Sun Nov 28, 2010 7:30 pm
So, yet again the inextricable november curse has struck Cardiff City?? Or was it the dreaded hoodoo of Dave Jones winning manager of the month?? Either way, we left Loftus Road yesterday broken, despirited and cold. And 5 points behind our conquerers.
The day did not go well. Its fair to say the highlight of the day was Ryan pissing into an empty Fosters can on the tube, screaming for help as he'd filled it, in full view of the horrified commuters in the adjoining carriage. Then the doors opening at White City station whilst he was still palming his salami. "The Welsh have arrived, dear."
The day started off with the clandestine substitution of Strongbow for apple juice, the latter emptied over a frozen city centre pavement to conceal the consumption of alcohol along the M4 to London, an act forbidden on the Megabus, along with, apparently, flushing birds down the toilet. Although I got away with my 'Bow deception, I decided to leave the Red-Browed Finch on the side of Greyfriars Rd.
That was where the fun stopped.
Dave Jones got it wrong. The side he put out was perfect for an attacking 4-5-1 with enough bite to keep tabs on Adel Taarabt. Except he didnt play 4-5-1. He played 4-4-2 with Drinkwater, a tenacious box to box terrior wide left. Jones has a habit of ignoring his players best attributes and strengths and playing them out of position. Last season we saw Kelvin Etuhu double as a target man, a role this season given to Andy Keogh, who has as much aerial ability as a penguin. He played Chopra, a goal scorer who thrives on playing on the back foot of centre halfs, wide out right against the Jacks. He continually plays Lee Naylor. Anywhere. Next week, Craig Bellamy in goals.
To be fair to Drinkwater, however, he looked more of a winger than Jason Koumas, who put in a perfomance of the like that has plagued his career. He wasted a fantastic opportunity to level the scores with an effort weaker than a spinach-less Popeye.
Bellamy too was guilty if not putting away his chances. After scoring from a carbon copy situation already, he decided to try and square the ball rather than pull the trigger. Rangers Paddy Kenny made a lucky save from a howitzer from Burke that cannoned back so harf off his face I bet he wasn't racking them up on saturday!!
Lee Naylor. First he failed to stop the cross that led to Gorkss goal, then his attempt at a tackle on Taarabt was laughable. There was as much effort in that tackle as a Gillian McKeith jungle trial. Adam Matthews was bombed out by Jones for his costly mistakes at Ipswich. I would have made Naylor walk home yesterday. After stealing his socks and shoes. If Jones sticks with Naylor ahead of bringing in either Matthews or Blake in and switching McNaughton, he should hung. Honestly, Id prefer Etuhu at left back than Naylor.
And then there was the 'penalty'. It was that blatant Stevie Wonder was calling for it to be given. Farsical refereeing of the Paul Taylor ilk.
It wasnt just the game that made me incandescent with rage. At half time I went down to the glorified corridor that is behind the away stand licking my lips at the culinary masterpiece that was surely to be bestowed upon me. Face it, QPRs owners have enough combined wealth to sort out Irelands financial debacle, these guys don't slum it. My tastebuds were tingling. "Sorry, no pies". What?? "No burgers or no hotdogs - we've got Cornish Pasties though". Fanfuckingtastic.
The QPR fans struck me as a bit odd too. It was like they'd watched Nick Love's version of the firm and decided to rinse the Yetis look. Seriously, there were kids in their teens/early 20s rocking Crombie coats. It was as if they'd all gone to Loftus Road via a Krays funeral. There was one lad in particular who was hurling obscenities at us. A little ginger bloke who looked like Ron Weasley from Harry Potter. I refrained from giving him the wanker sign incase he used an 'expectro petronum' spell on me. Another thing about QPR fans. They kept chanting come on you R's, which is a blatant rip off of what I scream at Dave Jones on matchday.
Then, after the game there were a few "pwoper nawty" boys trying to make us look like a "dry lunch", bouncing around and giving it the big un. That was until they let us out - on their toes and off into the distance. I heard from a QPR mate of mine that some of their lot got a bit of a spanking. Doesnt surprise me. All mouth, no balls - Its the QPR way.
But it's done now. Plus, november is over and its time to look forward to the christmas period and trying to claw back the five point defecit, as well as keeping above the six-fingered, sister fuckers down the road. Bring on Preston.