Drogs ⚽ Sligo ⚽ Seven

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ They came. They saw. They surrendered.

For the second week in a row Drogheda United served up a goalfest to their fans. It was like an all you can eat goal buffet. Weavers Park has suddenly been transformed into Winners Park, and it is a transformation made in style. Sixteen goals in two games, with none conceded. Last night's was the biggest yet for the claret and blue in Premiership football.

Last week, the Drogs thrashed non-league side Wilton United a whopping 9-0. As good a result as that was - a club record - last night's victory over Sligo Rovers was a much more noteworthy performance which will cause other teams to sit up and take notice. A Shamrock Rovers fan sent me a message saying bloody hell, Drogheda the Magnificent 7. The giant has indeed awakened.

Sligo is one of the country's better teams, coming into the game at fourth in the league table, sitting well above Drogheda. Sent packing from the cup, having lost to UCD last week, there was a feeling that Weavers would see them go the extra mile to return to winning ways. Yet, the Bit O'Red that showed most at the end of the game was their red faces, having just tasted Premier League humiliation in front of the handful of supporters that had made the trek to cheer, maybe even jeer, them on.

The Drogs might have been quietly confident that they could take the visitors but it would never have crossed their minds, nor that of their fans, that they would have beaten Sligo, so convincingly, so handsomely, so awesomely. It could easily have gone into double figures, setting a new club record, only for some rare but decisive tackles combining with the keeper's agility to keep the Drogs at bay. Frantz Pierrot could easily have added at least two more to the brace he bagged to bring his league tally for the season to seven. He did everything right, on one occasion unselfishly providing the assist. His misfortune lay in the rare ability of Sligo to come awake just as he was about to pounce. For his efforts he won the Drogheda man of the match award. That said, all of the Drogs were in contention for that.

This is not the performance of a bog standard bottom of the table side but one of champions. There is no chance that Drogheda will become champions this season but there is a growing confidence that they will not be champions of the First Division at the end of next season because the need to be will have gone. The Drogs now look as if they are a team that will avoid the drop. And if they have to compete in a play off with the First Division runners up, Kevin Doherty has moulded a side that is most unlikely to lose. Things are looking up and hopefully Dundalk will be going down.

Our matchday squad was severely depleted, reduced to one - moi. Paddy and J were in Killarney while Ronan was in Belfast for a music festival.

I travelled over with a neighbour and his two children. His son joined his friends in front of the pitch while I sat with him and his daughter in the stand. The game was not long underway before my neighbour called it right: the Sligo defence was all over the place, a situation Drogheda quickly took advantage of to go one up after only five minutes with a strike from Douglas James-Taylor, whose presence upfront has helped stem the tide of defeats. After eleven minutes the Drogs doubled their lead. When they went in at half time, three up courtesy of a Frantz Pierrot strike, I thought, we can relax. They are not going to squander this advantage. Still, the nagging doubt managed to burrow its way into my mind: it seemed too good to be true, surely there would be a sting in the tail. True, but the Drogs delivered it with scorpion-like ferocity. While Paddy didn't get his usual ringside seat, he kept in touch throughout, as amazed as I was at the ever growing scoreline.

Around the sixtieth minute it was game over, the fabled fat lady if she were to sing, would only render a requiem for Sligo. A tenacious finish by Pierrot after a brilliant 50 yard probing run by Darragh Markey signalled lights out for Sligo. At 4-0 up there was no way that the Bit O'Red could stage a recovery. Even a believer in miracles would not have countenanced the possibility of the red Lazarus arising from the dead, the defence too frangible, the forward line too feeble. In a desperate effort to plug the gap Sligo pushed on five subs in a ten minute period in the second half. To no avail against a rampant, resurgent Drogheda United. With Conor Kane, Elicha Ahui and Adam Foley all adding to the scoreline, the message has gone out: don't come to Weavers Park cocky and casual. Annihilation awaits you in that cauldron

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