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SLIPPING AWAY FROM HOME TRUTHS Part 1 29-3-05
So another month, another set of disappointments and suddenly we are beginning to realise that the true lot of a Boro supporter is to expect so much from a team that delivers so little. And isn't there a shred of comfort in that?
At Christmas, weren't you getting nosebleeds due to our fantastic start to the season? Weren't you reassuring yourself that our traditional post-Christmas slump would put us back on an even keel? Weren't you secretly wishing for the reassurance that a mid-table position of mediocrity would bring? No? So what's changed?
Because this slump is hardly new. Hell, it happened twice under Robbo. Yet for some reason people are calling for Steve McClaren's head, despite this being the first time this has happened under his incumbency. So what's different?
Why were the fans so patient with Robbo (at least initially) yet so scathing of McClaren? Why are many of the southern media outlets perplexed over our reaction to the only manager in our history to have ever brought us some silverware? What can we see that they can't? The answer lies, I'm afraid, in what's already been written...
Steve McClaren, Bryan Robson and the Tactical Problem
On the surface, McClaren and Robson have many similarities. Both came out of Manchester United without any managerial experience, both reassured the fans that with the backing of our beneficent chairman they could finally obtain some silverware for the club and, in hindsight, both had the tactical nous of a spoon.
So what is the difference between Robson and McClaren? The fact is that the latter succeeded in his aims whilst the former came so close. And it is because of this that he has created a rod for his own back. Because the only thing that weighs on the mind more than expectation is justified expectation and it is this that McClaren has finally given us.
There is no doubting that under our last two managers, the mood of the average Boro supporter has shifted somewhat. Granted it has still been daubed with pessimism- after all we are northerners and realists above anything else but to this concoction there has now been added hope. And not a hope fringed with implausibility but a hope fringed with potential, with a dream that could be fulfilled and, on February 29 last year, a dream that started to come true.
There is no doubt that Robbo sowed the seeds to those successful years. After all he came so close to success himself. We forgave his tactical ineptitude, we forgave his somewhat bizarre decisions at times because he was still giving us something we hadn't had before. A profile. And the chance of achieving that we had never had before.
We suddenly were placed on the map and people started talking about us. And people have been doing so ever since. We had seven years under Robbo and towards the end we stagnated, towards the end we felt that we needed change, a fresh start to build on the sturdy foundations that Robbo had laid.
And there is no coincidence that simultaneously, the team itself was not playing to its potential: that we felt that the same mid-table position year in year out was not the progression that we had hoped. Thus as season ticket sales began to dwindle as quickly as the possibility of excitement, the move was made to replace Robbo. And thus another untested manager came in- Steve McClaren.
Yet this didn't efface the expectation that had gradually been built up under the reign of Robbo, nor did it efface the frustration of some of the fans. We were still playing poor football and after we had been promised so much and achieved so little under Robbo, it was only natural that the high-paying fans would be less forgiving.
Season ticket sales were still down and we gave McClaren the benefit of the doubt for the first few seasons. Yet this was different to the vibes that we had afforded Robbo in his early years. This was borne out of frustration, out of an awkwardness that was rooted in the desire to succeed. In effect it was based on the foundations of expectation that Robbo had similarly laid. And as a result, this tolerance was to be less forgiving and more impatient. We had waited under Robbo and we were no longer prepared to wait. McClaren had to do in half the time, what Robbo so nearly tried to do throughout his tenure.
Three years in and we finally had the taste of the success for which we had craved so long. McClaren had made the one step that Robbo could not and indeed in that respect McClaren was a success. We were winners. And amidst the elation, the expectation was cranked up even more. The realists in us knew that the future would still be tough but we now had a golden opportunity. The nugget of European football would tempt some better players to the club- we could finally push on and establish ourselves as one of the best sides in the country.
Put simply, we were finally moving forward. So in came Reiziger, Viduka, Hasselbaink, Parlour, Zenden, all top class players and the expectation was at fever pitch. But not enough to sell season tickets for some reason. The fans finally saw positive signs and many prophesised our best post-war season as a result.
Yet fate had different ideas. Almost as soon as the season started, we started to implode. Mendieta was first but we absorbed it. We were still playing well, still getting results and we looked on in joyful pride- after so long with mediocre football we were finally playing with some style- and getting the results as well, not to mention the media recognition.
A few more injuries but it didn't matter too much. We were on a roll, pushing for that top six finish that would guarantee us European football again next season. Indeed we were looking at securing fourth and Champions' League- that was the level of optimism our good run started to generate. And many of us genuinely believed that we could do it.
We looked dangerous, lively and threatening. Defensively we were solid and the confidence exuded. November, December, yet more injuries but the kids were coming in and doing us proud, riding on the back of their Youth Cup win, along with the precocious nature of youth. We still looked solid, we still looked great going forward and we were still getting results.
And then Boateng became injured. Psychologically this was a massive blow, we started to fall apart and you could see our confidence decreasing almost instantaneously. With Viduka also out, we played both Manchester United and Chelsea expecting defeat. Indeed, we didn't even try.
And we the fans looked on in horror, aghast that things could turn against us in the manner that they had, that the players had given up because their confidence had died. We saw the same dirge Robbo had served up in his last three seasons at the club and disappointment once more set in- we thought we had turned the corner, yet in reality it was more of the same.
And with it came frustration because suddenly all the hopes that McClaren had built up during 2004, the Carling Cup win, the fifth place at Christmas, the highest points tally we had ever accrued at New Year, started to come crashing down around us- it started to become worthless.
And the time that the decisive blow occurred can be pinpointed exactly- 4.51pm on January 22. The venue was Carrow Road. In that minute a ball from the left, a free-kick if I remember, was launched into the box and everyone in that stadium, fans and players alike, knew what the next few moments would bring. Because for some reason, we surrendered to the inevitable.
And it was that goal, their fourth, that brought on this current run of form. Because if we had hung on that day, we would have gained confidence from it, even if it was 4-3. We still would have won and we wouldn't have thrown it away. But the fact that one of the poorest teams in the league scored three goals in the last ten minutes to level a match in which we were strolling hit the fans and players hard.
Because we all just knew. We all knew that at 4-3 they would equalise. Sat there at Carrow Road that day, I was praying. But my prayers were in vain. And what made it worse was that we threw it away. Not just because of the goals that we conceded but the WAY they were conceded. Four simple set pieces, four pieces of shoddy defending.
It was on that day we self-imploded. And we have yet to get any semblance of confidence back. Indeed we have yet to get any semblance of solid defending back as well.
On Motivation
Qualifying for Europe was still the priority, no matter how we did it. So our pathetic capitulation at Old Trafford the following week was unacceptable. Again we expected defeat- we didn't even try. Confidence was shot and still is.
But that's the very root of the problem. We NEVER seem motivated. How many times recently have you seen a Boro side come out and give it all they have from the start? None. That's how many.
For some reason it takes us twenty minutes of a game just to get into our stride. It is a telling statistic that by the first week of December, of the 30 odd goals we had scored, only 8 had come in the first half. We were notorious for getting to halftime at 0-0 and finishing the opposition off in the second half.
Now that was fine when our defence was reasonably solid, but not now that we are decidedly shaky and we are, largely because our confidence is lacking. The longer it stays 0-0, the more nervy we become over conceding, unlike earlier in the season when we became more assured of scoring.
But surely there must be someone at the club whose role is to instil belief, to motivate the team and to make them come out fighting? Perhaps this is Bill Beswick's job? Whoever's job it is, it doesn't appear to be getting done properly and if that is the case, then the holder of the position should be replaced.
SLIPPING AWAY FROM HOME TRUTHS Part 2 30-3-05
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