Mrs Zagger was up at 5am to head out on a fuel hunt, which was probably about the time the majority of the 760 Plymouth fans set off from home for today’s match at Lincoln. This was our destination too, a first mission as footsoldiers in the Green Army. Not quite as random as it sounds this, though nearly; Mrs Zagger’s dad’s wife’s grandchildren and their step-dad all being avid Argyle fans. Away to Accrington on a Tuesday night type of avId. More of that later.
There was a feature in the Guardian today on Richard Keogh and the problems he has faced of late. It was a moving piece which, together with a few other things has made me reconsider my position on RK. Firstly, my recent forays into lower league football seem to have re-connected me with players and made me appreciate their fragility and humanity a bit more. It’s easy to be detached from the super-rich characters of the Premier League and Championship and see them as other-worldly. Gods with feet of clay, not worthy of normal human feelings. Some of this is their own fault, of course. And some comes down to fans. I’m as guilty of this as anyone, but increasingly I realise they’re just lucky, extremely talented lads who have got to live the dream. Generally, who they end up playing for is an irrelevance and while it’s OK to jeer and dislike them in a pantomime villain sort of way, anything more is (usually) not reasonable. Secondly, the whole Covid thing and some mental health issues of my own have just made me want to be nicer in general - hence the “If you can’t say anything nice…” theme to the blog. Can’t promise to always stick to that and some characters really stress-test it to the limit, but I’ll stick at it as best I can. Thirdly, there’s the article itself and the realisation that RK has had severe depression problems since and has clearly been treated shoddily by Derby. And that’s after being left for dead in a car-crash by his mates.
For a long time, Keogh was, to paraphrase Cloughie, maybe not the person in football I’d most like to slap, but certainly in the top one. He’s appeared arrogant and unlikeable many-a-time in local Derbies, but perhaps that’s not the best arena in which to judge a man’s character. Whatever, I take it all back and wish him well in his current role at Blackpool.
At our end of the A52, things are going uncharacteristically well. Steve Cooper has got off to a flyer and on current form Forest will get promoted, win the Premier League next year, Champions League the year after that and then we can all get gloomy and angry about disappointing nil-nils away at teams we’ve never heard of in the Europa League for a few seasons. En route, we’ll provide the nucleus of an all-conquering England World Cup winning team, just for good measure. Nothing can go wrong.
Meanwhile, people who spent much of the last two years slating Ryan Yates (whoops, that’ll be me then) are eating a bit of humble pie today after, by all accounts, he had a stormer. Much maligned keeper Brice Samba also played out of his skin, which will no doubt be boiling the piss of the haters who sit behind us at home. Same trio will no doubt also be having to reconsider their position on Lewis Grabban, who apparently is “just not good enough” (best said in a really, really whiny voice) but who has now hit a rich vein of form to go with his undoubted zillion percent effort over the years.
Back to Lincoln then. I’d not been to SIncil Bank since a Forest pre-season friendly donkeys years ago and it’s obviously been redeveloped a great deal since. Outside, in the lashing rain, a decent bar, remarkably decent food and a feel a bit more like a German fan-park. Inside, a lovely bar perfectly welcoming to away fans Including our merry throng.
We splashed through the deluge to take our seats in a stand named after one of the two main protagonists in that sitcom about the Essex lad and the girl in Barry Island. Apologies to any passing Imps fans who must’ve heard that a million times before.
Said stand was well filled by 760 travellers, a fantastic turn out in any circumstances but given the fuel-crisis, even more so. A mere 600 mile round journey and, presumably, at least ten hours on the road. I’d been told to expect a good atmosphere and I wasn’t disappointed; Argyle fans certainly get behind their boys. In fairness, the Lincoln fans did their bit too, especially the noisy bunch around the drummer. In fact, in appearance and feel, it all felt very pleasantly Bundesliga 2, which for me is a very good thing.
Lincoln started strongly, but Argyle got their defence organised and took control of the first half. Mostly. It was no surprise when Argyle went 1-0 up with an angled drive from in-form Ryan Hardie. It could’ve been two or three by half-time but for some ropey finishing and a couple of great saves. I’ve no idea of names now, but 7, 14 and 28* for Argyle all looked a handful. Mathematicians might be spotting a pattern there and wondering about 21. Or 56.
One for the Forest fans, here, it was interesting to see Liam Bridcutt in action, captaining Lincoln, and he was influential until going off injured in the first half.
Ryan Hardie appeared to come out for the second half minus an ear, his tab entirely replaced by a huge swathe of cotton wool. Eventually, this injury forced him off! Lincoln came out much stronger in the 2nd half and had a dominant ten minutes. Just as it seemed Argyle had ridden this out, a great cross from the left eluded the defence and was scuffed in from close range. Game on.
Argyle went 2-1 up in the 74th minute in controversial circumstances - a corner was only partly cleared and as the ball was flighted back in the defence looked for an offside flag which never came. Brendan Galloway hooked it home, but there was certainly more than a hint of offside about it. Cue ecstacy in the away end as Argyle, pre-season relegation favourite, looked to be going top. Fortunately, there were enough Forest fans in the dreadful fluorescent away kit present to prevent a pitch invasion and keep order.
The bloke behind me had voiced some worries about Argyle’s habit of throwing away leads and his fears were justified as Argyle full back Galloway dragged down a Lincoln attacker (Sorensen) in the 90th minute to give away a penalty. Scully smashed it home, sending the keeper the wrong way. Later a Lincoln fan who had been nearby said it was definitely not in the box and there probably wasn‘t any contact, but he looked happy enough about it!
The additional seven minutes saw few chances, but a half-decent brawl on the far touch line after a Lincoln player appeared to be well and truly launched by an (unknown to me) opponent. Astonishingly, no one was even booked when sendings-off looked inevitable.
And that was it. Argyle stay third and their social media response varies between apoplectic and depressed to delighted to be there. ”Bottlers’ one said, but they looked anything but to me. Based on this, I’d suggest a decent side and full of spirit. But then I’d not travelled 5 hours to see them throw away a lead, didn’t face another 5 hours home and also hadn’t lt seen it all before, so who am I to say? Bloody tourists.
What I would say is that Argyle would be a good addition to the Championship - a big club, great following and, by all accounts, a lovely home ground. I’ll be visiting that later in the season. A positive word for Lincoln too - we met some great Imps fans before and after and the club has a great feel about it that I can’t quite put my finger on. But no… they can’t have Brennan Johnson back!
* 7 Broom, 14 Garrick, 28 Camara
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