Reading got the job done in another early kick-off at the SCL, and Ben was there to take the game in.
I’m actually getting used to these 12.30 kick-offs, despite what I said in a previous column. There’s a logic to it I guess which means football is done and dusted by mid-afternoon, but the problem I have is this: what do I do when I get home?
Do I have time to do all the jobs marked as “weekend”, like thinking about cutting the grass, or cleaning (yes I do clean thank you) or imagining myself painting something? Or is it a question of “you’ve had one beer so have another four before bedtime?” It’s tricky, but I have come to peace with these early start times at the Stade de SCL.
I deeply enjoyed my pre-match scran before the game. Short story: my son had forgotten his season ticket (KIDS EH?!) so I had to get a reprint. He and my dad then went off to the hotel and, when I eventually got round there, they were sat enjoying elite breakfast/brunch items.
Of course, being a mature dad of two who is very grounded in life, I did not react, strop or make comments about it all and, in the end, my dad went to buy me my own one. And what a breakfast item! It was so tasty I didn’t even need ketchup! Three sausages placed in a little toasted floured bap, with the juices from the meat items soaking through to the bread to make what was essentially “natural” butter. A really good piece of scran.
We arrived at the seated bowl after kick-off (only about two mins after 12.30) and I was nearly knocked over by the force of the sun. I cannot remember any game sitting in the Dolan when the sun was directly on my face and body for most of the game and you could see people around stripping off quickly to cool their bodies down. October? More like bloody July mate!
As I looked around the stand, I noticed Hal Robson-Kanu in the padded red seats to the right of me. I always wonder whenever his name crops up how Reading fans view him and his legacy at the club. For me, there was an inconsistency there which made his time tricky to evaluate, but somewhere inside there was a player who could have reached the heights of mid-table Premier League for sure.
I was stopped in my tracks with these thoughts as David Button was doing his best to activate the heart rates of everyone wearing blue in the stadium. Again, he’s in a difficult zone with the fanbase where everything he does is analysed and discussed, but the back-pass from Tyler Bindon which nearly resulted in an own-goal will stay with me for a bit.
Despite Button’s many saves and good stuff during the game, some of which you could rightly argue kept us in the game, you can’t overlook those little basic errors that could (and have) cost us.
Crawley Town were, for a team in the trenches, pretty relentless. They were like that big pink chap with spots on him that appeared on Noel Edmond’s popular show “here’s my massive house in the country” when, every time he tried to shut his wooden door, this giant blobby thing would come in and smash his mansion up. They were good and could certainly move the ball well in transitions and up the pitch.
The goals selection from the game was an outrage, a genuine outrage. The positioning of the players to hit those shots alone was a luxury, let alone the actual finishes. Lewis Wing’s goal alone was a sublime belter that ticked all the boxes for a decent goal. Charlie Savage’s goal was from a player who can and will take those chances when no one else will, and the build-up (mainly the pass) for the fourth goal - from Sam Smith - was a delight.
Winning 4-1 when you haven’t really looked like winning 4-1 is a really great thing to do. The home form is flames currently and, if it continues, that alone would put us roughly mid-table come May.
Like the early kick-offs, I’ve come to terms with the fact we aren’t the best team in the league (I know, it’s hard to accept), but also that we can make it work when we need to, especially at home. And given where we have been and where we are, I’m more than OK with that.
Until next time.
