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Showing posts with label Drogheda United. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drogheda United. Show all posts
Anthony McIntyre ⚽ Prior to Friday evening's clash over at the Windmill Road, Jay had been playing a football match of his own. 


It went to penalty kicks so his arrival with Paddy at the house was delayed although not by much. For once I was ready, rather than running around like the busy fool looking for season ticket and phone while Paddy and Jay sit patiently in the car.

At this point in the season, we arrive in Sullivan and Lambe Park while it is still bright. By the time we leave darkness has descended, reminding that we are about less than a month to go before the change of attire. First the shorts will be replaced by full length jeans or cargo pants. Then the light jacket will give way to a heavy overcoat with a pocket to hold gloves, just in case the need arises. By the time we hit the Aviva in November for the FAI Cup final, no matter who the finalists are, caution will not be abandoned. Full winter gear will be how we turn out. Too warm, it can be taken off. Too cold it can't be put on if it is at home.

The prediction, well that is another story. I usually go for a draw, feeling it is the most likely outcome. The history of this fixture didn't really allow for any expectation other than a draw, and a goalless one at that. Five out of the last seven clashes between the two sides failed to produce a goal. Jay, being a bit more adventurous, went for a 2-1 win for the home side. On the way out I ribbed him that at least he got the one goal for the visitors right!

On the way over we pulled in behind a car at the lights. I couldn't resist taking a photo. Not often does the Devil do Drogheda in his own hell wagon. How he might manage the foot pedals with a club foot or sit comfortably on his tail we might never know because the lights turned green and he zoomed off to claim another soul in our once Catholic town. Perhaps he thought we were evangelical Christians who might ram him, getting an out of jail free car because we would only be doing the work of the Lord.


It was a devil of a night. The Drogs played quite well and were more of an attacking force than what we have become accustomed to seeing. But as happens too often for comfort they dropped their mitts, leaving them exposed to a sucker punch in the dying minutes of the game where time had been added on for all the things that cause the referee's watch to go into slow motion. On the 94th minute the game turned (maybe Turner even) and a fourth scoreless draw on the trot was avoided, only not in the way we would have liked. For the first time ever I heard boos from a small number of supporters. Frustration had got to them. 

Another disappointing fall at the finishing line, reminding me of the game in Cork when a similar thing happened, only then a point was salvaged. Fortunately this time Kevin Doherty and a fan did not go head to head on the final whistle. 

The game itself was by no means a dull affair, much more lively than some of the matches where the Drogs have eked out a point. Even had they secured one on the night it would have been better than none but still disappointing because they should be winning their home games. The solitary point for a draw is something that should be picked up away. Then it can be regarded as a bonus.

Despite hitting the bar through the industrious Warren Davis, at the heel of the hunt it was a mistake at the other end that saw the Drogs done for. Luke Dennison tried to start an attack by throwing the ball to a colleague but it was far too short, Drogheda squandered possession, a corner ensued: game over. The darkness consuming us as we left the stadium was not because the sun had long set. 

⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Drogs ⚽ Pat's ⚽ Lucifer

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ If there is an antibiotic of some sort that can treat draw disease, it has yet to find its way into the Drogheda United dressing room.


Two points dropped is the only way to describe Friday's failure to overcome a resilient Waterford setup. A draw away is a point gained. A draw at home is two points dropped. By that reckoning, Waterford left the pitch the happier of the two sides.

With Ronan enjoying a Polish beach in the company of his girlfriend myself, Paddy and Jay made the short trip across the Boyne to Sullivan and Lambe Park on a lovely sunny evening. It seemed so long since we were last there for a league game, only one match being played at home in July. Jay made a 2-1 forecast which I felt to be a bit on the conservative side. The Drogs had after all come away with three points the previous week courtesy of a stout defensive performance against the Bohs at Dalymount Park, adding cream to the cake at the end with a strike by Josh Thomas. There seemed no reason, other than succumbing to draw disease, that they would not take Waterford. Experience, being a reliable teacher, should have taught me differently. 

An instantly forgettable game, what detail I might have retained was quickly pushed out of my mind the following day by a much more exciting clash at the Aviva, featuring AC Milan and Leeds United. It would be churlish to have a poke at the Sullivan and Lambe game, harshly comparing it to the quality served up in the Aviva a mere 18 hours later.  Horses for courses, and the Aviva was hosting players who earn more for a game that either Drogheda or Waterford do for a season. Perspective is everything.

What I have thought about since is that the Drogs are set up so conservatively as to make scoring a rare event. So often, on the break, the lead player is stranded. With no one to pass to, he is crowded out by the opposing team's defenders who always manage to arrive in numbers ahead of the chasing Drogheda posse. It is a drawing formula, not a winning one. 

As dusk insinuated its way into the stadium, and the crowd exhaled its pleas for a winner, Paddy commented to me that there was more chance of a cheque coming in the post for overpaid tax than the Drogs scoring that night.  Being unable to see beyond that logic I acquiesced in it, consoling myself with the thought that on this night no pessimist was going to be proved wrong. On the final whistle, we trudged our way out of the ground considerably more despondent than when we arrived. It was a D night for sure, Despondency, the only terminus suitable for a dull, dismal, dreary draw.


This time last year it was not certain that the Claret and Blue could avoid the drop. It is certain this year that come next season Sullivan and Lambe will be hosting Premier division soccer. The nether regions of the beautiful game beckon Sligo and Cork instead. Still, we rue over what might have been, that snatching draws from the jaws of victory was far from the only option available. Having been robbed of an opportunity to play in European competition this year, it will be thoroughly demoralising if the Drogs manage to draw their way out of European football next season. Then the blame can hardly be put on soccer's governing bureaucracy.

With 27 games played the Drogs sit on 42 points, level with Derry who they face next at Brandywell as they seek to hold onto the FAI Cup. That old pessimist logic comes back when I wonder how they are going to up their game to secure a victory in Derry. Stuck in the slow lane they might easily see the Candy Stripes overtake them on the road to the Aviva in November.
⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Drogs ⚽ Waterford ⚽ Dreaded Draw

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ The Drogs cruised through the opening game in their campaign to defend the FAI Cup they won last season.  

There were no surprises, no giant killing by the minnows. Crumlin, from the Leinster Senior League, tried valiantly but in the end a superior Drogheda United was simply too strong for the battling Dublin side who went down to a high five blitz from the cup holders.

The five of us, sober as judges (on that rare occasion when judges are sober) and anything but high, travelled over in Paddy's car. The usual three of myself, Paddy and Jay with Ronan and his girlfriend making up the quintet. The latter two are currently in Poland so I guess even last night's victory away to Bohemians in the league will be the furthest thing from their mind.  It wasn't a difficult one for Jay to call - a routing by the Drogs although a fortnight on I don't remember the exact score line that he predicted. However, I think he plumped for a five goal affair with the Drogs getting four of them. 

In this one the home side were slow to get off the mark, leaving it almost until the stroke of half time before delivering a sucker punch from Conor Keeley to the midriff of the visitors. Prior to that Luke Dennison had to be on the alert as Reece Kavanagh and Calum Bridgeman constantly probed the Drogheda defensive line in search of something that might unlock the wall of claret and blue in front of them. If Crumlin thought after their first half performance that they could get a result from the game their hopes were deftly swept aside with a scorching strike from Thomas Oluwa, which found the top of the net, nudged there with the aid of a slight deflection. The fight went out of Crumlin after that like air out of a balloon. The Drogs were in control, moving the ball at their leisure. Josh Thomas (last night's hero at Dalymount Park), John O’Sullivan and Darragh Markey all helped complete the rout.


Despite the 5-0 thrashing, Crumlin's man of the match must go to Morgan Daly in goal whose efforts made sure the margin of victory was kept well away from double figures. One effort he blocked, from Drogs captain Ryan Brennan, would have won him plaudits had it been pulled off in the English Premier League. Unfortunately an injury late into the second half was enough to see him substituted. He might have left the field in pain but few could deny him the sense of pride that was his due. 

I met Tony on the way out and commiserated with him on the death of his wife. A dedicated Drog, his loss was acknowledged in the minute prior to kickoff when the stadium stood in one minute silence in memory of Tracy. 

The next round will be a different matter. Up against Derry at the Brandywell, the Candy Stripes will be burning for revenge, striving to reward their fans with payback for their Aviva final loss last year. If the Drogs make it through to the next round then the Aviva in November will start to look more than a remote possibility. 
 
⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Drogs ⚽ Crumlin ⚽ High Five

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ This one, I had to make on my own. 


Paddy and Jay were on holiday so, deprived of my two dependable companions, there was less enjoyment to be derived from the clash with Galway than is the norm. Sure, the quality of soccer is much the same but having Paddy's expertise to mull over throughout the games is always a big plus. But holidays are like penalty kicks, never to be turned down when they present themselves, so for the night I was left nursing a minus.

It seemed rich in symbolism that the game played at Sullivan And Lambe Park on US Independence Day, was contested by the only two teams in the league of Ireland who have American players: Drogheda and Galway, Trump not yet seemingly having found a tariff that he can impose on them. 

I walked over, the ground being a half hour from home. I always loved the walk to the Oval when young to watch Glentoran, whether for afternoon or evening games. The closer we got to the Oval, the more colour came to dominate as the routes converged with fans congregated along the Newtownards Road, before making the turn into Dee Steet on the last leg of the journey to the ground.  Apart from my first trip to watch the Glens draw 2-2 with Derry in the company of my father who drove, I don't recall ever travelling there but on foot. 

It was a pleasant Friday evening as the heatwave had bathed the town in its rays, but I determined to get a taxi home - long day and all that. Fortunately, the lovely Laura invited me to join her for a cab journey back, explaining that her son and his friend would be the only other passengers so there would be space aplenty for me. Then she flatly refused to allow me to contribute to the fare. That is the sort of decent neighbour I am fortunate to have.

Galway to Drogheda is quite the journey so the small number of loyal supporters who turned up from the city to roar on the Tribesmen was much as expected. Lots of empty spaces in their side of the stadium. 


I had come with Jay's prediction to the fore of my mind: 1-0 to the Drogs. It was a confidence no shared by myself. The last time Galway lost to Drogheda was October 2020 so that hardly augured well.

With the ball in the Drogheda net after five minutes only to be ruled offside, it looked as if the bad run of form for the Drogs against Galway would continue, and that Jay's prediction would prove unfounded. The first half was an insipid affair where neither side managed to control the game. Galway probably edged it in terms of possession. At the end of the game Bobby, a regular attendee at matches, commented as walked by me 'terrible first half.'

Whatever Kevin Doherty said during the half time break or put in the players' tea, it worked. Drogheda came out much more assertive. Within five minutes they were in front, and while they never managed to extend their lead they held their defensive line long enough to emerge victorious.

The speed with which Dare Kareem reacted to a flicked on pass left Galway grounded. The debutant's pounce would decide the outcome. If fans felt the departure of James Douglas Taylor to Bohemians would have blunted further a forward line not particularly sharp to begin with, their fears were allayed. Kareem's exuberance saw him hurtle across the pitch and into the welcoming arms of coach, Kevin Doherty.

Drogheda now sit a comfortable fourth in the table, eleven points off the leaders, Shamrock Rovers. But for a run of poor form where draws were served up with monotonous frequency, the Claret and Blue could have been breathing down the neck of the Hoops. Often I leave the ground with a heart as heavy as my badge strewn Drogs beanie. Not this time. Three points are as much as can be squeezed from any game. Come Friday, none of that will matter when we take our seats to watch the defence of the FAI Cup begin.
 
⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Drogs ⚽ Galway ⚽ Kareem

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ For this one I wasn't quite on my own. 


Just without my perennial match day companions Paddy and Jay. Drogheda were taking on Cork at Turner's Cross so I decided to make the trip and stay overnight with a friend and old union colleague, Joe.

From Drogheda, it is about four hours travelling: train to Connolly, Luas to Heuston, train to Cork. I had been up pretty early so knew I would be in for a weary day. Worst part of it was the train being so packed with passengers that I had to stand until we reached Portlaoise. As soon as a seat became available a much younger guy offered it to me. It was appreciated - reading Kindle while standing on a fast moving train has its own challenges. I had started The Phantom by Jo Nesbo. It is the ninth in the Harry Hole series. He is an Oslo cop whose trials, tribulations, adversaries and alcohol, feed my addiction to Scandinoir. The journey, and return trip, seemed quite short as a result.

As soon as I reached Cork, myself and Joe made for the nearest pub and downed a few before heading up to his place for something to eat. We cracked open a bottle of Black Bush just to put us in the mood. I had backup in the shape of a hip flask brimming with Jack Daniels that would accompany us to Turner's Cross. 

The one previous occasion I had been in the stadium it was along with Joe a few years back. There was no game on but I had wanted to see the ground so he took me over. We gained access surprisingly easily, simply walking through an opening and to the edge of the pitch. Seemed we were the only two people in the ground. 

Having sauntered into town all the way downhill from Joe's place, we were on time for kickoff. That however, soon started to go awry courtesy of Cork taxis simply not being easy to locate. We tried hailing a number of them but to no avail, eventually finding a rank. By the time we got to the ground Drogheda were a goal to the good, a screamer apparently from the cultured boot of Shane Farrell. Our disappointment at missing the action was soon swept aside as the hip flask emerged and did its work.

Cork languish at the bottom of the table but a Martian would never have been able to work that out had he just arrived at the ground from Mars with no knowledge of current form. We were behind the Cork goal but had to crane our necks to follow the play, so much of it took place in the Drogheda half. Unfortunately, it has been the way with Drogheda for a while now. Unconvincing performances. When they achieve the odd victory they seem to scrape by. Often, grinding out a win is the mark of a championship winning side, just that the Drogs look anything but that. A heavy defeat to Derry at the Brandywell last evening apart from dampening my birthday celebrations saw them slip further away from pole position.


The failure to maintain possession came to a head at the end of the game. The fourth official had announced seven extra minutes. There seemed no reason for it other than a punitive one. I had commented to Joe after Luke Dennison's yellow card for time wasting that the ref would seek to exact a price from the Claret and Blue by adding on more time than was justified by stoppages. Dennison, a fine shot stopper, is inviting trouble when he dallies too long in possession. A yellow is not a good return on few seconds gained here and there. It is definitely not worth the amount of time that can be added on particularly when the Drogs seem to be jaded as the game reaches its final moments. A goal in front was no guarantee against a Cork side on the prowl for an equaliser. Horror of horrors, it came in the 96th minute, in front of the lowest crowd of the season at Turner's Cross, when Josh Fitzpatrick managed to deliver a superb cross to Djenairo Daniels who drove it home with aplomb. Deja vu - Drogs fans have seen it all before. I had to put up with Joe's delight next to me - a Cork dog with two tails and not knowing which one to wag.

Dispirited by the turn of events, we nevertheless applauded the team as they approached the away end on the final whistle. We instinctively grasped just how deflated the players and staff were after a so near yet so far moment. But the greatest clash of the night was yet to come. As manager Kevin Doherty was acknowledging the travelling contingent, a fan in the same row as myself started to complain. Later when I asked him what exactly he had said he told me that his gripe was that Drogheda threw it away at the end because in the last eight or so games they had about thirty per cent possession of the ball. Kevin Doherty was incensed and lost his cool. He had to be physically restrained by stewards and players from entering the spectators enclosure to face down a fan who was not for backing down.
 
Myself and Joe had a ringside seat for the acrimonious exchange. We were both amazed at what was unfolding in front of our eyes. Even An Garda moved to position themselves between the two protagonists, it seemed that close to turning violent.

The fan insisted that he he was entitled to an opinion. It was not a view shared by his fellow supporters who left him to plough a lonely furrow while they showed deference to the authority of the manager. I was not entirely at odds with the fan's opinion given the amount of possession opposing teams manage to secure when facing Drogheda. I just think the time and location was wrong to be giving out: too volatile, emotionally charged, no place for cool heads.  The brooding atmosphere generated by a kick to the swingers in the dying seconds of the game was not conducive to a rational discussion. 

Both fan and manager were in the wrong. They had allowed the late sucker punch from Daniels to push them over the edge. Both know that Drogheda walked away with two points less than they should have, and took their frustration out on each other. 

Kevin Doherty, in the public eye in a way that the fan is not, will have risked more. He should have told the berating fan that he would address the criticism another time and simply move on to exchange applause with the rest of the fans. 

The Drogs are not in a dire state despite a poor run of form. They are still in the top half of the table. When a vacancy came up at Shelbourne courtesy of Damen Duff's abrupt departure, there was no rush of fans urging Doherty to fill it. There seemed more of a trepidation that he might. 

After the game Joe and myself ended up in the Mutton Lane Inn. A relaxing way to finish a day in Cork much as we had started it. 


The night's soccer might not have been scintillating but the sparks cascading at the end of the clash meant that we could hardly claim we did not get value for money. We bought tickets for one event and ended up getting a double bill.
 
⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Cork ⚽ Drogs ⚽ Sparks

Anthony McIntyre ⚽The game against Sligo was looking promising for the Drogs. 


The visitors circling the drain at the bottom of the table, grateful for the bottleneck provided by Cork blocking their descent, would remember their 7-0 thrashing when they visited last August to a home side that was itself then desperately trying to avoid the drop. In their last three visits Sligo had conceded twelve goals to Drogheda's one. On paper, low hanging fruit, there for the taking. Just that grass is not paper.

Once through the turnstiles - they let me into the ground even though I had forgotten my season ticket: familiarity does not always breed contempt! The badge strewn beanie helps as well - Tony, the ever present steward, asked how the young fella who makes the predictions  saw this one going. Jay felt Drogheda would emerge comfortable winners, predicting a 2-0 outcome. I wasn't so sure, sensing that a draw was the most likely result. There have been so many of them that wags quip 'Drawada'.

In the end the Drogs won 1-0 but it was far from comfortable. They held on tenuously to the same low branches they thought they could just pick the fruit from. Sligo will have made the lengthy return journey to their Connacht base camp feeling that they should have taken all three points in a match where they left empty handed.

It was a win Drogheda both needed and appreciated. Too many draws to be effective title chasers, it cements their position in the upper reaches of the league table, some distance off the relegation zone. Vastly different from last year where at one point it looked certain that the drop was precariously opening its jaws to devour Drogheda United and fertilise the lower league with what remained. Kevin Doherty has turned that around and now has the credentials of a serious manager. So, when Drogs fans see a space open up elsewhere as in Shelbourne due to the surprise departure of Damien Duff, there is a touch of trepidation that Doherty might be tempted to throw his hat into the ring. The chance to manage one of the big Dublin teams has a certain allure to it. Against that, there is a sense that Drogheda rather than Shels are on the up, and that hopefully the grass in Tolka Park doesn't look greener than what is sprouting at Sullivan And Lambe.

Settling into our seats, we absorbed the evening sun, appreciating the difference that it made from the previous week when two days played host to a wash out. Drogheda reputedly the least rain troubled spot in Ireland found itself on the end of a status yellow rain warning. None of that mattered on Friday evening. 

The distance from Sligo militates against a large away crowd travelling into Leinster for the games. The Garda Public Order Unit doesn't even turn up as they do when the Dublin teams are visiting.


I now watch Sligo turn out with a heavy heart due to the passing of my closest of friends, Alfie Gallagher, with whom I would attend matches in the Showgrounds. Together, we would make a day and a night of it. The irreplaceable Alfie left a vacuum that simply cannot be filled.


The game had barely got off when the Drogs took a lead as early as the third minute courtesy of a rare league goal from Douglas James Taylor.  Jad Hakiki dwindled on the ball longer than was prudent, allowing the industrious Warren Davis to steal it from his toe and advance before delivering the sweetest of passes to DJT. After that their touch deserted them. Opportunities in front of goal were squandered when it seemed easier to find the net. 

Luke Dennison didn't get man of the match but he should have. A string of fine saves is what clinched it for Drogheda. But when a goalkeeper is man of the match, or is a serious contender, it says a lot about the type of pressure his side is under. The outfield players while appreciating such a display will at the same time be left uncomfortable by it. The question poses itself as to how the opposition managed to reach the last man standing so frequently.


We left the ground relieved but feeling a bit like bandits, claiming all the booty from an ill gotten gain. The Drogs allowed Sligo too much possession. Huge chunks of the game is played in the Drogheda half. Not dominating the ball, while sitting back trying to absorb the pressure that allows those with the ball to exert, has become a trait that needs only one chink exposed. Then, all too easily, three points can become one, or even less. 

⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Drogs ⚽ Sligo ⚽ Just About

Lynx By Ten To The Power Of One Thousand Six Hundred And Ninety Six

Anthony McIntyre ⚽ We were not entirely confident in the car on our way over to the game.


Even the usually optimistic Jay predicted a win for the Rovers: 1-2 was how he saw it working out. Given their reputation for having become this season's draw specialists, and on the back of a goalless result away to Pat's last Friday, I thought it possible honours even might be as much as the Drogs would get from this one.

To make matters worse, Drogheda had to take to the field a few short hours after finding out that despite their Herculean efforts in securing the FAI Cup last season, they will not get to play in Europe. Their attempt to overturn the EUFA decision to bar them was thwarted by the Court of Arbitration for Sport.

As we sat in our seats, despondent at that news, Laura lifted our spirits when she took a quick snap. I love her photos. Miraculously, they tend to make me look younger and less grumpy than I am!


Shamrock Rovers are the in-form team. Runaway leaders, defending champions Shelbourne are twelve points off their lead. The threatened challenge from Pat's has failed to materialise. Those who still retain hopes, no matter how slender, of competing with Rovers must have been hoping Drogheda could put a brake on the advance of the Tallaght men. It wasn't to be. After a fine start which saw the Claret and Blue snatch an early goal the signs were ominous. Rovers attacked and within the space of seconds had three attempts on goal blocked. The power and precision of their efforts were foiled only by some fine goalkeeping and a timely defensive block. Right in front of out seats, it was like watching the frenetic activity of a pin ball machine.

Paddy has more of a tactical and strategic understanding of the game than I do. He quickly spots patterns and the lay out of a formation. He has long maintained that Drogheda are set up much too conservatively. That leaves little room for wonder when the draws begin to accumulate. For me, the problem lies in the front line. It simply does not produce. In Douglas James Taylor and Thomas Oluwa there is little that resembles a serious attacking threat. Because of the ineffectual nature of the forward line the midfield is integrated into the defence, operating more as a shield for the back than a conduit to the front. Midfielders are reduced to playing in a echelonic defence and are grounded there because there is no echelonic attack that they are an integral part of. The odds are that the most likely outcome is a draw. As a winning formula it is not fit for purpose.


Rovers sensing that there was no attacking threat from the Drogs midfield claimed the terrain as their own. Comfortable on the ball they passed from side to side, probing at the wall of claret and blue in front of them. They only needed to penetrate twice, and they did. First, around the forty minute mark when a silly foul on the edge of the box led to a sweet free kick making its way past Luke Dennison in goal. He seemed furious, probably at the free kick being needlessly conceded in such a dangerous area, and secondly because the wall did not do what it was supposed to. Irate, he gesticulated to the away fans who returned it in spades.

Even when Drogheda broke out of defence, there seemed to be nobody they could play the ball too, so defensively minded has this Kevin Doherty side become. Conor Kane, when he did get the better of the Rovers' backs, placed his crosses much too close to the keeper. Even if the expected target men managed to get into position, of which there was little sign, the ball has to be played well out of reach of the keeper.

In the second half Rovers waltzed their way through the Drogs' defence to net a fine finish. It was a blow that kept the Drogs on the canvas until the end of the game. While there were five minutes time added on for stoppages it could have been fifty. There was no sense that the Drogs could salvage anything from the contest.

This Friday the Drogs take on Sligo at Sullivan and Lambe. On Monday they travel to Cork. I will be at both having secured a ticket for the Cork clash. The journey by train is long enough but as there are people in the city I want to hook up with for social reasons, the match is not my sole - even main reason - for going. The most I am expecting from both games is two points.

On the way out of the ground I stopped briefly to chat with Tony, the ever present steward. Not a happy chappie, he felt the Drogs first offered up one testicle to be kicked and then the other. The end result a huge kick in the balls. I walked out of the ground a bit gingerly after that painful but accurate description. The balls that matter ultimately did not reach the net in sufficient quantity.

⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Drogs ⚽ Hoops ⚽ No Europe

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