Oh Jay Simpson

By: Martyn | September 21st, 2009

Flavio Briatore, Head Something-or-Other at QPR has had a naff week. Perhaps the toothpaste-haired archetypal Bond villain can use the vacancies his freshly tippex’d diary now presents him with to do a bit of cardiovascular work: he isn’t in particularly good shape despite the bevy of beauties frequently flanking him suggesting otherwise. Nevertheless, if Jim Magilton had quite randomly hit upon the idea of cloning the rotund Verzuolesi 10 times, putting 11 versions of the man who looks like Liam Gallagher would’ve had he spent the years snorting lard rather than coke on the pitch for the R’s against City would still have resulted in an away victory.

The Bluebirds so willingly let the red-and-black-striped visitors (hence the accompanying caption picture; we were a physical manifestation of Walter the Softy in our blue) wreak havoc that many are referring to the game as City’s worst ever under Dave Jones. I used to pay as a child to watch someone in the red and black stripes do his best to torture, tease and somehow fail to earn an ASBO. Unfortunately, unlike the adventures of Dennis the Menace in The Beano, there was no complementary Drumstick Lolly or pack of parma violets bundled in to accompany the ensuing visual riot against beleagured townsfolk (or in this case, Solomon Taiwo). We were so abject, I feel that I could quite justifiably post the capitalised word ‘HIT’ (complete with an intruding ‘S’ near the front) and comfortably get away with adequately describe things from the Cardiff City perspective. Likewise, we were so abject, I’d quite happily continue rambling on about The Beano and how for example no wonder we’re in a flamin’ recession when the mag costs £1.25 these days, or that Bash Street School could have solved several of their problems by hiring a Truancy Warden, a Life Coach and a Bullying-Prevention Officer respectively. Poor old ~~Peter Crouch~~ Plug. However, for those of you wanting to read why exactly City were so bad I’ll make an effort to relay and assess the sheer ineptitude; the objective match reports on the likes of BBC Football never quite compare to the subjective and biased musings of the nostalgically digressing follower!

FORMATIONS
I had anticipated that the QP Rangers coach Jim Magilton would adopt a 4-4-1-1 approach with a front-line foursome more suited to a Queens Park Mangers moniker. However the Belfastian with an accent rougher than the materials used in the city’s Harland and Wolff shipyard made several emendations to what I forecast, including lining up in a 4-4-2. Rowan Vine partnered Jay Simpson up top, Akos Buzsaky took the place of Hogan Ephraim at LM, Kaspars Gorkss buddied up with Damien Stewart in the back and Martin Rowlands added more bite to the centre of midfield than perhaps the classier Alejandro Faurlin would have done. The only formational change Magilton made during the course of the game was replacing Vine with Alessandro Pellicori late on, the campianato cadetto club collector playing more of an AMC/SS role to give things a late 4-5-1/4-4-1-1 holding-the-game (pfft) gloss.

Meanwhile, the evolved form of Riverside AFC retained the same 4-4-2/4-3-3 in attack system as ever. Changes on the personnel front included Solomon Taiwo making his first start in place of the suspended McPhail and the overlooked Rae, and world famous no. 14 ~~Thierry Henry~~ Paul Quinn strapping his size 9’s on after Adam Matthews was forced off in the week. It’s hard to say that any side or manager won the Battle of the Systems because Cardiff were so lacklustre, lazy and lulling that our opponents could have played a 0-0-10 and we still wouldn’t have bothered to exploit the space at the back. Nevertheless, our 4-4-2 saw a bit of personnel rotation (pre and) mid-match and never had a settled feel as a result. Taiwo was positionally dreadful, and his presence certainly affected those around him in terms of them being unsure of where needed filling. Likewise, we finished the game with an entirely new central midfield (Ledley/Taiwo became Rae/Scimeca), whilst Whittingham, Ledley and Chopra all took turns out in the left midfield role. Josh Magennis ended the game as a target man but the rookie was thrown on and given a task akin to trying to resuscitate an ant with human-sized defibrillator paddles. Versatile though our players may be in Jones’s formation, the fluidity of this shifting didn’t help settle us down and plug the gaping hole we left in front of the defence.

TACTICS
QPR brought with them just about enough fans to fill one log on the fairground’s flume. There was nothing particularly life-changing or virtuosic about the manner in which the Dom Joly-deprived Parkies secured victory, so the scores of Wez’ Lan-dan-errs who chose to stay at home and play with their model tube trains, watch Only Fools and Horses and eat pie n’ mash (or whatever big English city folk do on their day off) probably didn’t miss the pivotal turning point in Jim Magilton’s so-far uninspiring managerial career. There wasn’t a wealth of character to the R’s showing, but it had a few recurring themes. With Martin Rowlands acting as ball-winner (a job he did superbly), the R’s set about getting the ball to Vine, Routledge or Simpson as quickly as they could. The front 6 were calm in possession and although the full-backs weren’t focal to their game plan, both Leigertwood and Borrowdale got forward on occasion. Routledge was willing to run at us as often as possible (and had more success doing so when he drifted infield and ran diagonally from the right side rather than from his position on the left), while Simpson and Vine looked to strike up some form of accord with neat little give-and-go’s. It was the former pair of the attacking trio that grabbed an assist apiece for Simpson’s brace, and Vine and Routledge both came within inches of adding to the visitors tally; all can be pleased with their afternoon’s work. Buzsaky wasn’t involved as much as he or his manager may have liked, but his late right-footed curling FK whistled past the post. The QPR backline didn’t look comfortable when the ball was played in and around them on the turf, but in the air they unsurprisingly dominated: I can’t recall Gorkss being beaten all afternoon. They marshalled our set-pieces superbly too and seemed to understand what was required of them in most aspects of Magilton’s tactics. Rangers ended the game by holding onto the ball and passing it back to Cerny as often as possible, in spite of the Czech goalie not being a great kicker of the ball.

City grabbing a goal on Saturday looked about as likely as Ken Loach ever going round Robert Kilroy Silk’s for dinner. We tried long balls from the centre-backs which funnily enough were dealt with comfortably. We tried passing it about on the deck, but in the case of both Scimeca and Taiwo, the neat two-yard passes weren’t supplemented by penetrating ones that split our opponents. We tried passing it about with width and patience in order to draw the visitors out, yet this only happened during passages of play when quick carrying would have sufficed in order to get a breakthrough. Too often, there were so many needless passes in the midfield, thus allowing QPR to regain and keep their shape, or Rowlands to snatch the ball from our clutches. So yes ultimately, everything we tried was useless because we barely even tried with our trying. And that was when we were trying to try and try. Half the time the players strolled about doing sod all. Some of them didn’t even stroll. Why take the stairs when the escalator’s nearby after all? Not only did the midfield fail to create anything (not that the strikers were looking for it), but they failed to fulfil the other part of their roles: adequately protecting the defence. Watch as Joe Ledley and Taiwo amble back as Routledge saunters through with a hint of embarrassment onto a clueless defence to assist the second goal. Burke tried to inject some spark into the game and he managed to weave his way through twice or thrice but his shooting was hopeless. As was that of several of his colleagues, Gavin Rae spectacularly blazing over late on being the culmination of a dreadful display of tickling Cerny’s tummy/aiming for the sun. Josh Magennis – the only recipient of praise from the manager – hustled and harried, but the lack of quality was plain to see when the youngster squandered our best opening by wildly booting the air after closing his eyes as a slow ball dropped perfectly for him to volley home. I don’t care how young you are, such profligacy is pathetic.

So were we tired after a fair few games in recent weeks? Was it simply a case of the rest QPR were afforded with a midweek postponement allowing them to achieve the aim of winning every second ball? Or were too many players minds on the forthcoming (Wednesday) trip to Aston Villa? Peter Whittingham and Joe Ledley (I plan a post on Mr Ledley later this week, so stay tuned) were absolutely shocking, but both have come out post-QPR debacle to verbally quiver with excitement at the prospect of playing the Birmingham-based outfit. After the shockers both players had at the weekend during the Championship’s eighth round, here’s hoping Dave Jones goes all Felix Magath and excludes them from his squad for the trip. It’s fair to say that such a call would be ample punishment.