TWO falls, two submissions or a knockout… to say it was a robust encounter at Fratton Park would be an under-statement. It was bad-tempered, ill-disciplined and spiteful with nasty tackles, naughty off the ball snapping and even dreadlock tugging. And it was largely unpoliced by a referee who lost his grip early on and never really recovered. Trevor Kettle, google him, he’s got form.
The first half was blood spattered carnage with a series of injury knocks, physio appearances for both sides and sporadic outbreaks of tetchy niggling. The second half saw goals – including two penalties – break through the chaos but with Pompey scrapping for their lives on and off the pitch the simmering tensions, stoked up by some erratic reffing, boiled over frequently.
Eleven yellows and a red… and to be honest there could have been more: Rocha should have been sent off for hauling Emnes back by his locks when already on a yellow but the ref opted not to bother to enforce the rules on that occasion – yet 20 seconds later sent off Rhys for a sly dig when he was on a booking. Haroun could have been pedalled after losing his head and was taken off by Mowbray before he was red carded and there was an incident in a crowd near the end where Bates – again, already on a card – was being accused to having Decked Allan.
It was fantastic! It was tense, fierce and at times malevolent and the pressure from Pompey high-stakes brinkmanship – it could easily be their last game – helped make it an explosive atmosphere. Boro had to be strong to stand up to the physicality of the game, had to stay calm when the home side clawed one down and stepped up the blitz on the box and although there were times when they almost lost control and boiled over, they showed real steel, kept their shape and just about kept a lid on their tempers.
It was a vital win. Back on track. More later.
**Note: A lot of sympathy for the Pompey fans, a lot of who are convinced they have just watched their last game. There was an air of fatalism among the local press and supporters and thousands stayed behind to chanting defiantly. There were still a few hundred there when we left nearly an hour after the whistle. Respect. As ever, when the sharp suits, money men and chancers ransack a club it is the fans – the only people who really care – who are shafted and are left to pick up the pieces.