A win over Millwall invariably encourages hyperbole to come out of hibernation, and grant over excited compliments to a game. There was little in the way of good football in today's victory, but what the game lacked in technique, it did make up for in effort and industry, and no small lack of passion from Faubert and Noble at the very least.
Things started flatly with the usual Fat Sam team sheet of unadventurousnessosity. Then the game kicked off, and we barely saw the ball. Kevin Nolan barely saw the ball either when, in the 8th minute, he decided a two footed challenge was necessary to break up a non-threatening piece of Millwall play. Luckily, it was a challenge timed so badly, and so pedestrian in it's execution that no legs were broken. However, the intent was there for all to see, and I for one wasn't yelling at the referee to don his spectacles. I felt Nolan should go, and Nolan did go, meaning we'd have to see out 82 minutes of the game with 10 men. Great start. Nolan drifting even further down in my estimation.
Unsurprisingly, there then followed a passage of play, which felt like hours, where we were clearly rattled by the decreasing number of our players. The referee chimed in with some needless whistle blowing, and rendered about 20-25 minutes of the first half almost unbearable to watch. Slowly though, things were happening in Mark Noble's little Stegosaurus brain. Taking a good look around, he'd decided he'd had enough of our headless chicken approach, and proceded to take the game by the scruff of the neck. Faubert took notice, and clearly didn't want to be outdone. The two of them pretty much negated the Millwall man advantage, and pretty much negated the need of our other midfielders. Blood and thunder was all very good, and Noble and Faubert were certainly making us look threatening from time to time, but I still didn't feel there was a goal in us, but shortly before half time, there was a goal. A rather nicely taken goal too, from a man without a goal in 9 games. A looping, lofty, wafty ball with no pace on it was despatched goalwards from Carlton with a decent amount of power, and we were ahead, and looking comfortable for it.
If McCartney and O'Brien had looked a little vulnerable at times in the first half, Millwall had done little to push that issue. We were ahead by virtue of effort, and Millwall being worse than us. The second half got underway with little sign that we were a man down, and just as I was about to start thinking the introduction of Taylor for the scrappy and ineffectual Collison was going to propel us towards a second goal, the game entered a phase of unadulterated rubbish.
A bitty, disjointed handful of minutes slogged their way by, and then the previously blunt looking Millwall were level. We'd looked wobbly and were duly punished by a well taken goal from Trotter (no relation) in the 66th minute. Then, when I sensed a collapse might be on the cards, Noble and Faubert remembered that they had been largely running the game and stepped things up, and just 3 minutes later the Irons were celebrating a goal, while Millwall, and David Forde in particular, were wondering where the whistle had gone to. Faubert aided by a spoonful of momentum, a sprinkle of cynicism and a large dose of myopic refereeing, clattered into the Millwall keeper Forde, after a surging run forward. Forde remained on the floor as the ball pinballed it's way back to Winston Reid. I didn't have any particular optimism that a defender, a good distance out of the box, was going to profit from Faubert's clumsy removal of the keeper. Reid clearly had other ideas, and calmly, and sweetly, stuck the ball in the back of the net.
Unsurprisingly Millwall slumped like a team who'd have some of their stuffing removed. We looked in control, occasionally threatened a 3rd, and afforded ourselves the luxury of removing Faubert for O'Neill, continuing his comeback from the Reo Coker inflicted injury that had threatened O'Neill's career. Good football was still largely lacking, but a spirit endured in our play. True to form, we then endeavoured to make the last 5 minutes of play, and the added 5 minutes, a reasonably awkward period.
Far from pretty, aided in no small part by Millwall being rubbish, and a very lucky break in Faubert not being punished for a cynical body check, there was at least encouragement from a never say die charge lead by the impressive looking Noble and Faubert. When needed, the defence stood up, and Cole chimed in with a much needed goal. We had a short glimpse of newly signed Vaz Te, and his hair. Green was quick off his line to snuff out a Millwall chance, and as usual, I couldn't help thinking he was the player we most needed to hang on to after our relegation. Nolan's suspension could be a blessing. We certainly looked better without him and down to 10 men, than we have done with him on the scant occasions I've managed to see us play this season.
A welcome win after the dispiriting 5-1 drubbing by Ipswich. There was character on show, but in truth it was another display that lived up to the Fat Sam (mostly apocryphal) myth of clumping it around and not conceding while showing little tactical acumen...but then again, what do I know? We're still top, we won, and we did Millwall. That's gotta be a collection of good things right?
