Bournemouthl 1 - Millwall 0 (Back to Report Lists) Well, the wheels fell off down on the south coast amid a day of glorious sunshine but piss poor football. The lads never got going and as frustrating as it may seem, it is no use getting the hike and bemoaning the fact that we have suffered a narrow defeat at the hands of relegation fodder. Bournemouth is usually a happy hunting ground for Millwall, I mean, it has everything you want for a footballing town, for instance, did you know that it has more pubs and clubs per square mile than Soho? See? Paradise indeed. Mind you, perhaps the performance of our players suggests that they visited every fucking one of them on Friday night. Well, when I say all the players, I meant some of the players. But when I say some of the players, I really meant a couple of players. Well when I say a couple, I suppose I really mean just one. Step forward Alan Dunne. You are to football what laryngitis is to Linda Lovelace. I was with my old mucker Ritchie Blackmore who, when realising that oor wullie had once again put Dunne in the starting line up, belted out his old anthem in the wee Scotsman’s direction, “since you picked Dunne, since you picked Dunne, I’m outta my head, can’t take it” To continue in the same vein as the former Rainbow front man, well could I be wrong, but since he’s picked Dunne, we’ve slowly slipped back into crap mode. It is no coincidence, is it, that we are unbalanced and lethargic with Dunne in the team. Wullie, I know you read these reports and you do take advice so please drop Dunne and lets get back to winning ways. In fact, the lad who had the blow up doll in amongst the Millwall fans should have dressed ‘her’ up in a Millwall kit and sent ‘her’ on in Dunne’s place. At least ‘she’ would have been a bit more entertaining. Pidgers in goal, Dunne replacing the injured Danny Senda (get well soon, seriously) Shaw, Robbo and Craig in defence, Brammer, Brighton, Elliott and Hackett made up the midfield with baby Boy and Bomber on duty as the front two, it didn’t seem too bad to start with but it quickly became apparent that the Cherries were desperate for the win and we, simply, couldn’t give a fuck, even with about 2,000 travelling fans spurring them on, the Lions performed like pussycats. We failed to string any meaningful passes together, Hackett was way off with his crosses, Brammer, I am sorry to report, was given a midfield lesson by sick note Anderton, and never got into his stride at all. Harris and Byfield did their usual running but without the proper service they may as well have been running a bath. Bournemouth were quick to realise that we were not up for it and the pressure began to build. It was no surprise at all when on around the twenty-minute mark, disaster struck. An innocuous throw in, right in front of us, on the left hand side of the pitch, saw the ball loop into our goalmouth and for all intents and purposes, looked like it was going out for a goal kick when McGoldrick managed to head it back across the box. Now can someone please, for the love of whatever God you pray to, get it through to ‘punchy’ Pidgers that he is allowed to fucking catch the football? This buffoon does his best to punch anything and everything but he has no ability to do it properly. LENNY, YOU CAN’T PUNCH YOUR WAY OUT OF A WET PAPER BAG, YOU DOPEY BASTARD. Is he coached to punch the ball? Does he think he is good at it? Well take it from me, he aint no fuckin’ good at it in any shape or form. This time he managed to punch (punch? More like bitch slap) the ball straight to the one bloke on the field who didn’t need to be set up for a volley. Sick note. He wasted no time or effort in dispatching it accordingly, straight into the net. 1-0. If you were there, trust me, you knew, deep down, that that was game over at that point. Sure we huffed and puffed, Brighton did come close with a shot, Byfield caused a few ruffled feathers, but deep down, that was it. The rest of the first half saw precious little activity at all. Half time arrived and lets see who, from MISA, managed to single me and MrsB out….not many out of nearly 2,000 fans…a bit disappointing but I am sure lots of you were there and just couldn’t see me…..Hmmmmm….anyhow, CharlieMFC made the effort, as did Dartford, Elephantman and Simba. The ubiquitous Herman Boring was there, of course and I think that was it? I must give a quick mention to another Charlie who I was with who lurks on MISA but has yet to join up. Come on Charles, jump in, we don’t bite! There’s room for more than one Charlie and we need a counter balance for CharlieMFC who should change his name by deed poll to Jonah…. Second forty five and it was pretty much as you were. Tom Brighton was replaced by Pubertz from the start of the half but this time superpube failed to deliver. Dunne continued to show that he has the footballing skills of Prince Randian (look him up on google) and clearly thought that because it was St Patrick’s Day he could get away with doing fuck all work, acting like a imbecile, picking fights with all and sundry and generally behaving like most of his compatriots do on this auspicious occasion for Irish folk everywhere. Did we manage one single shot on target? No we did not. In fact, Moss in the Cherries goal could have popped along to see Mary Shelley’s tomb at St Peter’s in the town centre and still not conceded a goal. He could have popped along to one of the seaside shops and bought a postcard and sent it wherever to add to the other 60 million that have been sent from this Dorset haven and still he would have kept a clean sheet. The only chance I can recall was a shot by Elliott that cannoned off of Baby Boy’s arse and looped over Moss and unfortunately, over the cross bar as well. It is also disappointing to report that Chris Hackett went on the missing list for the second half. He just did not get involved at all and at one stage I even forgot he was on the field. He has electrifying pace, a wicked cross and the ability to chase down defenders but he just didn’t do anything at all. Maybe oor wullie does know something we don’t? With five minutes left it should have been 2-0 to Bournemouth as McGoldrick raced through clean on goal. Robbo gave chase and it has to be noted, made a near perfect tackle, robbing the Cherries frontman of a certain goal. Time ticked away and Bournemouth basically did a number on us and closed the game up completely. Referee Olivier did us all a favour and blew up for full time. The travelling hordes did not really give the lads too much stick because I think the players knew they had played a collective stinker. At least the spectre of making the play offs has been laid to rest, hasn’t it? Do any of you lot still think it is a viable proposition? I don’t, and to tell you the truth, I never did. I have got a holiday booked for the week when the play offs take place and I am confident I can jet off without fear of missing any Millwall matches. Port Vale are next up and only the very loyal or very stupid will be in attendance for this one. If you are going, please feel free to choose which category you fall into! This stupid fucker will see you there….