U's:2 Brewers:1 part two
Right, back to last night. I must confess there's a part of me that wishes that the season could've just ended there and then. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Wembley will be great, but if we don't win it will be a shame to see the season end on a low note having enjoyed such a wonderful high yesterday. Why can't they just promote us and Exeter and get rid of some non-league rubbish like Accrington or Macclesfield? Bring back re-election, that's what I say.
The other thing is I'm not sure how I'm going to cope. At half time in last nights game I was actually feeling physically sick at the prospect of us getting this far and cocking up, and it's not going to get easier in the final is it? And what if it goes to penalties? I don't even want to contemplate that potential horror.
I'm not usually one to get into the sort of my dad's bigger than your dad comparisons a lot of people like to endulge in regarding support, but it was a bit disappointing to see that only about 800 followers of NCBA turned for what was surely one of the biggest games in their history. There was still a cracking atmosphere inside the Abbey, with all three banks of home fans in good voice.
The Burtonites who did travel were probably wishing they'd stayed at home when Kevin Poole was fishing the ball out of his net within the first minute. In one of the few positive contributions he made to the match, Magno-inho won possession almost straight from kick off and drew a free kick from a Brewers defender. This was flighted into the edge of the box and eventually found Evil. Although Poole turned his shot onto the post, the rebound rolled into the middle of the goal, where Wolleaston was on hand to gleefully ram the ball into the empty net. What a start, 1-0.
Again I have to say I wasn't convinced by Jimmy's team selection. With Carden and Brown in the centre of the park there was a distinctly cagey look about our midfield, and with Gleese and Pitt occupied on defensive duties, the front two got more and more isolated as the match wore on, with only Wolly providing sporadic support. It's also fair to say that the players looked a bit nervous, and Burton took full advantage. They had been dominating possession for some moments before they equalised; Shaun Harrad was left unattended to flick on a corner from the right, and Daryl Clare pounced to score from close range. Not good defending at all. 1-1.
It looked like only a matter of time before Burton scored again, but luckily Harrad was in particularly wasteful mood. He raced into the box shortly after Clare's goal, only to be denied by a fantastic last ditch tackle by Mark Albrighton. The same player was also thwarted twice by excellent saves from Danny Potter, while Burton almost profitted from a mix up which saw Peters head the ball out of his keepers hand. Perhaps the big Welshman's hearing is failing him in his old age.
United had a couple of corners before half time which came to nothing, while Magno went looking for a penalty but earnt only a yellow card for what looked like, frankly, a rubbish dive. The half time whistle, and brief respite it brought, was a welcome sound indeed.
But one accusation which can never be levelled at this remarkable team of ours is a lack of resolve. And, inspired by one of JQ's magic team talks, they roared out of the traps in the second period. Having said that, we could have fallen behind early on when ex-Scum pensioner Dave Farrell looped in a cross which was ever so slightly overhit, meaning the inrushing Corbett could only guide an angled shot into Potter's grateful arms.
At the other end, Gleeson got free on the right and sent over a much better pass. Magno met it with a header which looked to be looping into the top corner until Poole leapt across to bely his advancing years with a fantastic parry over the bar. The resulting corner was met by the big forehead of Peters, who did well to keep his header down but saw it kiss the top of the bar with Poole looking on nervously. Gleeson was also denied by the veteran keeper when his point blank header was saved at the foot of the post, and at that stage the prospect of extra time loomed ominously.
Then the magic moment arrived. A Pitt cross was retrieved by Evil, who laid the ball off to Wolly. He got to the byline and sent in a shot/cross which flew/looped over the Helpless/flat footed Poole and landed in the far corner. 2-1.
Now the Abbey was rocking again, but Burton staged a brief rally, with another corner skipping across the six yard line like guided missile until it was hacked away from the goal by a defender. We'll need to work on our defending of set pieces before the final. Apart from that, United continued to dominate, and could've added to our lead and ensured a less tense finish. But then again, where's the achievement in doing things the easy way? Pitt was NCBA's tormentor in chief, especially after Reedy joined the action in place of Brown. Several crosses narrowly missed their targets in the centre, while the dervish-like winger also tested Poole was a angled shot that was pawed away.
We were also treated to a sight which I thought (and hoped) I'd never see again, which was the Dinosaur-like features and birdish limbs of the Lemu in a United shirt. He and Boylan replaced Mango and Evil in the closing stages, and did an admirable job of holding the ball up and playing out time. LFW even went agonisingly close to an injury time goal, turning his defender cleverly but seeing his shot tipped away by the excellent Poole. One last charge from Burton was halted by a massive clearance from Peters before Mr Mallarky put us out of our misery and blew the final whistle, a moment that was greeted by a massive roar of joy and relief.
At first it seemed like everyone was going to heed the pre-match warning and stay off the pitch. But then a few people leapt over the hoardings, then a few more, and eventually the stewards just opened the gates and let the amber nation ((c)Mark Johnson) spill onto the hallowed turf. I imagine Ian Darler was lurking, scrooge-like, in his control box, weeping softly as his beloved pitch was trampled by the bouncing masses.
The other thing is I'm not sure how I'm going to cope. At half time in last nights game I was actually feeling physically sick at the prospect of us getting this far and cocking up, and it's not going to get easier in the final is it? And what if it goes to penalties? I don't even want to contemplate that potential horror.
I'm not usually one to get into the sort of my dad's bigger than your dad comparisons a lot of people like to endulge in regarding support, but it was a bit disappointing to see that only about 800 followers of NCBA turned for what was surely one of the biggest games in their history. There was still a cracking atmosphere inside the Abbey, with all three banks of home fans in good voice.
The Burtonites who did travel were probably wishing they'd stayed at home when Kevin Poole was fishing the ball out of his net within the first minute. In one of the few positive contributions he made to the match, Magno-inho won possession almost straight from kick off and drew a free kick from a Brewers defender. This was flighted into the edge of the box and eventually found Evil. Although Poole turned his shot onto the post, the rebound rolled into the middle of the goal, where Wolleaston was on hand to gleefully ram the ball into the empty net. What a start, 1-0.
Again I have to say I wasn't convinced by Jimmy's team selection. With Carden and Brown in the centre of the park there was a distinctly cagey look about our midfield, and with Gleese and Pitt occupied on defensive duties, the front two got more and more isolated as the match wore on, with only Wolly providing sporadic support. It's also fair to say that the players looked a bit nervous, and Burton took full advantage. They had been dominating possession for some moments before they equalised; Shaun Harrad was left unattended to flick on a corner from the right, and Daryl Clare pounced to score from close range. Not good defending at all. 1-1.
It looked like only a matter of time before Burton scored again, but luckily Harrad was in particularly wasteful mood. He raced into the box shortly after Clare's goal, only to be denied by a fantastic last ditch tackle by Mark Albrighton. The same player was also thwarted twice by excellent saves from Danny Potter, while Burton almost profitted from a mix up which saw Peters head the ball out of his keepers hand. Perhaps the big Welshman's hearing is failing him in his old age.
United had a couple of corners before half time which came to nothing, while Magno went looking for a penalty but earnt only a yellow card for what looked like, frankly, a rubbish dive. The half time whistle, and brief respite it brought, was a welcome sound indeed.
But one accusation which can never be levelled at this remarkable team of ours is a lack of resolve. And, inspired by one of JQ's magic team talks, they roared out of the traps in the second period. Having said that, we could have fallen behind early on when ex-Scum pensioner Dave Farrell looped in a cross which was ever so slightly overhit, meaning the inrushing Corbett could only guide an angled shot into Potter's grateful arms.
At the other end, Gleeson got free on the right and sent over a much better pass. Magno met it with a header which looked to be looping into the top corner until Poole leapt across to bely his advancing years with a fantastic parry over the bar. The resulting corner was met by the big forehead of Peters, who did well to keep his header down but saw it kiss the top of the bar with Poole looking on nervously. Gleeson was also denied by the veteran keeper when his point blank header was saved at the foot of the post, and at that stage the prospect of extra time loomed ominously.
Then the magic moment arrived. A Pitt cross was retrieved by Evil, who laid the ball off to Wolly. He got to the byline and sent in a shot/cross which flew/looped over the Helpless/flat footed Poole and landed in the far corner. 2-1.
Now the Abbey was rocking again, but Burton staged a brief rally, with another corner skipping across the six yard line like guided missile until it was hacked away from the goal by a defender. We'll need to work on our defending of set pieces before the final. Apart from that, United continued to dominate, and could've added to our lead and ensured a less tense finish. But then again, where's the achievement in doing things the easy way? Pitt was NCBA's tormentor in chief, especially after Reedy joined the action in place of Brown. Several crosses narrowly missed their targets in the centre, while the dervish-like winger also tested Poole was a angled shot that was pawed away.
We were also treated to a sight which I thought (and hoped) I'd never see again, which was the Dinosaur-like features and birdish limbs of the Lemu in a United shirt. He and Boylan replaced Mango and Evil in the closing stages, and did an admirable job of holding the ball up and playing out time. LFW even went agonisingly close to an injury time goal, turning his defender cleverly but seeing his shot tipped away by the excellent Poole. One last charge from Burton was halted by a massive clearance from Peters before Mr Mallarky put us out of our misery and blew the final whistle, a moment that was greeted by a massive roar of joy and relief.At first it seemed like everyone was going to heed the pre-match warning and stay off the pitch. But then a few people leapt over the hoardings, then a few more, and eventually the stewards just opened the gates and let the amber nation ((c)Mark Johnson) spill onto the hallowed turf. I imagine Ian Darler was lurking, scrooge-like, in his control box, weeping softly as his beloved pitch was trampled by the bouncing masses.
I don't know about anyone else but I've never been part of a pitch invasion before and didn't really know what to do with myself. After a few minutes of charging around happily, we congregated in front of the main stand where the players and staff led a triumphant chorus of "We're going to wem-ber-lee." It doesn't get much better does it? Actually, lets hope it does.
Man of the Match: Courtney Pitt - As usual the Pittster gave his all for the cause, but for once he had consistant end product to match his endeavour. Sign him up for next season Jimmy!
Dance of the Match: Mong Boy – Need I say more?
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