Taking Care Of Business

So the puff of white smoke has emerged from the Barbot Hall chimney and Ronnie Moore has been announced as the new manager. While some of the other London Millers are getting really excited at the thought of having him back, I’m simply incandescent with indifference. Given everything he achieved the first time round – followed by the appalling season he put us through when he started being distracted by personal problems – it’ll take quite a bit to convince me that this was the best decision. And, as I make perfectly clear as I’m getting the coffees at King’s Cross, the words ‘king’ and ‘messiah’ are banned, in case people mistake us for sad Newcastle fans.
As with the Morecambe game, it’s Jenny, Steve Ducker and me travelling up, via Donny and Meadowhall. As we pass the DVS, Steve says we should keep an eye out to see whether the hordes are already queuing in anticipation of Ronnie’s return, but as ever the only people walking down to the stadium at this time of day are the waiting staff for the hospitality suite.
We’re almost to the Fat Cat when we realise we’re being followed by Chris Kirkland, resplendent in his yellow away shirt. Also wandering to the pub are a couple of Barnet fans. One of them asks me whether there’s anywhere else where rival fans would go so far from the ground to the pub, but as I tell him (and he can’t help but agree) it’s a good pub.
Surprisingly, it’s less busy than we expected, given the glorious weather, and along with Mr Kyte we find a table in the beer garden. Steve is drinking a pint of Red Molly, which he says he’s chosen as it’s a reference to a character in a Fairport Convention song. The things you learn on a football trip...
Jenny wants to make sure she’s at the ground early to guarantee she gets a programme, and when we arrive at the tram stop the conductor tells us they’re turning a train round as there’s a gap in the service. Cardiff are at Hillsborough – draw your own conclusions. We still have to sit on the tram for a while, but Chris is in contact with Chris Burrows, who’s already in the ground, and puts in an order for programmes. Of course, when we finally get to the DVS there are more programme sellers milling around than we’ve seen in ages, but Chris has already done the business and got everyone who wanted one a ‘Ronnie souvenir special’.
We think we’ll be fighting for space to hang the flag again, but there’s no sign of the Greasebrough Millers or the other odd flags which appear from time to time. Again, Jenny and I bump into our new best friend Drewe Broughton, but this time we don’t have to ask him to move anywhere. He probably just thinks we’re stalking him now...
Everything is building up to the big moment – no, not kick-off, but Ronnie being introduced to the crowd. He gets the expected massive ovation as he makes his way to the directors’ box, thugh there’s a little scepticism about his appointment in our corner of the family stand, but today isn’t about him, really; it’s about the team Steve Thornber and Paul Warne have put out in their last game as caretakers and whether they can achieve anything against a Barnet team who did the double over us last season.
Within five minutes it seems they might, as Kevin Ellison makes a well-timed run from behind the Barnet defence; Alf slips the ball into his path and it’s a simple finish. However, I seem to recall that last season we took the lead against this lot really early on and then got complacent. No such behaviour today, though. We’re managing to keep their main threatxs, winger Albert Adomah and Paul Furlong, 75, quiet. Barnet are a bit of a dirty team, but the ref is letting a lot of stuff go – as my dad points out towards the end of the game, he gives Barnet all the decisions in the first half and us all the decisions in the second. They have one good chance, but Don makes the only real save they force him into for the whole game. We double the lead when Pope takes the ball down the wing and Nicky Law, who missed such a good chance to win the game at Chelters last week, gets it right this time, dinking the ball over the keeper.
Amazingly, the half-time draw is a Chuckle Brothers-free zone – I’d like to think that they’ve escaped from wherever they’re being held captive by sawing off their feet with a big two-handled saw, saying, ‘To me, to you,’ as they do, but the truth is they’re probably off somewhere rehearsing for the panto season. Instead, ex-player Mark Todd does the honours and we’re treated to another underwhelming display from the four-woman Millers Dance Troupe, or whatever they’re called this week.
In the second half, Barnet continue to huff and puff. Dale Tonge gets a blow to the head and has to be replaced by Mark Lynch, while Pope, who’s put in a good, solid shift, is substituted for Ryan Taylor. Taylor has a couple of chances, and Ellison, who’s definitely the man of the match today, skews the ball horribly wide, though we can’t decide whether he was shooting or crossing. Le Fondre gets our third goal, again beating the offside trap, before being replaced by Warney in what could well be a vanity substitution. Again, Barnet have only had one really good chance in the half, and it’s probably our most assured performance of the season so far.
Back at the tram stop, we just miss one and have to wait ages for the next – obviously they still haven’t sorted out the service after whatever happened earlier. However, we get a fast train to Donny, so we’ll still have time for all the vital tasks – a pint, a Green ’Un and a sandwich. I get a text from my brother to say that Colin Todd has left Darlo. Ted hasn’t bothered with their trip to Grimsby today – his theory is that they’ve won so well there over the last few seasons without his presence that the time he turns up is the time they’ll lose. They’ve drawn, as I find out when I bump into Ted’s mate Martin on Donny station. He’s resigned to the situation (no pun intended), but his main priority at the moment is nipping off to get some chips before he catches his train back to London.
Again, we wring the maximum entertainment value from the Green ’Un on the way home, though after last week’s De-da Derby much of the paper is taken up with United and Wednesday fans sniping at each other. We can just sit back and enjoy it, knowing who’s really supporting the best team in Sheffield...