In another world, The Arse could be kings. Alas, in this world, we keep building up our hopes at The Grove, and then conspire to destroy them.
Instead of winning our group games, we let it slip. The away games at Braga and Shakhtar saw totally the wrong team selections with the introduction of the usual suspects. Time and time again, this motley crew persistently demonstrate that they just can’t do the business. These were the same two teams that we thumped eleven goals past at home earlier in the season. Losing these two away legs was where the damage was done. We consequently failed to win our group and got paired with Barcelona whilst Shakhtar played and beat Roma.
As runners-up in our group, we even lost the right to play our last 16 home leg second. Nevertheless we all made a huge noise and waved our free red and white flags when Barcelona came to town and sucked in two late goals in what has been dubbed the greatest five minutes ever at Ashburton.
In last night’s return leg, the actions of our two men who we were sweating on for fitness, both played a huge part in our demise. The actions of both Cesc and Percy must have made them as totally gutted as the rest of us. Both these players are total geniuses and we are honoured to see them in action week in and week out. The fact that yet another awful ref saw fit to play five minutes of time added on at the end of the first half provided Cesc with enough time for his worst ever touch in a red shirt. A few minutes into the second half saw Percy’s departure for shooting at goal a whole second after the whistle had been blown. This is exactly the same trick that the likes of Blackburn and Bolton get away with every time with the score at 0-0 whenever they visit The Grove.
Nearing the end of the game, whilst Barca were playing keep-ball, we had just one chance to score the goal which would have taken us through. Jack, who had yet another outstanding match for us, provided the opportunity for Barry who was in loads of space. Please, Barry, for the first time in your life, produce a decent first touch and make yourself the same hero that you say you are. We were off our feet in anticipation. And we all know what happened next. Barry’s first touch was as woeful as it has been all season.
Despite being poor second-bests on the night, that was our big chance. Yet again, we fluffed it. It marked the exact moment when our ticket to Europe expired. We were architects of our own downfall.