29 October 2016
IPSWICH TOWN 2 ROTHERHAM UNITED 2
Only one statistic matters in football: the number of goals scored by each team. From there flow all the other numbers that really count: points, prizes, promotions and premature sackings. Ask Alan Stubbs, who knows that to his cost. Stubbs was Rotherham's manager for the first 13 league games of this season, in which the Millers managed to amass a mere five points alongside an appalling goal difference of minus 18. By the middle of October Stubbs had been sacked and Kenny Jackett brought in.
A few games back Mick McCarthy's Ipswich team was enduring similar woes, at the other end of the pitch. A stretch of five league matches had yawned without yielding a single goal. For many other games before that spell, this season and last, Ipswich fans had also endured single figure totals for (even the most optimistic) goal efforts; whilst the shots or headers actually on target, could often be counted on the fingers of only one hand.
Statistically therefore this game threatened to be awful. But what do numbers know? Not much apparently because for a neutral spectator (and I know because I went with one) this was a reasonable spectacle, topped by an exceptional goal. Ipswich scored in the third minute, Lawrence taking much preparatory thought before drilling (or was it scuffing?) his free kick from the right bye-line to Rotherham's near post. Deliberately drilled or carelessly scuffed, Freddie Sears didn't care; and he deftly flicked the ball in for a rare first half Ipswich goal. Yet three minutes later Rotherham were level. A corner from their right wing was headed away by Webster, nodded back by Taylor and Rotherham's Danny Ward, having been played onside by Ipswich's off-balance captain Luke Chambers, gratefully swivelled on the edge of the six yard box to prod home from close range. 1-1 it was after seven minutes and despite sustained spells of neat Ipswich passing, and the occasional Rotherham threat from Halford's titanic long throws, that would remain the score until just after the second half had started.
Having perhaps pulled a muscle catapulting those long throws, Halford was replaced after 35 minutes. Not that anybody really noticed as his team mate Vaulks simply stepped up to continue the fast bowling. It was his immense looping lob that, having nearly reached the penalty spot, so baffled Ipswich's centre halves in the 48th minute that they ran into each other a fraction before its arrival. Their momentary confusion allowed Ward to nip in and volley the ball delicately past a helpless goalkeeper, to claim his second close range goal of the afternoon.
Barely suppressed panic bubbled amongst the Ipswich players and barely suppressed rage amongst some of the fans. Both increased incrementally as second half minutes ticked by, punctuated by successful time-wasting Rotherham tactics, and episodes of inept refereeing. Mick McCarthy sent on Williams and Best for Bishop and Ward in the 66th minute, and in the 83rd minute replaced the impressive young full back Kenlock with the thoroughly old fashioned centre forward Luke Varney. By then it was too late, at least for some of the Ipswich crowd. From the 80th minute small, disparate groups from different parts of the North Stand started to singdiscontent. By the 90th minute their words were clearly audible in every corner of the ground and to all the players: ‘Mick McCarthy, your football is shit'.
Which is where we come back to statistics of which, it is famously and unfairly repeatedly said ‘there are lies, damnedlies and statistics'. The statistics on this match were clear and honest. Ipswich had 66% of the possession, practically double that of Rotherham. They managed 17 shots of which 5 were on target, and had 5 corners. In all cases again these figures were practically double those of their opponents. McCarthy had picked his most attacking side for many months and they had played attractive passing football, creating a slew of first-half half-chances, against opponents who were resolutelyorganised and had run themselves into the turf. Yet it is only goals that matter and in this case amazingly, not even goals. In the 94th minute and just as the referee was clearing his throat for the final whistle, McGoldrick volleyed a stunning low drive from over 25 yards out. Even the agile and competent Lee Camp could do nothing about it. The scorer celebrated, the singing stopped, the crowd cheered, the goal stood, the kick off was taken, the whistle blew and the booing recommenced: all in the space of a few fractious seconds.
And so it ended Ipswich 2 Rotherham 2: by Championship standards a pretty entertaining game and no losers on the pitch. Just multiple losers and much sadness off it, in both dugouts and every stand. For Rotherham's fans and player, sadness about the three points that might have been; and for significantly vocal sections of Ipswich's home crowd, for the lack of goals and ambition that had prevailed, in so many dull and graceless games before this one.
Though to be absolutely fair and journalistically accurate that dearth of goals and ambition had not actually been visible to me, in this particular match; that around 15,000 other people had also watched, and which a few hundred had booed.
Lies, damned lies and statistics eh?
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