Sunday 18th May 2008 - U's 0-1 Exeter: 2009 Dress Rehearsal Goes Quite Well
We've all seen them. No sooner has the final whistle blown than the camera zooms in on them: the weepers, the sobbers, the bawlers and the blubbers. The tears flow down their flushed pink cheeks as they slump into their seats or a loved one's arms, or just stand alone, bereft and desolate, howling for their mothers. A few of them are even children. And you watch them with a mixture of pity, amusement and disgust, and you think, I'd never do that.
Then it happens to you.
Yes, amber tears were shed at Wembley on Sunday. Tears of deflation at a good season ruined; tears of disappointment at a dream dashed; tears of frustration at the prospect of another year in the Bargain Basement League. But hopefully there were some tears of fierce pride in there too: pride in a truly memorable season, pride in a club, a team and a band of supporters which are amongst the very best in the land.
It was the largest gathering of United supporters in the club's long and eventful history. From the four corners of the globe they came, singing and chanting their presence through the streets, the pubs, the rail and the tube stations of London, turning heads at every corner. Everywhere you looked there were familiar and unfamiliar faces from the present and the past, the regulars and the lapsed, the occasionals and the newbies, sporting U's regalia from every season from the present right back to the early Seventies. I particularly enjoyed the yellow-and-black hat shaped like a foaming pint of beer which had surely lain unworn in the back of the wearer's wardrobe since the promotion campaign of 1973. There are some things even moths won't touch.
It was only upon exiting Wembley Park tube station, however, and casting one's gaze upon Wembley Way, that the sheer scale of the day hit you. A vast sea of black-and-amber and red-and-white seemed to float, bobbing, towards that magnificent stadium with its gleaming white arch slashed across the blue sky studded with scudding grey clouds. The hubbub of conversation and expectancy hung in the air, along with the ululations of the unofficial merchandise sellers (there's a rarity for a U's match) and the even less familiar passing murmurs of the occasional touts: "Tickets? Anyone want tickets?"
Acquaintances were made and re-made, cheery greetings offered and reciprocated, experiences recounted and memories shared. It was Abbey Friends Reunited. Yes, United had been to Wembley before, eighteen long years ago in an entirely more innocent age when the Beck-team legend was only in its infancy, and the more recent Millennium Stadium visit was still fresh in the minds of the many who flocked to Cardiff in 2002. But this was in another league altogether, both literally and in terms of scale and importance. To the victors would go the kudos of renewed Football League membership and the glamour of rubbing shoulders with Luton, Bournemouth, Darlington and, er, Accrington Stanley. For the losers, another year in the esteemed company of Crawley, Histon, Salisbury and Stevenage. And Barrow. Lewes? Eastbourne??!
Excitement and anticipation mounted once more when we were inside the stadium. The sun shone down on an awe-inspiring bowl of red seats, luxuriant green pitch and an ever-growing army of United supporters at one end of the ground, dazzling as the light beamed off their amber colours and assorted paraphernalia of flags, balloons and banners. Soon the players emerged, blinking in the light, to roars of approval and the first tentative 'bounces' of the day and they started their warmup while attempting to calm their nerves. When Sir Laurence Olivier was asked how he dealt with pre-play tension, he replied that he got butterflies like anyone else; he just learned to make them fly in formation.
Today's formation was to be 3-5-2 as JQ stuck with the system which was so successful in the early part of the season, the only change from the win over Burton at the Abbey being the introduction of Lee Boylan for Magno Vieira. Danny Brown retained his place in central midfield despite his distinctly below-par recent performances in that position. For Exeter, former U's striker Richard Logan (five games on loan from Ipswich in 2000-01, one goal, thanks for asking) started up front alongside Adam Stansfield, with ex-United youngster Matt Gill in midfield and 2006 pre-season trialist Wayne Carlisle on the bench.
The United players finished their fairly low-impact warmup before their Exeter counterparts and left their half of the pitch to the substitutes as they retreated to the dressing-room and the manager's words of wisdom. Back out on the pitch, the finalists of Blue Square's keepy-uppy competition trooped out, including representatives of both United and City, although the final was an entirely different beast, a challenge to chip a football into a blue plastic square plonked on the halfway line from one end of the pitch. Just one attempt each, no preparation. I reckon even Colin Alcide, sorry, Cristiano Ronaldo would have struggled with that, so the prize money went unclaimed.
Good old Dion was there to cheer on his old club, while the Grecians countered with Ade Edmondson, Jennifer Saunders and some bloke from the Hoosiers. Pah! Not in the same class.
A steady flow of supporters streamed into their luxurious padded seats (fancy!) as kick-off time edged ever nearer, having been relieved of vast sums of money for over-priced drinks and extremely mediocre food, then having their hands nearly blown off by the most powerful hand driers in the whole world. You get much better food at Kidderminster, but have to make do with a good shake of the wrist after your toilet. Although the top tier remained closed, the atmosphere continued to build impressively until, a few minutes before four, it was time. The muddy, bass-heavy PA cranked up to a crescendo as the players filed out to a twin blast of fire from two vertical flame-throwers, and the amber hordes unleashed a stupendous blizzard of yellow pages which filled the air for minutes to come, fluttering, twisting and turning like a million paper butterflies in the sunlight. Accompanied by the almighty roar of the crowd, it was a truly awesome sight.
Yours truly is not the greatest fan of "God Save The Queen," a fairly dreary dirge at the best of times - give me "Land Of Hope And Glory" any day - but when the entire stadium started belting it out at the tops of their voices I could not help but be carried away with the moment and joined in with gusto, if not much tunefulness. Then the team introductions were made and the two elevens broke away, doubtless with relief, to prepare for the start of the biggest match of their lives. United's now traditional huddle was greeted with a roar by the amber hordes which rose to a crescendo as they split up and took up positions. This is it. Come on!
Early exchanges were understandably as cautious as a kitten tiptoeing through a compound full of Rottweilers, and Exeter swiftly set out their stall to retain possession as much as possible, carefully passing it around at the back and only venturing forward when the pass was a certainty.
It was not hard to guess that set pieces would play an important part in the day's proceedings, and a foul on Stansfield by Courtney Pitt on 7 presented City with a free-kick which was swung in by Dean Moxey for Logan at the far post to nod wide. In the opposing area, the busy Boylan ran on to a Lee McEvilly flick-on and almost nicked the ball away from keeper Paul Jones, eventually cleared by George Friend.
United's first corner came on 10, floated over by Rob Wolleaston, but in a preview of Exeter's aerial prowess for the next eighty minutes, it was comfortably cleared by Matt Taylor. Play ebbed and flowed, a Rob Edwards shot flying wide for City before McEvilly gained the U's another flag-kick, this time dealt with by Friend. Gill slammed a scudder wide on 16, then Ryan Harley blasted some way over two minutes later.
Exeter had settled the better, keeping their passes simple and short, and with wing-backs Pitt and Dan Gleeson pushed back by their opponents' pressure, United's three central midfielders were being given something of a runaround, Brown looking lost while only Paul Carden was giving as good as he was getting.
The Grecians' early superiority told on 23, and as so often this season, the breakthrough arose through a pretty basic corner. Wayne Hatswell conceded it fairly cheaply, Moxey curled it over with pace and whip, it got a head-height flick-on at the near post, and it flew across the six-yard box for Edwards to run onto unmarked and ram his stooping header home from close range past United's men on the line. One to give defensive coaches nightmares: 1-0.
Part one of their game plan achieved, Exeter guarded the ball as jealously as an MP keeps the details of their expenses as United reeled from the blow and tried desperately to regroup. Their most likely outlet looked to be Pitt, who was in teasing mood down the left, although his distribution was characteristically varied.
Just after the half-hour the U's began to rally with some of the spirit that has so fortified them and us this season. Pitt's corner found Hatswell at the far post, and his goalward downward header was nodded away by Taylor in front of his keeper. Wolleaston swung in the second flag-kick, but it only found the grasping gloves of Jones, attired in a shocking fluorescent orange jersey which could probably be spotted from space. In contrast, Danny Potter sported a tasteful all-red ensemble.
Hatswell was the provider on 37, a decent forward run down the left channel with Pitt outside him culminating in a cross which found Gleeson cutting across the box, but his toepoke flew narrowly over the angle. Another Pitt corner on 41 was headed away by Taylor as United maintained the unswerving predictability of their set pieces, invariably floated towards the far post to where the 'big men' were making runs. A little variety doesn't hurt, you know.
Exeter responded with a Moxey shot well wide on 43, but United had the last word of the half when Pitt crossed low for Wolleaston, and his on-target shot clipped the heels of City skipper Danny Seaborne and deflected off for another corner, which was inevitably nodded clear by Taylor.
Both sides were applauded from the field, but if all had gone well for the men from Devon, nothing had gone to plan for the U's. Too many players looked below-par, presumably a little overawed by the occasion, and although Carden had tried manfully to carry the midfield, his lack of support had meant precious little quality supply to a front two which had fed on the most meagre of scraps. They had come back from a goal behind many times this season; how was their bouncebackability today?
The amber hordes sensed that twelfth-man presence was needed now more than ever and gave their heroes a rousing welcome as the sun tried to fight back from behind the clouds as United needed to fight back from behind their opponents' defensive blanket. The boys in black and amber made a decent restart, and although Moxey found the net on 49, he had long since been flagged offside.
Neither keeper had had a serious save to make thus far, Potter stranded for the goal, but Carden almost made Jones work on 51, ploughing forward before shooting low past the far post as the man in bollard-orange tried to get a hand to it. Three minutes later McEvilly won a rare flick-on header which ran to Boylan, and in a trice he had turned and shot just the wrong side of the post from twenty yards.
United had Exeter on the back foot, but were struggling for that killer final ball. With Pitt now marshalled by two men on the left after his dangerous forays in the first half, Gleeson regularly found himself in space on the opposite flank, but United's passing and build-up play were simply too ponderous to take advantage. Given Exeter's superiority in the air, what was needed was some forays down the wing to the byline and a searching cross or two low across the box, but Gleeson seemed unwilling or unable to get down the outside and Pitt was now crowded out of the game.
The U's were crying out for inspiration, for creativity, for something different. They could have changed the predictable formation, they could have made a change; on the bench they had a defender (Michael Morrison), a defensive midfielder (Stephen Reed), a target man (Leo Fortune-West), a speed merchant (Magno Vieira) and one intelligent, ball-playing striker-cum-link man: Mark Beesley. Guess who would not be getting on.
On the hour Gleeson curled another deep cross disappointingly out of play from out by the right touchline, and as United pressed, Exeter began to find gaps to exploit at the back when they had the opportunity to break forward. On 63 Harley sent Logan away, but with no defender closing him down, he lashed a lame shot wide of the far post from fifteen yards out.
Four minutes later came United's first change. It was no surprise that Brown, out of his depth and anonymous in the middle, should be replaced, but his like-for-like replacement by Reed did not inspire hope that some sort of radical breakthrough could result. Potter proved his worth on 69, Gill's powerful 25-yard skimmer not only stopped but held safely by United's No.1, then at the other end Hatswell crossed for McEvilly but he could only spoon a header over.
JQ made another like-for-like change on 70, Vieira coming on for Boylan, whose runs had been mainly ignored by United's sluggish midfield. The only yellow card of the day soon followed, Gleeson for a clumsy foul on Moxey, but the Cantabrigian wing-back cleared the ensuing free-kick himself.
Vieira's first contribution was dramatic and just the sort of thing for which JQ had been looking. He received the ball facing his own goal in the centre circle with Taylor at his back, dropped a shoulder, turned and sprinted like a weasel with its tail on fire down the right channel, leaving Taylor trailing in his wake. His eventual cross was disappointing, falling behind his two colleagues in the box, but Reed arrived on the edge of the box and fired for goal. For a delicious, briefest of brief split second it looked like booming into the net, but a heavy deflection off Steve Tully slowed it right down and allowed the relieved Jones to catch with ease.
Seconds later United almost shot themselves in the foot when some 'After you, Claude' faffing between Marks Peters and Albrighton allows Stansfield to nick the ball between them and hare after his through ball to himself as Potter sprinted from his line to intercept, but DP did just enough to put the City striker off and his feeble dive in the box wouldn't have fooled John Hopkins. OK, perhaps it would have. All right, it definitely would have, unless the striker was a U's player, in which case he would have been sent off. Stansfield got off card-free.
United, still firing on only two cylinders but determined to give it a bloody good go, came nearest to equalising on 74. Reed's cross into the area was fumbled by the unconvincing Jones, it fell to Peters ten yards out, and his goalward prod was in all the way until last man Taylor hacked it desperately off the line. In such moments are seasons decided.
Fifteen minutes to go. One substitution left. But who? The subtlety of Beesley was overlooked in favour of the blunt instrument that is LFW, who in fairness made a good impression against Burton... although then, of course, United were protecting a lead, not chasing a deficit. So Route One it was, then. City centre-backs Seaborne and Taylor had defended stoically all day, so the wisdom of JQ's strategy had a quarter of an hour to bear fruit.
It wasn't pretty, but the U's had Exeter on the back foot. On 80 Vieira picked up possession twenty yards out, advanced on goal and with Taylor standing like a giant wicker man in his way, fired his shot narrowly wide of the far post. City responded with a speculative long-ranger from Friend, always off target, and on 84 they made their first change, Stansfield replaced by Ben Watson after running himself into the ground, as he demonstrated by leaving the field with all the haste of a slug carrying a particularly heavy wardrobe. Blindfold.
With no clock on display, just an enormous screen at both ends showing the action as it happened, the agony of the last few minutes weighed heavily on both sets of fans, Exeter desperate for it to be all over, United praying for more. So many times the U's have been ahead in a match this term and seen out the last few minutes with ruthless, possession-hogging efficiency. Now the boot was on the other, painful foot.
The long balls were pumped forward, but neither Big Mac nor LFW could make much of an impression against their lofty opponents. When big Leo did get the ball at his feet, he chose to slip it sideways instead of taking a shot from inside the box and the chance was lost. Wolleaston poked one over the bar, Vieira flattered to deceive with his runs but ended up trapped in blind alleys, and inspiration finally deserted the U's altogether as the amber hordes were almost literally on their knees, begging them to make a late breakthrough.
As it turned out, it was Exeter who almost had the last laugh when Albrighton switched off when chasing a ball over the top, giving up the chase and permitting Moxey to retrieve it from the touchline, slalom past him and head for goal. Number two looked certain, but Potter stood his ground and blocked superbly with his legs. A streaker from the U's end attempted to distract everyone, but failed to even reach the pitch as he was efficiently ushered away by the stewards. And Exeter's defence proved just as immovable as United flailed impotently and fell, at last, short.
The final whistle was a cue for heads in hands and hands on heads at the amber end as the dream finally died, in stark contrast to the unbridled joy at the end of five years' non-League exile for the Grecians. JQ was right to say that the best team won on the day, but what was so frustrating was that Exeter really did not have to play especially well to attain victory. They passed the ball nicely in deep positions, they defended with great resilience, and they kept their cool admirably. But it will take a hell of a lot more than that to make an impression in League 2 next season. Good luck to them, a decent club with decent supporters.
It was to United's credit that despite underperforming drastically on the day, way below their usual high standard, they were a goal-line clearance away from an equaliser fifteen minutes from the end. And with their record of fourteen 2-1 wins this term, wouldn't one more have been on the cards?
'What might have been' was on all amber minds as their heroes mooched, lost and distraught, around their half of the pitch whilst wild celebrations went on a few yards away, some acknowledging their supporters' heartfelt sympathetic applause. They needed a hug. We all needed a bloody hug.
Eventually they trooped up the hundred-odd steps to receive the scantest of consolations, a medal telling them they had lost at Wembley, then the stage belonged to the winners. The amber hordes drifted sorrowfully, reluctantly away in dribs and drabs, unwilling to drag themselves to the grim reality that awaited them outside. After such an amazing season they should have been celebrating all the progress that the team and the club has made in the last twelve months; but this was not the time or the place.
The Tube ride back to King's Cross was, naturally, subdued, and for many, positively sombre. Passing through Baker Street station, the lyrics to the song of the same name came to mind and seemed to sum up the U's state of mind with uncanny accuracy:
Winding your way down on Baker Street
Light in your head and dead on your feet
Well another crazy day, you'll drink the night away
And forget about everything
This city desert makes you feel so cold
It's got so many people but it's got no soul
And it's taken you so long to find out you were wrong
When you thought it held everything
You used to think that it was so easy
You used to say that it was so easy
But you're trying, you're trying now
Another year and then you'll be happy
Just one more year and then you'll be happy
But you're crying, you're crying now
Dry your eyes, mate. Ultimately, today's proceedings demonstrated just how difficult a football manager's job can be, particularly when it comes to an all-or-nothing crunch match. JQ made several calls, and none of them paid off.
He went with 3-5-2 as opposed to the 4-4-2 which has worked so well of late; the majority of the midfield (with the honourable exception of Carden) failed to function and was outplayed by the opposition. He went with experience; but some of the older heads still froze on the day and left the side lacking in pace and energy. He kept faith in the injury-prone McEvilly, Boylan and Brown; none of them did themselves justice, especially Brown, who this season has proved to be a decent left-back but a pretty woeful central midfielder. He drew on the route-one presence of LFW and pace of Vieira towards the end rather than rely on the guile of Beesley; neither could provide the breakthrough the team needed. On another day these decisions might have turned out to be masterstrokes. But not today.
But let us not lose sight of the bigger picture. This has been a fantastic season for Cambridge United, with a record-equalling haul of points, a tremendous, gutsy and likeable team of winners, a marvellous Cup run, classic goals and free-kicks, several hoodoos broken (Burton, Halifax), so many great memories home and away, growing stability off the pitch, the SSI and the Junior U's, and alongside the ever-loyal veterans, the emergence of a new, young and vibrant band of supporters which has re-energised the whole club. Bounce on, you crazy diamonds; the best is yet to come. See you all next season.
Statto Corner
Today's attendance of 42,511 was the second highest to ever attend a U's game, after the 42,973 at Highbury for Arsenal's FA Cup on 9th March 1991. Next on the list are 36,835 at Villa Park in the FA Cup in January 1980, 36,002 at West Ham for a League game in February 1981, and 30,934 at Old Trafford in the Rumbelows (League) Cup in September 1991. Needless to say United lost all of those games. You have to look down to eighth in the list for their first win, which was on their only previous visit to Wembley back in 1990 when they defeated Chesterfield 1-0. 26,404 was the attendance. That was the start of something big; perhaps today was another one.
Player Ratings
Potter 8. Did not have a great deal to do, really, but made excellent saves when required.
Albrighton 7. Had a decent game without quite hitting the heights he has managed this season.
Peters 8. Brought his vast experience to bear in an assured performance.
Hatswell 6. Below par throughout and one of several for whom the occasion seemed to get the better of them.
Gleeson 6. Another who fell short of his usual standard and lacked the creativity going forward to make a difference.
Wolleaston 6. Ran around valiantly at times, but was able to exert very little influence on proceedings.
Carden 8. Did the work of three men in midfield, mainly because he had to.
Brown 5. Surely everyone can see by now that midfield is far from his best position. Overpowered by the opposition and no surprise when he was withdrawn.
Pitt 6. Very good first half in which he was a fairly effective thorn in Exeter's side. They got wise to him in part two and he all but disappeared.
McEvilly 6. Bustled gamely, but struggled all too much to win the ball or make an impression.
Boylan 6. Darting movement up front was rarely rewarded with decent service, which was more the fault of the midfield.
Reed 6. Slotted in unobtrusively; perhaps a little too unobtrusively.
Vieira 7. Lively and dangerous sub, although faded towards the end due to lack of physical strength.
Fortune-West 6. Got stuck in but did not win enough ball.
Match Summary
Stagestruck United gave Exeter a soft goal start before getting their act together to an extent in the second half, but their lack of creativity in the final third and their opponents' doughty defending meant there was no way back and no happy ending to the season.
Man of the Match
Paul Carden. United's most consistent player of the second half of the season put in his usual sterling shift, but unfortunately too many of his colleagues failed to match his standard.
Ref Watch
Pawson 6. Awarded Exeter free-kicks with astonishing regularity for the most trivial of incidents, to which they soon got wise and fell to the ground at every opportunity. Another on the pitch whose performance failed to match the occasion, although he was at least easy on the cards.
Non-League Player's Name of the Week
King's Lynn's James Spittlehouse.
Soundtrack of the Day
Cambridge United FC 'The Amber Army Anthem'
The MP3 Files
Mark Peters lends an ear to the Wembley sounds. "There is no doubt that Wembley is an impressive sight, inside and out, although as a proud Welshman I would have to say the Millennium Stadium beats it hand down for atmosphere and on value for money! I can't say, however, that the PA blew me away with its muddy, muffled, bassy sound that was almost as bad as the one at the Abbey. It reminded me of a cassette bootleg of a Budgie gig at Honky Tonks in Wrexham that my brother Bryn gave me years ago!
"Anyway, there was obviously a lot of chit-chat on such a momentous day, so what little music there was had to be well known and catchy, leading to airings for The Feeling, Kaiser Chiefs and the Killers, with the Stone Roses at half-time for the oldies, plus that delightful Cymraeg songbird Duffy. There's lovely! The highlight, though, had to be the airing of our very own 'Amber Army Anthem' which makes up in enthusiasm what it lacks in musicality. A male voice choir those boys aren't! MP3 verdict: 8/10. Now before I go, I want to hear one more chorus of 'We're going up with Jimmy and Willy.' Go on, I'm listening! And next season, that's just what we're bloody well going to do!! Hwyl!"
Andrew Bennett
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