We were nervy and playing well within ourselves, the barcodes had plenty of the ball but no real team work. Ben Arfa and Cabaye deciding to balloon attempt after attempt into the upper stand much to our relief and our own quality of final ball being somewhat lacking made it tough to watch. The only highlight for me was one of levity. Cheik Tiote went up with Poldi for a header, taking his eye off the ball and getting smashed in the face and going down as if shot from the grassy knoll. Luckily Poldi was nowhere near him. From a certain angle that might have seemed malicious, but the only contact was from the ball itself. Thankfully though, no real harm was done and the lad got up and continued with no lasting harm done except to his pride.
We were linked with both Chiek and Yanga-Mbiwa extensively and on this showing I'm glad we let those ships pass in the night. Mbiwa especially looked lost and seemed both unable to pass or control a simple ball to feet. Ramsey ran around and was everywhere, but his passing today was awful. All in all a half to forget, only sweeter for the tiny tots scoreline and the touching Barcode standing ovation to the departing keeper Steve Harper. He had revealed he was close to tears when fans chanted his name in his farewell game.
“Everyone started clapping... and I was wobbling,” he said.Classic.
“But then Podolski smashed me in the family allowance and that snapped me out of it.”
Second half we had more purpose, The Ox seemed to move into Arteta's slot well enough and for once we started to make the ball work for us. The game was still scrappy and I'm probably not the only one thinking that our first goal would come from a set piece. So it proved, Theo corner to Poldi who nodded it on. The Boss acted first, pirouetting and smashing the ball into the net before Harper could react. I shouted goal so loud the chap with the chainsaw half way up the trees in the back garden nearly tumbled out of it. Which also goes to prove the intelligent choice is always to strap yourself in, be it the car or a 50 foot tree.
We didn't really press any further until Oli came on, and his presence was two foldedly effective. First he held up the ball and allowed us some time to actually move around and create some space, secondly he muscled his way into a few good situations and very nearly capped his display with a cheeky chip over Harper. Theo must be wondering how he managed to turn the chance of the season to the worst miss of the season and one could understand his palpable frustration at that point. Time and again the through ball went wide, behind him or missing him in space alone altogether. As I said before, Ramsey was the worst culprit here and his industry didn't quite make up for the errant passing. Thankfully it wasn't punished.
With the tiny tots scoring (and what a goal it was too) the last ten minutes went end to end. The barcodes had only to equalize and the tots would leapfrog us into the CL. It seemed word got to the lads and we started to look a little vulnerable. That was until Oli took the the game by the scruff of the neck, winning, holding and muscling his way into the last few moments and helping us make history. Sixteen seasons, not Bayern, Barcelona or real Madrid can boast this.
I think the barcodes were a little annoyed with our lads celebrations, if only because they wanted to take that stage themselves and show their appreciation for the departing Harper. Still, our celebrations were justified. Firstly thanking the fans that out sang the Geordies all day, and have followed the team through thick and thin and secondly to celebrate the 10 game turn over of the tiny tots. 8 wins and 2 draws is phenomenal. We only had a seven point differential to overtake this season, and the tiny tots plastic wheels coming off the wagon helped, but take nothing away from the lads. The last 10 games point tally was the ultimate difference.
Thoughts and words can now turn to transfers, structure and the other sources of infighting that will have to fill our days until we reform after the break and put our collective boots on in anger once again.
I'm off to hoist a rather large drink in toast, for those wishing to join me, Sláinte!
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