Yeovil 1 Bradford City 0
IT MAY have been the longest trip of the season but it was a well-trodden path for the fans.
And not just for the 450 or so who made the marathon trek to the heart of Somerset.
Those queueing in the snow and bitter cold nearly 300 miles away in the hope of a Chelsea ticket could identify this territory equally well.
Oh yes, Chelsea. The name that has dominated every conversation around Valley Parade since Millwall were put to the sword in midweek.
THE game, the only game – or so it seems amid all the hysteria building up to Saturday’s grand day out down the King’s Road.
So Yeovil was buried away almost as an after thought. Check the comments on the internet and social media – Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea.
And of course the inevitable happened at Huish Park. The supposed dress rehearsal was a mish-mash of fluffed lines and stilted performances.
We’ve been here before two seasons ago.
Pre-Aston Villa there was Barnet away; before Wembley, there was Wimbledon. The same scenario of visiting a distant team at the wrong end of the table – and coming home with nothing.
For the long-term City cynics, Yeovil had ticked every box for a Chelsea eve let-down.
Bottom of the league? Check. Hadn’t won at home for four months? Check. Hadn’t scored at home for three months? Check.
There was a knowing sense of resignation about the travelling army.
Phil Parkinson had named the same outfield unit that had destroyed the toothless Lions three days before. But they were a shadow of that side.
While still having more than enough possession to have got at least something from a poor match, City had left that attacking spark on the bus.
They looked tired of thought and mind, especially in the first half hour where they allowed Yeovil to rebuild their own fragile confidence and self-belief.
In hindsight, Parkinson will probably consider that he should have freshened things up and rested a few of the limbs that had put in such monumental efforts in the two previous home games.
But his counter-argument was that this was a bunch flying in spirit and morale. Having battered a team from the division above, they could not wait to be unleashed on the next opponent.
Or, of course, they had Stamford Bridge on their minds.
The tiresome cliché of taking one game at a time is never more fitting than when such a massive occasion looms.
There were no obvious signs of minds drifting to more grander surroundings than Yeovil’s compact home, but this was a laboured and clunky display not in keeping with the exciting form of the last few months.
It was difficult to avoid what happens next. The programme was full of pictures from Yeovil’s own FA Cup brush with Premier League royalty when they ran Manchester United close.
On the wall of the press room, there was Terry in that iconic clenched-fist celebration pose in front of the fans. Only this was Paul, the former Yeovil stalwart, and not the rather more famous brother that City will expect to encounter.
And Yeovil cheekily stuck on the Liquidator instrumental when the teams came out for the second half – the walk-on song they always play at Stamford Bridge. Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea.
Meanwhile the Glovers were manufacturing only their second home win in 13 league attempts to breathe new life into their survival mission.
The winning goal ended a drought that had reached a staggering 532 minutes – a shade under nine hours since they’d last netted against Swindon on October 18.
Such were Yeovil’s selection problems that boss Gary Johnson decided to use centre forward Kieffer Moore as an emergency centre half, a role he had only ever performed in the reserves.
But with senior partner Stephen Arthurworrey guiding him into the right positions, Moore grew in confidence the longer the game progressed and did a fairly decent job against James Hanson and Jon Stead – the “two monsters up front” as Ian Holloway had described them.
And irony of ironies, Moore was up in the City box to claim an assist when the Glovers broke through. He won the header from Sam Foley’s free-kick and Gozie Ugwu controlled well with his chest before neatly side-footing past Jordan Pickford.
Billy Knott had already squandered a promising opening with a heavy touch and Hanson should have done far better when Moore was caught out of position by Stead. The chance fell on his weaker right foot but it was still a poor effort straight at home keeper Ged Steer.
That was a sign of Hanson’s frustrating afternoon in front of goal. His most effective work, in fact, seemed to be in his own penalty area with a couple of important defensive clearances.
Filipe Morais looked City’s most promising threat going forward and his inviting cross at the end of the half went begging from Knott’s glancing header.
At least City had picked up some momentum in the closing stages and they began the second half more like the team we have come to expect.
There was greater urgency about the play but still not enough quality where it mattered.
Hanson charged down Steer’s panicky clearance to spark a counter-attack through Stead. His low ball across the goalmouth missed Knott and Hanson, following up behind, skied high and wide in ugly fashion.
Yeovil were desperate to hang on to what they had and a wall of green and white hoops blocked the home goal. For all City’s control of the possession, Steer was not seriously worked.
There was one final hope that City could avenge the stoppage-time agonies of recent weeks when Hanson was clipped by the D. But sub Alan Sheehan pulled the free-kick wide and the Huish faithful could let out a collective sigh of relief.
Six of Yeovil’s points – a quarter of their tally – have come off City and the Johnson curse lives on. With Oldham’s two victories under Gary’s son Lee, that’s four losses at the hands of their family.
Back-to-back league defeats have also seen any advantage on the chasing play-off pack slashed away. In fact Rochdale, who would have been eight points behind if City had won at Valley Parade last week, have now deposed them in fifth.
At least a first appearance in 15 years in the FA Cup fourth round should offer a timely distraction now. Remind me who they’re playing again?
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