The Lads went to New York and were basically bullied out of the contest - which is a bit unfair on Rotherham, who outplayed us as well as being stronger and keener. 5-1 was no more than they deserved, and no less than we deserved for an error-strewn performance that bodes ill for the rest of the season. For all we have two players for most positions, we don't have a bully in our squad - someone who can physically impose themselves on the opposition, and that omission might well cost us a top two spot come May.
The journey south was wet, we once again dissected Saturday's refereeing performance (and referee) and discussed who we thought was offside on Tuesday. At least two QPR players, apparently. At half ten, all electronic devices on the bus were redirected to Soccer AM and the League Cup draw.
Once in the Black Rock in Wakefield, where we were mistaken for Smoggies despite the striped shirts, we awaited the emergence of ball number 6.... and it was second out, after number 1. Away again, naturally...at Arsenal, so we started planning our Wembley weekend at the end of February. You can't beat blind optimism...or the relief you feel at turning off Soccer AM.
Suitably refreshed, we proceeded in a series of ever-decreasing circles to the New York stadium, in the sunshine, and the end next to the Eric Twigg Memorial Stand. Thanks for the Pukka Pies, Eric.
We set up defending the far end, and lined up:
Hoffmann
Winchester Doyle Flanagan Cirkin
O'Nien Embleton Neil
Dajaku Stewart McGeady
They kicked off, and from the off, their tactic of having wingers as wingbacks belting forward kept getting us undone on our right, and that's where the opening goal came from. Only twelve minutes in, the ball was crossed and the header floated into the far corner of the net.
Poor start, to put it mildly.
Three minutes later there was a rare bright moment as we managed to knack two of their players at the same time, but that was nought but a brief respite. With their number 10 holding the ball up well, we were constantly on the back foot, but managed to get a grip of things for a while. Dan Neil threaded the ball to Stewart, and things seemed to go into slow motion as he checked inside from the left and plonked home the equaliser on 24.
We're back!
It actually looked like we'd go ahead for a while, but on 41 we were carved apart again and Rotherham got their second. It was just reward for basically being keener to get to the loose ball first, not being scared of putting themselves in the way of things, and generally being stronger all over the pitch. For a while, we managed to match the Millers for effort and had several opportunities as we found our way through their defence. Stewart, on the end of a fine passing move, found space for a shot from the edge of the area that came back off the keeper's right hand post - to safety, when getting level might have changed the complexion of the game.
Might, but probably not. Rotherham dominated the four added minutes, and I've no idea what LJ's halftime talk consisted of, but it very obviously didn't work.
We replaced the energetic but hopelessly out of sorts O'9 and the slightly unlucky Embo with Wright and Gooch, sort of trying to match the Millers' set up.
It failed. Within seconds, Geads was booked for something really innocuous, then Rotherham won a couple of corners, taking maximum advantage of being able to place the ball outside the quadrant - a silly rule that basically allows players to take the micky out of the officials. Not as silly as our defending, mind, as Doyle was left for dead and it was 3-1, giving the magpie in their midst to celebrate in obnoxious fashion in front of us.
Three minutes later, and with their man chasing the ball out of play, Geads flew in with a ludicrous challenge that would probably be a straight red in the Prem, but a second yellow was enough to send him down the tunnel with well over half an hour to go....and that removed any chance, slim as it might have been, of getting owt from the game.
Evans came on for Dajaku a couple of minutes later, but from there on in it was strictly damage limitation. Gooch did get down the right a few times, but with a man lacking, there wasn't the backup to Stewart.
There was a yellow for Evans as we inexplicably tried to play it out against a team who'd been pushing us back since 3pm. Daft, just draft - under those circumstances, just hoof the thing up the field and worry about conceding possession in their half, not our own penalty box. It's not rocket science, is it?
Yet another cross was put away for the Millers' fourth and a disgruntled fan went past me muttering "I'm not paying to watch that." A bit late, marra, you already have, and we were subject to some icy stares from the Green Street over 60s reunion massive in the home end, who inexplicably buggered off home with ten to go.
Then they announced that visiting fans wouldn't have to leave the ground to get on our coaches. Hmm.
With a couple of minutes to go, Wright played the ball short to Hoffmann near the goal-line, Hoff made a complete arse if it, and Kayode simply waltzed goalwards and scored. Exactly the sort of goal you concede when you're 4-1 down and playing like a bag of bacon bits.
They found four added minutes from somewhere, we faffed about, and dropped three points. Arsenal must be wetting themselves laughing at the prospect of our December visit. Nowhere near good enough, Sunderland.
Man of the Match? As nobody had a really good game, and several stunk the place out, and purely because he scored one and nearly got a second, it has to be Ross Stewart.
Sort it out, Lee
