Defeat at the Hands of Bristol's Pirate Kings

"Proper Cornish" fare in Proper Bristol

Almost a week ago now I faithfully promised two friends and fellow City fans that, in their absence at the Bristol Rovers game, I would post a match report on here. I didn't, partly because life got in the way, and partly because actually the performance was more than a little lacklustre, with none of the heroics we saw at Swindon early in the season, and none of the flare that increased our confidence so much before Christmas.

The game, at the somewhat underwhelming Memorial Stadium on the edge of Bristol, was a test for even the hardest of City fans. Despite bright sunshine the biting wind swept through the seated area, leaving even those of us with the most Northern genes too numb with cold even to shiver, and the terrace was only marginally better. Unprepared for the 500-odd visitors, the queue for the snack bar lasted for the entirety of half time, and by the time you finally got to the counter they'd run out of pies (I have no evidence that Mark Lawn was at the front of the queue, either.) The one benefit of being a woman at football, of course, is that there is never a queue for the toilets, but here there was no hot water either, nor any paper.

Comfort aside, the activity on the pitch did little to raise the mood, either. A Rovers goal in the 6th minute seemed to signal that they had started as they meant to go on, and City looked a combination of desperate and ill-prepared. A partly unfamiliar squad can't have helped, with some bigger names having left in the previous weeks, and with Syers back after a long absence from injury then suspension, they just didn't seem to gel. There was none of the seamless passing that looked so hopeful earlier on in the season, little risk-taking, and the players seemed to be largely relying on good luck, which was notable by its absence when both Atkinson then Fagan made sterling efforts to score, but without success.

The second half opened much like the first, with a second Bristol Rovers goal two minutes in, after which all seemed to be lost. But whatever they'd been told, or whatever rocket had been put up their arses in the dressing room at half time, had clearly had an impact: we started to attack more as well as defend; suddenly players had others to pass to, rather than kicking the ball into a general scrum and hoping for the best; Kyle Reid came on and added a flash of brilliance from that moment on. Then, in the 65th minute, Kozluk was controversially sent off for a second offence. With only ten men, you would almost forgive them for giving up, but this blow was almost instantly followed by a fantastic Syers goal, reminding us all why we'd missed him so badly. From that point, we positively sparkled. An equalizer looked almost certain, with Reid running everyone ragged, and two successive attempts at goal from Hanson. We felt sure that we would do to Bristol Rovers what Morcambe and then Burton had so cruelly done to us.

Perhaps that's why I felt such crushing disappointment when the whistle blew and this hadn't happened. If the second half was anything to go by we should be feeling a new wave of optimism, but the fact is that as a result of that game we dropped down to 20th in the league, still perilously close to relegation and an increasingly unattainable distance from the play-offs. Even the normal exhuberance and passion of the City fans present was notably muted, and mutterings of discontent on the forums and an progressively bleak atmosphere, tinged with the violent negativity and viciousness that the likes of Boy From Brazil so beautifully tried to counteract, makes this one of the most depressing seasons I can remember. The excitement of early cup wins is becoming a distant memory, and my City experience is more and more one of overwhelming disenchantment.

I was amused, then, by this bit of light relief: a group of Bristol fans inexplicably dressed as reindeer and looking puzzlingly bleak as they left the ground, given they'd just earned three points. Not all the loonies have been locked up yet.