My take on today:
Your reports increasingly have an ADHD look about them. So Bristol City won the midfield battle? On what planet exactly was that? They were toothless as fuck.
You prefer views on the football not the man, so I'll oblige. Now, in that order, the further we got in the FA cup, the less exciting and more routine our wins have become.
Bristol Rovers was a whacky, good old-fashioned ding-dong battle in the early rounds. They offered a threat and traded blows with us, hoping to catch us out on what was back then a day of zero confidence. They deserved their two goals, we deserved to go through and probably were worthy of more than our three goals. Unlike at any stage in the Prem, we generally carried a goal threat and could have had five. 3-2 it was and ... you felt offended by that. 6-0 was mentioned in dispatches...
Then Plymouth came to town. They looked far more cultured than Rovers, but really only had two chances all match. Granted, one of those could (and should) have made it 1-0, but the other one we gifted them when the game was over. I found this game more boring and less satisfying than the third round, but that was because at 2-0 we looked like cruising to a boring but easy 3-0 win. So to end it 2-1 with moderately soiled pants due to the panic in the last ten minutes felt underwhelming.
It was an easy regulation win without any gloss because we blew up in the end. You and I were both disappointed, you in line with your general tendency towards hyperbole probably even more so than me.
Today, then. Bristol City were worse than both Rovers or Plymouth. We again should have won 3-0. The control was there. The chances were. They hardly had the ball. They did not even manage to sow panic by corners or balls into our box - everybody else has for 30 matches running. They had two chances. Even a percentage machine like Newcastle or t'Pigs who score from 50% of their attempts on target would only have scored the one.
No soilage of pants today. At all. Clean as the ref's whistle when he carded Mawson.
Quite why the pen embarrassed you I do not know. Hard to spot, but handball all day long. Otherwise that shot ripples the net. But no, not only do you expect us to win 3-0 to mid-table championship teams, anything below the standard of Brazil 1970 goals is now "embarrassing" cause we are Prem and should stamp our authority on these kinds of lower-league scufflers. Dear me.
The type of authority that Prem teams in your world magically carry with them - we never had it. Not in the early nineties under Harry, not in 2006 under Uncle Neil, not even last year. Incidentally, neither of Brighton, Norwich, Burnley, Newcastle, Palace, Leeds, Southampton and a long list of other Premier League regulars or occasional visitors have ever displayed this mythical "we're naturally better than you" nobility so we'll tonk all lower-leaguers by scoring beautiful goals and feel embarrassed at pens we get en route.
This was a boring win because it was so low-key. All of Ramsdale, the defence, Didzy and Sharp did their job. 6 or 7s all because they were unremarkable but sound.
Brewster was a 4 - poor kid. Fleck and Lundstram 6 or 5, so slightly disappointing.
Bristol City showed a shocking lack of fight, belief or appetite. Until we brought on Norwood and stopped occupying them in their third, they were happy to lose 1-0. That was before and after the sending off.
By way of comparison, they were every bit as unadventurous as West Ham were at Old Trafford yesterday. In the match by default until somebody scores. Then out of it unless the stars align.
These games are in every cup run. How shite was our 1-0 vs Reading all those years back when Sandford scored? Millwall last year? You want the weakest team in the draw at home simply because they offer the hope of an unbruised, forgotten at ten past ten match like today's.
So the entire premise that this match - if won - could ever offend or annoy you... Why?
Not sure whether you ever go to the Mental Health thread? If not, I suggest you do a bit of behavioural therapy for the quarter final, especially should we draw someone whose standing in the world leads you to believe that we should best them. A Bournemouth or Southampton, like.
Here is the words for your bed-side table in order to chill you out.
"I love Sheffield United."
"Sheffield United owe me nothing. They are not responsible for satisfying my thirst for sexy football."
"Sheffield United are not (and may never be) Premier League class (disregarding the philosophical quandary what the term Premier League class entails)."
"Sheffield United do not cause my anger. Must look harder for the root causes of my desire to exaggerate in literally every report sentence I write".
Pull it off and you might even enjoy another boring 1-0 on that basis. Or accept a 1-3 defeat in good grace.
Because there is an element of boy who cried wolf at play here. If unspectacular, workmanlike wins like Plymouth or Bristol City annoy you, where is your escalation level for the really dreadful days? Academic rumour has it that in linguistic circles, the term Pommpey-speak has become an almost like-for-like equivalent to what you call Wilderball in footballing terms...
. Totally uncalled for.
.)
.
