- Oct 17, 2008
- 10,670
The Albion succumbed to a two-nil reverse at home to nice little Brentford, thanks to one Scott Hogan goal in each half. The Hulkster was a constant thorn in our side throughout, brother, and certainly had been taking his vitamins and saying his prayers.
We started with a 4-4-2, lead up-front by the classic old-school big man/bigger man combo of Murray and Hemed. Things began brightly enough, because it was still daylight.
Like an impotent drug dealer, however, for all of our possession, we never looked like penetrating. Anthony Knockhaert proved our most creative outlet in the first half, whilst Murray's movement was encouraging. Meanwhile, Oliver Norwood stood in the centre circle with his hands on his hips and sprayed 25-yard passes to the opposition or into the east stand, like a partially sighted Steven Gerrard.
Defensively, we weren't asked many questions until a Brentford counter attack brought a goal against the run of play in the 29th minute. A long ball played into the inside-left channel found the pace of Hogan who raced away, firing a mediocre low left footed drive in at the near post, via the feet of Stockdale. The keeper was at fault here, his outlandish positioning to blame for a save he really should've made.
His frustration saw him slam the turf in a fit of pique, as Hogan, sans his trademark bandana, "ssshed" the North Stand and all the little visiting Hulkamaniacs rejoiced behind the opposite goal. Sadly, he stopped short of doing the whole finger point, "YOU!" and ear cupping routine.
The Albion rallied, then panicked again, then rallied once more as we almost equalised on the stroke of half time. Tomer Hemed, who I legitimately forgot was playing for about 20 minutes, had a shot superbly blocked on the goal line. From the rebound, he appeared to elbow an opposition defender clean in the face and received a caution. Indeed, Oliver Norwood was so incensed that he put down his newspaper and didn't even finish his second cup of tea, as he packed up his centre-circle picnic table.
Half time: Albion 0 - Brentford 1
The second half started badly and got worse. The former WWF Heavyweight champion was a menace on the break; singing sensation Duffy was no match for his pace and direct running. Curiously, despite him having Duffy and Bruno arse-over-tea-kettle for the entire match, this obvious debacle wasn't addressed by the management. Indeed, Duffy must've wished the sky would fall in - he had a nightmare.
I can't fault the attacking intent[\I] of Chrissy "Chris" Hughton's line up and mentality. Lining up at goal kicks and such in the second half, the formation became a flat 4-2-4 with Knockers, Murphy, Murray and Hemed square across the front line.
The introduction of Elvis Manu and the effect of the floodlights brightened things up, indeed he looked very sharp when he replaced Hemed, who had a shocker. It'd be fair to say that Manu hasn't developed a burning love within the Albion fanbase yet, but he certainly was no worse than Hemed today. A lot of people have said that he's:
1. For the money and
2. For the show.
But I see no evidence of this. In fact, he should have had a penalty after only a few minutes on the pitch. The referee, the ******* love child of Danny Devito and Kevin Spacey, saw it otherwise and booked Elvis for diving. It was a really, really poor decision and the Albion players and fans were royally ****ed off. Minutes later Manu was in danger of a second booking, involved a clattering midfield challenge which almost saw Elvis leave the building prematurely.
Sadly, by now Brentford had us by the curlies and were ripping through our midfield and defence at will. Their second goal came from another Stockdale error, this time managing to slice a backpass straight to the opposition, who snapped up the opportunity like a job seeking crocodile in the north east.
As time dragged on (and I mean dragged) it became painfully clear that it was going to be one of those days. When the ball arrived at the back post and an unmarked Murphy, he somehow conspired to blaze the ball back across the goal and out for a throw in. He was subsequently substituted and, in what I like to consider a stealth "take that" to the Scotsman, the announcer called him "Jamie Murray" over the public address system.
A very bad day at the office for the Albion. A poor performance against a well-organised Brentford side and a deserved defeat.
We started with a 4-4-2, lead up-front by the classic old-school big man/bigger man combo of Murray and Hemed. Things began brightly enough, because it was still daylight.
Like an impotent drug dealer, however, for all of our possession, we never looked like penetrating. Anthony Knockhaert proved our most creative outlet in the first half, whilst Murray's movement was encouraging. Meanwhile, Oliver Norwood stood in the centre circle with his hands on his hips and sprayed 25-yard passes to the opposition or into the east stand, like a partially sighted Steven Gerrard.
Defensively, we weren't asked many questions until a Brentford counter attack brought a goal against the run of play in the 29th minute. A long ball played into the inside-left channel found the pace of Hogan who raced away, firing a mediocre low left footed drive in at the near post, via the feet of Stockdale. The keeper was at fault here, his outlandish positioning to blame for a save he really should've made.
His frustration saw him slam the turf in a fit of pique, as Hogan, sans his trademark bandana, "ssshed" the North Stand and all the little visiting Hulkamaniacs rejoiced behind the opposite goal. Sadly, he stopped short of doing the whole finger point, "YOU!" and ear cupping routine.
The Albion rallied, then panicked again, then rallied once more as we almost equalised on the stroke of half time. Tomer Hemed, who I legitimately forgot was playing for about 20 minutes, had a shot superbly blocked on the goal line. From the rebound, he appeared to elbow an opposition defender clean in the face and received a caution. Indeed, Oliver Norwood was so incensed that he put down his newspaper and didn't even finish his second cup of tea, as he packed up his centre-circle picnic table.
Half time: Albion 0 - Brentford 1
The second half started badly and got worse. The former WWF Heavyweight champion was a menace on the break; singing sensation Duffy was no match for his pace and direct running. Curiously, despite him having Duffy and Bruno arse-over-tea-kettle for the entire match, this obvious debacle wasn't addressed by the management. Indeed, Duffy must've wished the sky would fall in - he had a nightmare.
I can't fault the attacking intent[\I] of Chrissy "Chris" Hughton's line up and mentality. Lining up at goal kicks and such in the second half, the formation became a flat 4-2-4 with Knockers, Murphy, Murray and Hemed square across the front line.
The introduction of Elvis Manu and the effect of the floodlights brightened things up, indeed he looked very sharp when he replaced Hemed, who had a shocker. It'd be fair to say that Manu hasn't developed a burning love within the Albion fanbase yet, but he certainly was no worse than Hemed today. A lot of people have said that he's:
1. For the money and
2. For the show.
But I see no evidence of this. In fact, he should have had a penalty after only a few minutes on the pitch. The referee, the ******* love child of Danny Devito and Kevin Spacey, saw it otherwise and booked Elvis for diving. It was a really, really poor decision and the Albion players and fans were royally ****ed off. Minutes later Manu was in danger of a second booking, involved a clattering midfield challenge which almost saw Elvis leave the building prematurely.
Sadly, by now Brentford had us by the curlies and were ripping through our midfield and defence at will. Their second goal came from another Stockdale error, this time managing to slice a backpass straight to the opposition, who snapped up the opportunity like a job seeking crocodile in the north east.
As time dragged on (and I mean dragged) it became painfully clear that it was going to be one of those days. When the ball arrived at the back post and an unmarked Murphy, he somehow conspired to blaze the ball back across the goal and out for a throw in. He was subsequently substituted and, in what I like to consider a stealth "take that" to the Scotsman, the announcer called him "Jamie Murray" over the public address system.
A very bad day at the office for the Albion. A poor performance against a well-organised Brentford side and a deserved defeat.