A real tough one today. Saltergate and a visit to the pain in the arse that was, is and for ever shall be Chesterfield.
A good home side with an irritatingly solid and passionate following that like to refer to themselves as “the famous CFC”. I take their optimism but surely the most famous CFC’s are those shitty gasses you get from fridges and stuff that shag the ozone layer? CFC’s are also real pain in the arse – which is an irrelevant but wonderfully apt coincidence.
This is also the same CFC that caused untold problems during the spring of 1995. With only two automatic promotion places available from the despair that was Nationwide Division Three and everyone requiring snookers to catch long time leaders Carlisle United it was left to us and the Spireites the fight for the other automatic spot. At one point our noses were well in front but a series of postponements left us a few points behind the ante with about four games in hand. Frustratingly the knack of converting games in hand into points deserted us and we went into March neck & neck. Frustratingly the South Sheffield outfit (they love that!) refused to crumble and the tension became greater and greater.
This climaxed in a 3 - 1 reverse at home to Chesterfield where the ever lovable Roy Whalley announced to the entire Stadium how important the result was (like we didn’t fucking know) just as the Chesterfield team passed alongside him and made their way onto the pitch. Nice one Roy. That night I remember feeling about as useless as Evander Holyfield’s earring collection.
However, like all good stories, the baddies eventually come unstuck, the goodies prevail and our rearranged Bury away fixture produced a Thursday evening that will never be forgotten.
On to this one and it was a game we needed to take something from. Two defeats had left a few questions about the team and were they struggling to implement Uncle Ray’s methodology.
The Saddlers went back to basics and produced a tight performance where the main objectives were (a) ensure you don’t lose and (b) try and nick it. Both worked masterfully and Uncle Ray looked rather chuffed as he left the field.
For the record, we suffocated the game amazingly well and Andy Rammell headed the winner in genuine Trevor Christie fashion. Indeed he is in serious danger of becoming a real cult hero with the Saddlers fans.
Is this the same Andy Rammell who was dubbed the camel when we were north of the border? Visually he looks the same one but it can’t be, can it? Man of the match by a mile.