Taylor teaches Tam some useful tricks

Below, from her diary, is an alternative report on last night's game at Tamworth by Glynis Wright.

We set out for Tamworth, and another evening spent watching 'Im Indoors's -other- side, Hereford, doing battle with the part-time Conference outfit. For once, I was glad the journey was conducted in the dark, because once off the motorway, there's nothing but a vista of out-of-town shopping malls, fast-food outlets, a 'formula-food pub' and a leisure centre boasting an artificial ski-run to admire. Ghastly, and yet another example of these American-inspired monstrosities totally sucking every ounce of life and vigour out of a perfectly-acceptable town centre. Yuk.

Once we'd parked up - the attendant asked us what faction we supported, then said: "If you park with the Hereford lot, you'll get boxed in, but if you go to the home supporters' bit, you shouldn't have a problem getting away" - we then made tracks for the away turnstile situated approximately a hundred yards away. A quick flash of the old cash, and the purchase of a couple hot drink once inside, we then shifted to the away seats to make contact with our Edgar Street chums. Once more, the programme read like an Albion Old Boys Reunion; Bulls coach Tucka Trewick apart, on the field of play for them were Tam Mkandawire, Danny Carey-Bertram and Brian Smikle, who goes by the nickname 'Junior' in cider-slurping country. Tamworth? Looking most incongruous in their first-choice red kit was - well, just how do you describe a former Albion legend, one of the finest professionals I've ever seen grace a football field, and now tripping the light fantastic in the Conference?

That's right, SuperBob - and by rights, he shouldn't have been out there at all! He'd sustained a nasty knee ligament injury a couple of games back, and he'd been told not to play, but when he heard Tamworth were suffering from a scoring crisis, 568 minutes of action without a goal, and regular strikers not available that evening for one reason or another - he simply stepped into the breach, which just goes to show, yet again, what an all-round good egg the guy is.

Not to mention the effect he had on the Bulls within a couple of minutes of the start - in a word, 'devastating'. Hereford's problem arose because one of the Tamworth lads gave the ball an almighty thump upfield, and as luck would have it, the 'route-one' express-delivery landed right at the feet of the former Hawthorns favourite, who was situated on the left flank and about 20 yards from the goal the visitors were defending. And, as fate would have it, who was trying to put a stop to his antics? Tam, unfortunately; such had been the flight of the ball, and Bob's superb control once he'd got the thing, it all boiled down to a case of Mister Mkandawire being the only obstacle that stood between him and the Bulls net. A case, if you like, of the master craftsman versus his former pupil. Sure, Tam tried everything he knew to stop Supes, but to no avail. Bob wriggled, bumped and bounded free in the twisty-turny way only an old pro can, and the net shook. Most certainly a case of the old dog demonstrating some very useful tricks to the young whipper-snapper, and one-nil to Tamworth.

You certainly couldn't blame the home side for deciding to dig in and protect their unexpected lead; as I said such was the magnitude of their recent inability to score, they'd been dropping points left, right, and centre over the past few weeks. And, try as they might, the visitors were finding it awfully heard to rectify the deficit. Mind you, what couldn't have helped was what amounted to a pre-match devastating blow. Apparently, one of their lads, a chap named Brown, one of their stalwarts, had his contract cancelled by mutual consent for some unspecified reason, and the word was, he was going to another Conference club. The news must have hit the players like a half-end brick.

But the visitors did equalise eventually, The Tamworth defensive fortress had looked impossible to break down, until the visitors were unexpectedly presented with a little portion of luck. It was a goalkeeping howler of Crichton-esque proportions from Ryan Price that gifted the Bulls the equaliser. He completely stuffed up a hopeful ball forward and Brian Smikle nipped in to set up Danny Williams for a simple tap-in. and then their case was assisted considerably by the fact that one of the Tamworth mob, Adie Smith, was sent off for his second bookable offence just before half-time. One yellow card for a reckless bit of tackling not being sufficient warning, not long afterwards, the guy then did precisely the same thing, and the ref was left with no choice but to introduce him to the warmth of the dressing-room well before the remainder of his mates got the chance.

The opposition now down to ten men, you would have thought that would have helped Hereford's cause - but strangely it didn't. The problem? Tamworth were, or should I say their 'in-your-face' way of preventing the visitors from playing. No matter what The Bulls did, the minute the action got anywhere near the Tamworth goalmouth, everything collapsed in a heap. It was beginning to seem as if they'd never score - but six minutes after the break, they did. The strike came when the Tamworth defence failed to deal with a Williams corner, and Mkandawire whacked home the loose ball. A scrambled messy affair, the sort of thing where the ball pings around a six-yard area absolutely sage-and onioned with madly scrambling bodies and it's all down to a matter of luck who gets a good toehold on it first - and in this instance, it was the Bulls that did.

Two-one to the visitors, then - and what with the hosts being part-time, and the visitors full-time pros, on paper, that should have been it. But it wasn't. That strike must have stirred something lurking deeply and nastily within the Tamworth psyche, and yellow shirted bodies began to fly in all directions. Suddenly, the ref found himself the busiest bloke on the pitch, and his linos the most vigorous flag-wavers in the business. A couple of Tamworth set-pieces, and the ball only narrowly skeetering over the heads of their eager strikeforce should have given the visitors due notice of their immediate danger, but it didn't. Another Tamworth set-piece, this one a free-kick about ten or so yards from the box, an almighty belter from Tamworth player-manager Mark Cooper who fired home past Mawson from all of 30-yards, and suddenly, the pegging was level once more.

Most certainly NOT what the vet ordered for the Bulls, and to be honest, they did do their utmost to try and snatch one at the death, but yet again, the Tamworth defensive man-trap closed its jaws, and the visitors had to settle for a draw - bad news, apparently, as a fair number of their Conference play-off rivals had managed to fare considerably better elsewhere.

Giggle of the game? One of the Tamworth lads going down injured just in front of us, an outraged and indignant Hereford supporter's bellow from behind, aimed at the poor lino, about the fact the wounded warrior was off the pitch when the incident occurred, and he'd managed to roll himself on again, thereby holding things up a tadge. The flag-waver appeared to have seen this also, because he told the injured party to shift the couple of inches necessary to get the game going once more. Bellowed the sarcastic fan from the back: "Good, lino - can I have your autograph?" The lino's immediate response to that aural barrage? (I did say the incident only occurred a matter of a few feet from where we were sitting, remember!) "Who? ME?"

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