Soul Limbo: Wrexham Report

Grimsby Town 1 Wrexham 3
20 Jan 2004, Nationwide League Division 2

A rancid atmosphere? Not really. The vocal fury was limited, isolated, with the singing ringing tree corner drowning out the "sack everyone" brigade with a lusty chant of "Paul Groves’ Black and White Army". Cue internal bickering in the Pontoon, not within the singers themselves, though I wouldn’t rule it out, they looked very tortured.

Town lined up in the usual 4-4-2 formation, as shown. Ah, Crowe restored to what he considers his rightful position, central midfield, with Young at left back. Jevons started on the right and Anderson on the left, completing the latest bit of pack shufflage, or deckchair arranging, whatever you metaphor of choice.

Wrexham had a couple of porky big boys at the back, and lined up with wing backs. Some chuckled at their right wing back, Carlos Edwards, sporting some seriously funky base-player-in-a-Brummy-disco-band-from-1975 hair, complete with invisible tank top, but that was the last time they chuckled at him.

1st half

Town kicked off towards the 70 or so dark dots in the Osmond Stand, with the ball worked slowly to McDermott, who punted up the line and Town got a throw in. Isn’t it far simpler just to welly it out from the kick off? Within a minute, Town managed to mess things up, with Young under hitting a pass back to Edwards, setting Wrexham up on a chase down their right. Our Edwards managed to smack the ball out for a throw in near the Police Box. Hairy moments in the Wonderland Zoo.

Wrexham were playing some neat one touch football, breaking quickly down their flanks, with Ferguson tapping out a tempo. Though no chances were being created, there was danger. Cross after cross zoomed in, with Ford and our Edwards hacking the ball away from the centre of the penalty area. Town wobbled, rocked, staggered and just about got away with it. Young was increasingly isolated and flapping, with Anderson not helping him. Things weren’t much better on the right, with McDermott shrinking by the game these days, left to fend for himself as Jevons was content with some showy flicks and tricks further upfield.

Occasionally, Town passes went to Town players. I stress the word occasionally. Town were devoid of pattern, confidence, personality, a collection of timid individuals getting wet. But lo, a shot. Well, ish. Jevons backflipped the ball down the right touchline, setting someone on a raid down the wing. Sorry, can’t remember who, it may have been Boulding. Whoever it was scampered to the bye-line, passed to Onuora at the near post, who turned, shielded the ball, and rolled it just behind the onrushing Boulding. A little stutter, stumble, turn and shot straight at Officer Dibble. Around the same time Jevons drifted across the face of the penalty area and did what is fashionably called a reverse pass into a gap between centre backs and left back. Onuora gathered up his knitting, the Leviathan stirred. Iffy rolled past Carey, a man with serial killer hair, if not kaleidoscope eyes, and slowly creaked towards goal. Dibble didn’t so much race off his line as arrive through osmosis to collect the ball.