Pre-season friendlies fall into two categories. The first category is the ‘prestige friendly’, normally against a glamorous-but-not-quite-a-top team from Italy or Spain, at the start of August with the full glare of the blazing summer sun overhead. If you listen carefully, you can hear the sound of the players gently snoozing before the game even starts. Shortly followed by the slightly more robust mutterings of “I can’t believe I have actually paid to watch this”.
I have vowed to myself I would never attend one of these games again. Or, to be more truthful, I make the same vow every year. Then the inevitable happens and I find myself inside the Jarrold stand (“maybe a change of view will make it worthwhile”, I lie to myself every year), instantly yearning for a refund of my 15 pounds which would be better saved to buy half a hotdog at the Emirates.
The games that fall into the second category are the David against Goliath matches. Of course this category includes lower league teams such as Southend, Posh etc, but the games that – for some bizarre and quite possibly nerdy reason – catch my imagination every year are the ones against local teams, more often than not hosted and attended by very ‘local’ people. Over the years I have been to Dereham, Fakenham, King’s Lynn, Yarmouth, Lowestoft, Swaffham and Diss, to name but a few of the renowned beauty spots.
And so this year, inevitably, I found myself in what could only be described as monsoon conditions in Gorleston. Whereas last year I feared heatstroke at Aldiss Park, this year I feared trench foot at Emerald Park. The ‘executive car park’ was a bizarre mixture of sunburned, spiky tufts of grass and deep, brown muddy water. It was like I had stumbled right into the middle of an Everglades exhibition at the Model Village in Yarmouth.
Once inside the ground I was suitably impressed. Think a miniature Loftus Road, but coloured emerald green and black instead of royal blue, and you’ll not be far away. No grass banking here that is normally a key feature of the normal non-league facility, that’s for sure. No, on three sides of the ground were identikit stands, each with two rows of seats and enough leg room for Peter Crouch wearing stilts. The owner of the club walked through all the stands, thanking everyone for coming along. One could get used to this. Roman, the standards have been set.
It wasn’t all good news though. The club DJ had clearly only brought box one of his vinyl, and so before the game we meandered through the 60s, 70s and 80s with Motown, Abba and The Bangles. We peaked chronologically with the soundtrack from Flashdance.
Before I meander on any more, I must remember this is actually a match report. The proprietor of this blog wanted me to suggest what we could learn from the game today. A task which I know, as a veteran of inaugural games of the season, is absolutely pointless. They mean nothing, they indicate nowt. Gunn’s team took apart Premiership Wigan two years ago, remember, with Simon Whaley looking like David Beckham…
No, it’s just a kick about, a pass and move session, a keep ball presentation. This game was no different in all honesty. Gorleston didn’t have a shot. Not a single one. Not even the usual meaty over-the-top tackle from a hot-headed member of the opposition that gets the visiting Norwich fans spluttering and the home fans proclaiming “huh, they’re playing [insert non-league team name here] now, they don’t like it up ’em”. I could write a match report, but in all honesty its not really worth it, and you’ll have already read the write-ups from the Archant pros in any case. For me, its enough to report, “no injuries, no alarms, job done”.
Of course, the other draw for attending these games is the appearance of the new players. Here, for what it is worth, are my first impressions on them:
Ritchie de Laet – looks a bit like Luke Chadwick on steroids. He looks calm, assured and composed. Appeared to be very comfortable using either foot. Can’t remember his shirt number.
Bradley Johnson – he’s a beast of a player, who loves – and I mean loves – a long shot. Expect to be thrilled / infuriated by that trait over the coming months. He and Crofts were the dual midfield enforcers in the second half 4-4-2. Wore number 4.
Steve Morison – You wouldn’t mess. Nuff said. Wore number 5.
James Vaughan – I like the look of him – he cares. I have never seen a player, whilst warming up on the sidelines for a friendly, jumping up and down in frustration watching the game and berating playing players for ‘missing the run’. Tried very hard when he came on – possibly too hard, as not a lot came off for him, and was guilty of missing a couple of sitters. Wore number 8.
Elliott Bennett – I love a good quick winger, and so I anticipated his appearance the most. And he didn’t disappoint, even after applying the statutory caveat of, “it’s only Gorleston”. He ran the wing like his life depended on it, knocking the ball past the left back on numerous occasions and simply ran round the outside of him effortlessly. Most importantly though perhaps, he appeared to be linking perfectly with the Norfolk Cafu (© me after QPR last season). Beware the overlap Premier league, beware… . Wore number 17.
Anthony Pilkington – didn’t play, but sat down on a seat impeccably.
@LeeCoolahan
Little Norwich 