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01/05 Brentford Part 2

By: Tony Butcher
Date: 02/05/2004

TOWN were unable to get out of their own half, for the referee kept giving Brentford free kicks, which allowed them to constantly pump the ball into the area. Pressure, pressure; Town twanging; the crowd a raging fury; the rafters creaking and retreating.

Home > 2003-2004 Season > Reports > Brentford (h)

Grimsby Town 1 Brentford 0
01 May 2004, Nationwide League Division 2

In about the fifth minute Crowe tackled Hunt, who dived over a leg that used to be there. Another free kick, again about 30 yards out towards the Smiths/Stones/Findus stand. The ball was pumped in, several players fell over, with Edwards having his shorts pulled down and funny faces pulled at him. Sonko staggered inside the 6 yards box, the ball wobbled through the area and drifted slowly towards the bottom left hand corner. Fettis, brilliantly, marvellously, superbly, arched down, clawing and scooping the ball from behind him and off the line. Crane moved all of his buttocks and lashed the ball away before a Brentfordian boot arrived. The Town players railed at the referee for ignoring the several fouls committed inside the area and Campbell had a long conversation. Perhaps he was offering to raise the Brentford bid by £100.

Whatever he said it worked, for Town started to get positive results from their enquiries. Rankin bullied his way through several white shorts before lashing a shot goalwards from a central position, about 25 yards out. The ball hit Sonko and a free kick was given to Town. Brentford constructed less of a wall, more a disorganised line dance, with a huge gap right in the middle, filled by the referee, who then proceeded to hold play up by organising the defence himself. Barnard took two steps and caressed the ball up and against the forehead of the smaller of the blond haired defenders, with the ball deflecting a few yards wide of the left hand post. The corner was whacked way beyond the far post, Crane headed back and out to Coldicott in the centre. There was a nanosecond of excitement as Coldicott’s left boot moved towards the ball, but he completely miss-kicked.

Town again churning down the left with a succession of punts down the "channels". Mansaram chased, twisted and turned, crossing through the area. Lawrence flicked, Jevons wellied and the ball suddenly dropped down vertically as it moved goalwards. Handball? Wasn’t given. Whoosh, Coldicott swept up the rebound and, from the centre and edge of the penalty area, sliced a shot across the ’keeper. Nelson plunged to his left and plucked the ball from the sky. It looked spectacular, though the shot was probably swerving wide. Again Town, more Town, driving on, forcing Brentford back through sheer ferocious, desperate will. The plan seemed to be turn ‘em round and chase ‘em down. Not pretty, not football. Mansaram, in an inside left position with his back to goal, levered himself around his marker and, from about 10 yards wide of goal and at a narrow angle, smooched a shot wide and high of the near post.

A quarter of an hour gone and a breathless, frenetic and ferocious fight was being observed by a baying mass. But still goalless. Oh-oh, a Fitzgerald miss-kick inside his own area went straight to Tabb, who turned and ran down the middle of the pitch. On he went, past the half way line, with team mates sprinting up in support, intelligently running across and wide. A huge gap opened up and Barnard chased, simply legging him up 30 yards out, right in the middle. Out came both a yellow card and all that nervous tension in the crowd. Brentford took an age to work out how to mess it up. A tap sideways, a roll back and Hunt carefully placed the ball into Fettis’ midriff. Pfft, rubbish.

More Town: Crowe to Campbell, a cross from near the corner flag and Jevons, at the near post, headed high and wide. A minute later Rankin received the ball just inside the Town half, rolled, rolled and rolled again past, through and under several attempted muggings.

Barnardyellow card


Hockless66 mins


Nigel Miller
(Co Durham)


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Onwards, past two more defenders, into the penalty area and...he disappeared from view, surrounded by red and white stripes, emerging on the turf, surfing his way towards the bye-line. Another penalty claim sniffed away. It looked, from afar, like a very unnatural way to fall, and to think it had taken him 40 yards to decided how and where he would tumble. C’mon lad, you can do better than that.

Another attack, another shot. The ball was pumped up to Mansaram about 25 yards out on the centre right who, in his own mind, controlled the ball. He turned and leathered a thwacking great shot across the ‘keeper, who rather excellently flew to his right and parried the ball aside for a corner. Aside from a Jevons soft little half cross, half shot and a Coldicott attempted dribbler through a crowd of legs, that was it from Town. The gas was turned off. Brentford began to repel the waved of monochrome raiders with increasing ease. After 25 minutes the game went silent, flat; tension rising, the Town players began to pass the ball to Brentford. No, that’s unkind. Crowe began to pass the ball straight to Brentford: he had a shocker. Not only was his distribution dreadful, but his defending was dozy, daydreaming dross. Brentford cottoned on to this and started to lump the ball over and between Crane and Crowe. Cue a few head in hands moments as the gruesome twosome dawdled and left it to each other to miss the ball.

Luckily the Bees buzzed but didn’t plunge their spikes into the Town flesh. There was always Edwards and Fettis around. All hail the Hullites? Does rather hurt to think it, doesn’t it. Brentford only had one attempt at goal worth remembering (ie, that I can remember) when, after a long Sonko throw, the ball bumbled about with May, about 6 yards out, hitting an overhead kick against the cross bar. But he was offside anyway, so even that doesn’t count as an effort. Ah, those long hot Sonko throw-ins. Every one huge, looping and each time he had his foot on the pitch. Don’t these linesmen listen to us? What is going on, eh?

Coldicott sent Jevons free with a back heel. He’ll be doing step-overs next. And growing hair.

The Brentford fans filled the aural vacuum with hearty songs of their own, which sounded like "Queens Park Rangers FC, by far the greatest team..." How jolly decent of them to recognise the Loftus Roaders’ impending promotion. Or is it that waxy build up affecting my earsight?

Another long whack by Town down the left, the ball drifting towards the edge of the penalty area, along, along, going, going...Mansaram sprinted after it and Sonko ran parallel, shielding the ball from the avid pursuer. Mansaram waved his arms around, doing the mash potato, and the ref gave Town a free kick on the corner of the penalty area. Jevons caused teenage girls and men of a certain shoe size to faint as he applied some basic trigonometry to the moment. Cosine is adjacent over hypotenuse, which means the free kick was an aardvark, curled two or three feet high.

And just before half time Jevons had another chance to fritter and waste his talent in an offhand way. Another surprising bit of bumblage resulted in the ball squirting out to Jevons, alone, 25 yards out. The ball bounced once, bounced high, and Jevons took time to sketch out a few thoughts on a notepad, constructing some juicy quotes to explain how he scored such a wondergoal. He completely miss-hit the shot. It went high, high, high, and dropped, red with embarrassment, onto the back of the net, via the scoreboard.

Half time: Grimsby Town 0 Brentford 0

And then the half was over.

Yes, that’s it, the first half, all the action that’s fit to print. Everything else was Kendo Nagasaki Coldicott versus Big Daddy Hutchinson. Two bald bruisers going eye to eye, toe to toe, like a modern day Indoor League. Put on your slippers and ill fitting cardigan - I’ll si thee in the second half.

Stu's Half Time Toilet Talk

"It doesn’t work if you smile."
"Why do we have to play the whole season when it always rests on the last two games?"
"I don’t want to kill my china pig."
"Lawrence is what Hamilton was supposed to be."
"Those four Brentford fans stood together look like a windbreak."

The report continues in the Second Half.

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