached a buttock clenching (for some) denouement. Honestly, it was never in doubt and Bolton look to be in serious trouble whilst Brentford will no doubt have much tougher tests ahead in the coming days. Starting this afternoon with a Boxing Day trip to Ashton Gate to face Bristol City. Will the Bolton performance be the building blocks of a lengthy run up the table or a flash in the pan win against a team who will need something special to maintain their own Championship status?

Yet this morning (Wednesday, possibly…) yours truly is very much in relaxed mode. The thought of engaging the brain one which is very much playing second fiddle to drinking another coffee and just enjoing some contemplative time. Some time with the family. Some time off work and not getting upset by the pressures of life.

Why even last night, flicking through the TV selection (the first time in about four days the box has been on) we stumbled across Mrs. Brown’s Boys. A ‘hilarious’ ‘joke’ about an Alexa style device played out before we jumped onwards in a futile quest for a Christmas ‘Bond’ move. There was no rage. No rant. No observation that, “FFS. It’s a man. In a cardigan. And a wig. With one joke. One joke that has been spread thinner than a chunky tarmac driveway“.

Instead, we let it go in search of Roger Moore. Some traditions die hard in our house and whilst we were denied satisfaction in this instance, even ITV4 letting us down, perhaps it might be time to crack out the blu-rays later today. Nothing says ‘festive season’ like Victor Tourjansky trying to figure out whether 007’s latest bit of derring-do really happened or was simply the by product of drinking too much in the mid-day sun.

And Brentford have won a game… Victor Tourjansky does his thing

 But then nothing says festive tradition like Boxing Day at Griffin Park. Sadly, after what seems like a good ten or so December 26^th home games on the bounce (Luis / Jonathan – IF you are reading and could please confirm), we now have to do battle with the seasonal timetable and upsetting the family. And that’s a green card too far in our house. Moreso at a time when Mrs Bruzon has spoiled us fantastically. More than we have any right to expect. Indeed, a key part of her present to Harry and myself was not coming to the Bolton game given her own, alleged, albatross like qualities when it comes to home wins. Sure enough, three points followed. Although he showed bigger balls than me, and he’s only five, when replying to her own post-match question…   

Rachel: “They won!! Does that mean the jinx is off and I can come back to football?”

Harry: “No mummy. Bolton were so bad that even if you’d been here Brentford would still have won”

A bit harsh? Or fair reflection? Personally, I’ve not been so calm at football in a long time. Honestly, the game never felt as though it was in doubt (at least through my eyes) despite Alnwick’s late foray upfield. Another goal or two would have been nice – if only to alleviate some of the stress from those sitting around us – but the three points came gift wrapped and we took advantage of a seasonal offering. Thomas Frank shuffled his pack and his formation. Three centre-backs were named with the wings back continuing to push high up the field – although this time not exposing the defence. Henrik Dalsgaard was finally given what we will politely call a well-earned rest whilst we still had the flexibility to introduce Yoann Barbet when Chris Mepham had to leave the field of play early. Let’s hope that one was purely a precaution.

Bolton were industrial in the challenge but offered little resistance to a positive Brentford team.

It all counts for nothing if we put in a turkey of a performance at Bristol City, of course. Yet I’m feeling upbeat. Feeling confident. The good vibe of the Junior Bees Christmas party washed over Griffin Park last week and continued through to the Bolton game when Thomas and the boys gave us all the perfect present.

Today, I’ll be following via the medium of social media or possible sneaking a look towards three wise men shouting at their TVs on Sky Sports News. There’s always the commentary option, too, yet locking myself away with Mark Burridge and an earpiece for two hours will likely be received about as well as HB’s attempts at diplomacy. Moreso when Roger is saving the world.

For those who do travel, good luck. And enjoy! For those elsewhere, I wish you well in whatever option you undertake to follow this one. Here’s to three more points. And perhaps, a bit of Bond….

You could do worse…

Nick Bruzon

When Mrs. Brown has the moral high ground, something is seriously wrong. Star Bores day is here.

Dear Star Wars fans.

This one’s for you (Brentford v Hull City can wait until tomorrow). Copy, paste and edit. A bit.

I love the same film series (Jar Jar Binks and Yoda aside) as you do and one day look forward to watching these with my son. I still have a Millennium Falcon toy somewhere in that attic although sadly, no original packaging. My now four year old son is being slowly sucked into the film series and is a huge Chewbacca fan. The naughty man still scares him. I’m a bit “m’eh” about the prospect of the forthcoming Han Solo film. Being honest.

As such, I guess I’m a fan. Of sorts. Not in the same ball park as the Roger Moore era of James Bond movies but still a fan. Watching ‘For Your Eyes Only’ last night (ITV4) I was blown away by he deadpan brilliance of the exchange:
“If we could identify that someone….”
“Why don’t you try the identigraph?”

Yet sadly, every year, something happens to make me fall out of love with these films a little bit more (not Bond, for the record).

Today is Friday the fourth of May. Or, as most sane people also know it, Friday the fourth of May. Perhaps the date is best remembered as the anniversary of the Cornwall railway bridge opening, linking Devon and Cornwall. If you need to commemorate the 4/5 at least make it for a significant reason.

Instead Sci-fi geeks and lovers of crap jokery everywhere will, no doubt, be bastardising the date and infecting my social media timeline with the hilarious, wait for it……. ‘May the fourth be with you’ comment.

May the fourth. Be. With. You. It’s funny because it almost sounds like a line from a film. How we laughed.
Even now, writing those horrible, horrible words, I can feel the vomit rising. The gag reflex building. The anger simmering. Not even Mrs. Brown and her boys would stoop to this level of ‘joke’. Probably.

How could this happen?

Please – I beg of you – it’s not too late. It’s not funny, it’s not clever, its not original and using this weak, weak pun does not make you into some 21st Century Oscar Wilde or Stephen Fry. It’s the sort of ‘joke’ used by people who find The Krankies or ‘Big Mouth Billy Bass’ ( ‘Take me to the river” – don’t tempt me) the height of cultural sophistication.

So this fourth of May, don’t play into the hands of the Star Wars Marketing board. If you really want to enjoy Star Wars then stick on Return of the Jedi, perhaps fast-forwarding through any Ewok related content.

Just don’t. Make. That. Joke.

Nick Bruzon

Brentford remember and Liverpool celebrate (although not all of us join in).

Billy (the fish)

Football, eh? Few could deny that last night’s Champions League semi was nothing short of the comic book capers normally found in the likes of Roy of the Rovers or Billy The Fish (is that still a thing)? Every ‘Liverpool in Europe’ bingo cliché was played out as they edged past Roma by the odd goal in 13 to reach the final where they’ll play Real Madrid. There was angst in our house as that one took place (more to come) but, as ever, we can only start with Brentford.

The Premier League dream may be over for this season at Griffin Park but that’s not to say it hasn’t been a busy last few days At least, on social media where there have been a couple of quite significant Brentford reflated anniversaries remembered by the club. And one that hasn’t.

Whilst Liverpool were doing their thing yesterday, in TW8 it was cause for a different kind of celebration. 26 years since Gary Blissett scored that goal at Peterborough. 26 years since Saint and Greavsie were left with huge amounts of ‘egg on face’ after having to retract their premature crowning of Birmingham City as League Champions. I still smile a that one, even now. 26 years since Robbie from Eastenders appeared on the celebration videos. Nice one, Wellard – a better effort than Cameron Diaz.

What a day for Brentford fans. What a night. What a celebration. What a goal from Bliss. The man. The legend. The match highlights appeared yesterday and still seem so fresh – mainly because I think I must have watched them more times than The Spy Who Loved Me (and that’s saying something) over the ensuing years.

Almost up there with Peterborough

Our more recent generation of fans have, of course, been spoiled by nothing except good times over the last few years. Good luck to them – they’ve got on board the Brentford express at the right station. Yet, at the same time, to be part of a moment such as this when we were, typically, mid table plodders, was nothing short of wonderful. It really was a special moment to have finally achieved that elevation to a higher division.

These days, playing the likes of Leeds united, Wolves, Aston Villa and Birmingham City is the norm (although maybe not next season if things go to plan on Sunday). Back then, to have the opportunity of doing so was a rare and exciting chance. Whilst we won’t talk about what happened next, let’s not deny that getting there was about as good as it gets. Sheer bliss !

#OnThisDay in 1992, 5,000 Bees fans traveled to @theposhofficial to see a single Gary Blissett goal secure the Division Three title

What an incredible afternoon it was at London Road! pic.twitter.com/EpLt0TEgdD

— Brentford FC (@BrentfordFC) May 2, 2018

The other anniversary was something that fan engagement manager Ryan Murrant tweeted about. Not surprisingly, given a previous role at Doncaster Rovers. Five years ago it happened.. and not in a good way. 

Something, something, something, penalty. If only the media had mentioned this at the time or showed it since.

I’ve seen that crossbar rattler many, many times since – on each occasion thinking that, this time surely, Marcello Trotta would score. This time, perhaps, Kev would manage to hang on to the ball. Yet what I hadn’t noticed previously was the ‘official’ tweet from Doncaster – a team currently residing in the ‘where are they now’ files.

Goal Rovers

— Doncaster Rovers FC (@drfc_official) April 27, 2013

Talk about low key. Not milking the moment. Thanks for sharing that, Ryan. Genuinely. Fair to say that Brentford have had the last laugh.

Yet with all the talk being about Brentford and Doncaster, it seems that people are missing the bigger picture here. Aswell as being five years since that penalty, it was also five years since that awful appearance on Soccer AM. Awful at least in the sense of the Bees supporters, guests on that day’s programme, failing to put away even one effort in the end of show shoot out. A devastatingly bad score of nil points.

Soccer AM. Even HB made a first, off screen, appearance

I can say this with a clean conscience. Regular readers of these pages (should such a concept exist) may well be familiar with the fact that yours truly was also one of the participants. That each of my own efforts was preceded by stacking it into fellow fan JJ – he of the goal inducing dodgy bladder (whenever he goes to the ablutions block mid-game, Brentford score). That we managed the lowest score of any club that season. Possibly ever. Unless somebody has managed minus points.

It was awful. Humiliating. Typical. Not even Natalie Sawyer could save us. Yet, thanks to another penalty, the memory of that day has become a more abiding one. One we can now look back on that bit easier. Not much, but a bit. Besides, long term it would be fair to say that everything has worked out ok.

Even Natalie had a go

 

Ok, Liverpool in Europe. First and foremost, congratulations. What a night for the neutral. What a night for the fans in Rome and back home at Anfield. It was captivating viewing as an early, seemingly insurmountable, four goal aggregate lead for the Reds was slowly reeled in until they emerged triumphant by the odd goal in 13. Real Madrid await in a final that is sure to be equally captivating.

But following this one at home, there was all sorts of confusion. And, for once, not Glenn Hoddle on BT Sport.

3-7(agg) proclaimed the score. What??  No!! This must be some sort of typo. Don’t get brackets wrong. Granted, it may have been a bit more awkward but shouldn’t this have read:  3-7(seven) (agg) ?

When Radja Nainggolan scored his late penalty to make it 6-7(agg) (sic) I was close to self-combustion. One more goal for Roma and I wouldn’t have been responsible for my actions.

7(seven) – 7(seven) (agg) would have been a scoreline to rival the infamous Forfar 5 East Fife 4  – something that I believe may be an urban legend, although as somebody much wiser than me once opined, “Never ruin a good story with the facts”.

In the end, it wasn’t to be. Instead, simply a case of wishing Liverpool the best of luck in the final. It promises to be a cracker. And, likewise, leaves a few weeks to update that bingo card.

An update for the final awaits: 1981, Real Madrid, 13

Nick Bruzon

 

Will Aston Villa distract Brentford from visit of Leeds United ? Thanks, Sky.

Match day. Brentford host Leeds United in a TV game that sees us with the chance to theoretically move as high as ninth in the table. Subject to the small matter of winning and other results going our way. Yet at a time when we should be looking forward to this prospect or enjoying the result from last night’s game that saw Fulham lose (that’s 3 out of the last 4) at Wolves, instead the words on most supporters lips would seem to be Aston Villa. Or Boxing Day.

And if you’d like to read more whilst helping the Brentford FC Community Sports Trust …. the rest of this article can now be found in the Kindle e-book Ten Times Better. Brentford FC Season review: 2017/18. Inspired by ‘that’ interview it contains the least bad of these columns in one, handy volume as it looks at our own campaign as well as wider divisional life and the promotion / relegation races.

As a bonus there’s a whole host of new material. New that is, for my pages. Specifically, all the programme articles submitted (both home and away where, if nothing else, you can get the original versions of both Birmingham City and Millwall).

In addition, There Is No Plan B. Brentford FC Season reviews: 2013/14 – 2017/18 takes us all the way back to the start of this latest leg in the journey. That penalty. League One. Harlee Dean was a hero. Jota was something we thought happened to the temperature for one week in July. Alan Judge had joined on loan whilst the Marinus Experiment was something nobody had contemplated. Bringing things bang up to date by the inclusion of this year’s volume alongside the four previously published campaign round ups, it has five seasons in one weighty tome. As weighty as a download can be, that is.

Relive the memories. See how often the same material gets regurgitated. Remind yourself about the likes of Betinho, Martin Fillo, Javi Venta and Marcos Tebar. Certainly, if there’s no Marcos Tea Bar at Lionel Road it will be an opportunity missed.

All proceeds from any sales will go to the Community Sports Trust. For less than the cost of a half / pint respectively, they may help while away some time on the commute. By the pool on holiday. In the bathroom. Who knows? It will certainly do some good for the Trust, whose work has been well documented at Griffin Park but you can read all about it on their site.

And if that wasn’t enough, I’ve been given something very special. A 2017/18 third team shirt with Lewis Macleod’s squad number on the reverse in the EFL typeface. Anyone with half an interest in Bees kits will know that these were never made available in the club shop.  Anyone who has read any of this before will know what a kit nerd yours truly is so when I say this is rare, take that in good faith!

To be in with a chance of owning it, download a copy of either before the end of June 2018 and you’ll go into a draw to win this. Just DM/tweet me (@NickBruzon) a copy of your purchase confirmation mail and I’ll add your name to the list before selecting a random Bees fan to win this on July 1st.

Nothing says Boxing Day evening like Roger Moore at his best

 

Roy wins Twitter for Friday

s

Nick Bruzon

With Brentford in a Field of Dreams (sorry) here’s one turkey from Christmas past before Cardiff on Boxing Day.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all that. Brentford are preparing to host Cardiff City (for whom Sol Bamba – a terrace songsmith’s dream if there was one – will be missing) whilst Rangers fans will be crying into their sprouts at the prospect of no Jota under the tree. As for Matthew Benham, will he be the beneficiary of a £15million gift from West Bromwich Albion, Aston Villa or even Reading in the New Year sales? This, of course, being the current suggested rate for a Scott Hogan.

Reading have probably got more chance of picking up Hulk Hogan than Scott. Why would he need to even consider going there? Besides, with the Royals already baulking at the prospect of having to pay £9million (as has been reported in the Birmingham Mail), adding another 6 to that is going to be well beyond their particular ball park.

There’s more chance of Hulk than Scott

That is if we even sell in the forthcoming window. Eventually, of course, it will happen. Nobody is that naive whilst the simple mathematics of ‘one club players’ so rarely being a thing these days make it inevitable at some point. Yet in the short term, the tantalising prospect of seeing him and a returning Jota on the same pitch is one I’m still holding out hope for in the second half of this season.

Still, all that is to come. We have the festive games against Cardiff and Norwich City to before that. Scott will surely be the first name on the team sheet (unless he has a sick relative), closely followed by Tom Field. The left back “delighted” at having just signed a contract extension that will see him at Griffin Park until 2020.

For all that Scott is doing it at one end, few could deny the wonderful start that Tom has had to his own Brentford career. From a home debut agasint Fulham where his call up was so unexpected that even supporters were asking ‘Who?‘ when they saw his name on the team sheet, to a recent run in the side as Dean has switched to a three centre back system supported by Tom and Maxime Colin. It is no coincidence that we are yet to concede a goal in the League whilst Tom has been on the pitch.

Tom in a field of dreams. A pun so bad we made it twice

Prior to all of that we have Christmas day ahead of us. Preparations here are remarkably under control with all shopping done (for once). Already I’m dreading that Columbo moment around 3pm when Mrs Bruzon asks for “ Just one more thing…..” from a by then heaving, and empty shelved, supermarket. So until that happens, here’s one we’ve run before but probably deserves another airing.

It is a story that, if being honest, I had completely forgotten about until an article in The Times a few years ago from none other than Mark Clemmit.

Mark, of course, is better known as Clem, the ever popular roving reporter for BT Sport and formerly of the BBC Football League Show. There, his own performance was the subject of a season long analysis in 2014/15 as to whether there is any support for many supporters’ long held belief that he ‘jinxes’ whichever team he follows. Specifically, that the team covered by the man with the mic that week would, at best, pick up a point. Indeed, by season end Clem teams had only tasted victory 7(seven) times out of 30

But we digress. The jinx factor aside, it is fair to say that Clem remains an endearing and well-respected pundit. Aswell as his TV work he has also been a prolific writer over the years and it was for the aforementioned paper that he chose to talk about Brentford a few years back. Or, specifically, what we tried at Christmas 1983

To me, 1983 doesn’t seem that long ago. Knight Rider, Blackadder and the A-Team graced our TV screens whilst big hits at the cinema included Return of the Jedi and Octopussy. On the football pitch, Stan Bowles was strutting his stuff for The Bees whilst Bob Booker was halfway through his first spell at Griffin Park.

That said, given as Bob made his final appearance for us in 1993 that doesn’t really narrow it down, such was the three-decade spanning length of his Brentford career. Even Roger Moore only lasted as Bond for 12 years although for all that I love his time in the role, even I have to step back in slight disbelief at the image, from the official movie poster, of 007 casually standing on the tail of a speeding aeroplane as he tosses a bad guy to his doom.

Roger’s wing walking (top left) a highlight of 1983

But the point being that, to me at least, 1983 still seems very vivid in the mind’s eye. As such, I was intrigued by the gem that Clem had unearthed, pertaining to Brentford’s Christmas fixture list. The ever-progressive club had, at one point, looked to revive an old festive tradition and arrange our game with Wimbledon for 11am on December 25th.

It seems madness now but not as crazy as the reasoning, given out by the Press Officer at the time. It was an attempt to get back to, and I quote, “The old idea of men going to football whilst ladies stayed at home to cook the turkey”.

Seriously? Was this just Clem having a joke at the expense of Brentford fans? Seemingly not. A quick trawl of the interweb reveals this gem elsewhere whilst, more importantly, it is directly referenced in the excellent “100 years of Brentford” book.

After protests from both sets of fans the game was rearranged for Christmas Eve and we promptly lost 3-4 in front of 6,689 fans.

Their numbers, presumably, bolstered by women who had been unchained from their cookers.

Here’s hoping for a better result on Monday against Cardiff City. See you there.

Nick Bruzon