A win is a win is a win

What you gain on the swings, you lose on the roundabouts.

I couldn't help thinking how aggrieved I'd felt that we'd got nothing at Stamford Bridge in our second match of season. That Kevin Friend had helped Chelsea to three points and they could so easily have been ours. Because yesterday, the balance of the universe was restored as we mugged Manchester City of three points, ably assisted by the lino and shampoo salesman Joe Hart.

The positivity that has been emanating from the Villa faithful as a result of the unlikely victory is undoubtedly a good thing, but some of you seem to have watched the game through claret and blue tinted spectacles. For vast periods of the game Manchester City played truly wonderful football. For vast periods of the first half, Villa were abject.

Indeed we never truly got our attacking play going in the way we had against Arsenal, Chelsea or even the second half against Liverpool. The Liverpool match, which disappointed most was actually a more coherent performance, but it didn't glean any goals and if your slick build up play doesn't produce the required results, large swathes of the crowd are never going to love you.

After the cup game against Spurs, in which a disjointed ragbag of Villa players had failed to show anything like cohesion, I was expecting far better as a more recognisable line up took to the pitch, even given the quality of the opposition, but in that desperate first half, we just couldn't get going. Weimann and Kozak found it impossible to hold the ball up, leading to wave upon wave of Man City attacks. The pluses for us were that there was no Aguero to take advantage of our opponents massive possessional advantage and that James Milner now looks a shadow of the player that had bloomed in his final season at Villa Park. Nasri was a constant problem, although his short temper makes him his own worst enemy.

Thankfully, Lambert's decision to go with three centre halves solved the problem of our full backs being caught dangerously out of position and while our defending may have lacked technical quality, it was full of energy and determination, meaning that our illustrious visitors were finding it nigh on impossible to fashion chances from their dominance in open play. What they were able to do though is win an awful lot of corners, and from these, they always looked dangerous.

We could debate for hours the benefits of zonal versus man-to-man marking, but whichever system you plump for, you need to make sure that your team is capable of playing it. We are still worryingly unsecure at set plays.

Yaya Toure, the intimidating architect of many of their best moves, finally managed a goal that for a long time had seemed inevitable. Half-time, I thought, would be brief respite. It turned out to be a turning point.

Your reaction to the El Ahmadi equaliser was different depending on whether you've actually played football or not. Those who can't remember when the last time was they pulled on a pair of boots went into instant celebration. The rest looked straight at the linesman to check their hadn't been a flag, because they were certainly expecting one. Like I said though, swings and roundabouts. On other days, an offside would definitely have been given, but with the  number of dodgy decisions that go against us, we're surely entitled to the rub of the green occasionally.

Being level at this stage was a definite bonus and if only we could hold the line, we might get an unlikely point. If only we could hold the ball and stop giving set pieces away. We couldn't. Another dangerous Nasri corner wasn't dealt with and Dzeko met with little resistance as he headed home.

Dead and buried? We would have been last season. If anything, going behind again proved to be the catalyst that stirred Villa in a more meaningful passage of forward play. Suddenly, Pellegrini's expensive charges seemed jittery, and as Villa advanced up the pitch, tackles became more reckless and ill-thought out.

Then the moment of magic. A free kick outside the area. Ron Vlaar looked as if he was lining up but Bacuna was lurking ominously. In came the kick, a thunderbolt, perfectly placed. Even if Joe Hart hadn't made life difficult for himself with his positioning and hadn't stayed rooted to the spot, he might not have got near it. It was a glorious moment for the young Dutchman, who some fickle Villa fans had instantly written off after his shaky start against Liverpool. They are easy to spot, these trolls, the same ones who also think Tonev is a waste of space.

Not that it's their fault, it's hot-wired into a Villa fan's DNA to be hyper-critical of our own players. People round me used to catcall Gary Shaw and Tony Morley for not doing enough while we were in the process of winning the league. Some people just like being miserable sods.

After all the hot air about Villa being a long ball team, the style of the winner was delicious. It couldn't have been more route one if it had been scored by Graham Taylor's Watford in the 80s. What you have to admire is Brad Guzan's vision. Manchester City's defence had a Chuckle Brothers moment, Kozak's flick on was sublime and Andreas Weimann was the epitome of cool as he calmly went past the charging Joe Hart and rolled the ball casually goal-wards. Slightly too casually for my nervous ticker, but hey it eventually rolled over the line.

They say time moves quicker as you get older. That last twenty minutes didn't go quickly. Not at all. Manchester City wanted it, we didn't want to let it go and scarily Yaya Toure looked as good in the game's last knockings as he did in the pomp of City's first half dominance.

The final whistle. Three points against the favourites for the league title – and I'd maintain, justified favourites on this showing – but most importantly for us, a taste for our players of how sweet Villa Park can be when we graft out a win.

So yes, it wasn't pretty. Yes, we were completely outplayed for long periods of the game. Doesn't matter. Without, you could argue, four of our key players, we've beaten a quality team. 

Let's build on it. 

Let's give Potatohead a torrid time, use the international break to recharge the batteries and then show Spurs that this time, we won't get caught with our pants down.

Aston Villa? Cup Winners in 1985? Wednesfield Social?

In the last "Dek's Rant" I wrote about the Bradford Fire in 1985 and the subsequent charity game featuring the late, great George Best.

Now, as you'll appreciate, that game took place over twenty eight years ago, so although the bulk of the piece came from memory, with such a long gap, I thought it well worth trawling my archives to check out the facts.

Dragging out the mid-eighties stuff, I came across two pieces of A4 paper that were in fact, the official programme of the 100th Birmingham County FA Senior Cup Final, a game which I attended.

This game was treated very much in the same way as a Central League Match and Bill Shorthouse's charges didn't play that well on the night, but did enough to claim the cup, so this is a perhaps forgotten piece of Villa achievement.

Though Dean Glover was reserve team captain, Dennis Mortimer - making one of his last ever appearances in a Villa shirt - was allowed to pick up the trophy.

Like the George Best match which would follow just a few days later, there seemed to be little to no information about this small piece of Aston Villa history on the web, so I've scanned in some pics, wrestled the villamad.co.uk Twitter account off the news minions and shone a light on it.

The trophy is actually very nice, far nicer than that thing the size of a coffee mug that they handed to Paul Merson when we "won the Intertoto"...but that's another story....

Those tweets are here. Enjoy.

Blast from the Past: "Programme" from the 1985 Birmingham Senior Cup Final. Charged 15p for 2 sheets of A4 #avfc pic.twitter.com/1FaokCzPjA
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

Blast from the Past: Teams from the 1985 Birmingham Senior Cup Final: #avfc pic.twitter.com/MzRaTTl82C
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

Blast from the Past: Dennis Mortimer accepts the 1985 Birmingham Senior Cup as #avfcbeat Wednesfield Social 3-1 pic.twitter.com/81JdTwpC6A
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

Blast from the Past: The Villa team celebrate winning the 100th Birmingham Senior Cup in 1985 #avfc pic.twitter.com/duDBzsfGN0
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

Although Bernie Gallacher was listed in the programme for the Senior Cup win, a Brian Little shot in a 5-a-side broke his wrist...
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

...and Matthew Hellin played instead...
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

For the record, Villa ran out 3-1 winners, Dean Glover, Ray Walker & Dennis Mortimer getting our goals. Dave Morrison scored for Wednesfield
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

Despite missing the final, Bernie -who had played in every other round - was still awarded a medal
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

It was the 19th time that Villa had won the Birmingham Senior Cup...
— villamad.co.uk (@villamadtweets) September 27, 2013

George Best: He played for Villa you know...I know, I was there

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

In 1985, the sport of football was not what you could call in good shape. A combination of escalating terrace violence, economic malaise, and frankly, poor quality football played in decaying stadiums had left the national game in deep trouble. Attendance figures were dropping through the floor.

May 1985 would see the situation get even worse but in the true spirit of the phrase “every cloud has a silver lining” tragic events in Yorkshire would lead to a true one-off.

George Best would play football for Aston Villa.

As Villa's 1984-85 season petered out into mid-table mediocrity, there was little to shout about. We'd lost our last home league game of the season to Luton Town by a single goal and were playing away at a Liverpool with one eye on The European Cup Final on the last Saturday of the league season. Not being that bothered about the game and with Dennis Mortimer's Testimonial looming on the Tuesday, I'd decided not to go.

Saturday afternoon would be spent glued to the radio.

11th May 1985

We didn't have Jeff Stelling back in those days, so I was taking part in the tradition of the time, switching between George Gavin on BRMB and whoever was in charge of the goals klaxon on Radio WM (probably Tim Russon) and tellingly on this day, Sport on 2 because they always mentioned Villa a lot more if were playing the red half of Merseyside. The telly was switched to the Oracle teletext service to keep up with the latest scores.

Fire halts the Bradford-Lincoln game

Towards the end of first half, a Radio 2 reporter announced that there appeared to be smoke and a few flames coming from the stand at Bradford and the game against Lincoln had been halted. It was fairly unusual for the BBC to mention Bradford at all, so it must, I reasoned, be a significant happening. As it was just before the interval I was, as a matter of course, turning off the teletext to catch the half time reports on the BBC's Grandstand and ITV's World of Sport. Yorkshire TV's cameras were at Valley Parade and World of Sport quickly abandoned their half time reports sequence to show the unfolding scene.

There only seemed to be a few flames at first, but just as commentator John Helm said that it looked serious, the small fire became a major conflagration. As fans began streaming onto the pitch, the roof caught a blaze. In less time than it takes to make a soft boiled egg, the whole of the roof was ablaze, raining fiery debris down on those making their escape. Helm put into the words the terrible thoughts of those us around the country witnessing agape as the tragedy unfolded and people began to emerge from the stand, some white with burns and even, in some cases, still on fire.

Valley Parade - the whole stand went up in minutes

The speed and fury with which the fire claimed the stand and with it the lives of dozens who had just gone out to cheer on their football team was truly frightening. Bradford had just gained promotion and this was supposed to be a day of celebration. The joy had turned to abject horror in little more than the blink of an eye.

For us football fans, used to standing or sitting in many ramshackle stands no better or safer than the one whose destruction we were gaping at, there was a real feeling of “there but for the grace of god go I”. 

It really hit home.

It was devastating. Horrible. Gruesome. Tragic. And one more word. Avoidable.

Yes avoidable and anyone who knew anything about how football was being run and fans were being treated knew it only too well. If we'd been cattle the RSPCA would never have stood for it.

Villa lost 2-1 at Anfield that day but I'd never been less interested in how my team had got on in my life.

As the extent of the afternoon's events began to become clear, the football family was dealt another kick in the teeth. A twelve foot wall had collapsed during severe crowd trouble between Birmingham City and Leeds United and a 15 year old boy had died as a consequence.

It's probably difficult for those who weren't around at the time to understand just how dire things had become for the game but it really felt at the time as if football was dying too. The events of that horrible day felt like nails in the coffin.

This was of course the era of Band Aid and so the reflex response of a shocked public to the fire was to start fund raising. Gerry Marsden would resurrect his hit “You'll Never Walk Alone”. The football world responded with benefit matches, but it seemed such a game featuring Villa would be unlikely.

With Villa Park booked for Dennis's game in midweek and with many potential opponents still having League fixtures to fulfil, it seemed we wouldn't be getting a game at all. The Express and Star had other ideas and it seems to have been their drive that got the game to happen. Saturday was a no-no as this was FA Cup Final day and the cup was treated with the utmost respect in those days. It was still the jewel in the crown of the football calendar. 

14th May 1985

The Mortimer testimonial took place on the Tuesday. Many of us were of the opinion that these sort of friendlies were all rigged and a high-scoring draw was on the cards. Wrong!

With so many England regulars playing for their clubs that week though, the England XI of fringe players must have seen it as an opportunity and took the game seriously and we got thumped 4-1, Peter Withe getting ours and our very own Paul Rideout scoring against us! Garry “Bruno” Thompson found the net twice with Sunderland's Nick Pickering getting the other one. A crowd of 5,451 turned up to see it and word started to get round that we were playing a game for the Bradford fire fund after all, against West Bromwich Albion and that one George Best was going to turn out for us.

"Yeah. Right" was the reaction of many of us.

At this stage of his life, George had managed to pick up a reputation for being less than reliable and for being three sheets to the wind on TV chat shows so most of us took George's potential involvement with a pinch of salt. Mister Dependable he wasn't.

17th May 1985

The attendance at the Mortimer match probably influenced the decision not to open the Holte End and so it was that on Friday 17th May 1985, most of us in the crowd of 5,663 were packed into Trinity Road Stand. Despite its beautiful brick façade, much of the Trinity's structure was wooden, an irony that wasn't lost on us on the night.

So hastily had the game been organised that there had been no time to print a proper programme so a four page newspaper type document from the Express and Star provided the pre-match reading material. Players who weren't taking part in the game were mingling around the refreshments stands and I clearly remember really struggling to decipher Tony Morley's thick accent. By this point, Tony was plying his trade for the opposition.

Then came the team news: Kevin Poole in goal, full backs Gary Williams and Tony Dorigo, Evans and Ormsby at the heart of defence, Ray Walker, Stevie McMahon and Sid in midfield, Peter Withe alongside Paul Rideout up front and in the number eleven shirt...oh yes! George Best!

Yep!

George in a Villa shirt!

Nicky Cross dazzled by George's brilliance

Legend has it that the only stipulation George made was that Villa provide the footwear. Incredibly, one of the most skilful players ever to grace the planet no longer owned a pair of football boots!

It is absolutely true to say that George wasn't in prime physical fitness, being just shy of his 39th birthday at the time, but all the skill was there and his every touch was greeted with yelps of delight from the assembled Trinity Road throng. The first half may have been goalless, but it was joy to watch the ball control, brilliance and cheeky back heel passes of a true maestro at work.

He made Albion's awestruck players look ordinary, which probably didn't do much for their self esteem.

I was certainly awestruck, so much so that I couldn't find it in my heart to sing the old classic "Georgie Best. Superstar. Looks like a woman and he wears a bra." Mind you, the emerging middle-aged spread and the full beard made the song somewhat redundant anyway.

Tony Godden keeps Peter Withe at bay

In the second half, we even got some goals to cheer. Paul Rideout combined well with Steve McMahon who put Villa one up as a consequence before a corner from Mister Georgie Best himself found Allan Evans and we were coasting.

Or at least I thought we were.

Albion stormed back into it, Steve Mackenzie scoring a penalty before Tony Grealish levelled it. Garry Thompson continued his week of being a thorn in Villa's side by putting the Baggies ahead.

George managed an hour in a Villa shirt and what a wonderful hour it was, but it was the player who came on for him, Didier Six, that netted Villa's equaliser. The game finished 3-3. We'd got the high scoring draw we'd expected on the Tuesday.

Didier Six fires home Villa's equaliser

It was a true honour to witness a player of George's calibre wearing a Villa shirt and the night would also prove to be the last chance of seeing Peter Withe, Paul Rideout and Didier Six in their Villa colours.

The local press reckoned we raised about £10,000 for the disaster fund on the night.

It was a special night, one to treasure, but we should never forget the reason we were there... and if football people thought things couldn't any worse, the Heysel Stadium disaster was less than two weeks away.

56 people died in the fire at Valley Parade:

ACKROYD, John Douglas 32 Baildon
ANDERTON, Edmund 68 Bingley
BAINES, Alexander Shaw 70 Bradford
BAMFORD, Herbert 72 Bradford
BULMER, Christopher James 11 Burley-in-Wharfedale
COXON, Jack Leo 76 Bradford
COXON, Leo Anthony 44 Halifax
CRABTREE, David James 30 Bradford
CRABTREE, Harry 76 Bradford
DEMPSEY, Derek 46 Morley
FIRTH, Muriel 56 Baildon
FIRTH, Samuel 86 Bradford
FLETCHER, Andrew 11 East Bridgford, Nottinghamshire
FLETCHER, Edmond 63 Pudsey
FLETCHER, John 34 East Bridgford, Nottingham
FLETCHER, Peter 32 Gildersome
FORSTER, Nellie 64 Bradford
GREENWOOD, Felix Winspear 13 Denholme
GREENWOOD, Peter 46 Denholme
GREENWOOD, Rupert Benedict 11 Denholme
HALL, Norman 71 Bradford
HALLIDAY, Peter Anthony 34 Bradford
HARTLEY, Arthur 79 Bradford
HINDLE, Edith 79 Bradford
HINDLE, Frederick 76 Bradford
HODGSON, Moira Helen 15 Oakenshaw
HUDSON, Eric 72 Bingley
HUGHES, John 64 Bradford
HUTTON, John 74 Bradford
KERR, Walter 76 Bradford
LOVELL, Peter Charles 43 Bradford
LUDLAM, Jack 55 Bradford
McPHERSON, Gordon Stuart 39 Bradford
McPHERSON, Irene 28 Bradford
MASON, Roy 74 Silsden
MIDDLETON, Frederick Norman 84 Bradford
MITCHELL, Harold 79 Bradford
MUHL, Elizabeth 21 Leeds
NORMINGTON, Ernest 74 Shipley
ORMONDROYD, Gerald Priestley 40 Bingley
ORMONDROYD, Richard John 12 Bingley
ORMONDROYD, Robert Ian 12 Bingley
POLLARD, Sylvia Lund 69 Bradford
PRICE, Herbert 78 Shipley
ROBERTS, Amanda Jayne 20 Bradford
SAMPSON, Jane 18 Leeds
STACEY, William 72 Sleaford, Lincolnshire
STOCKMAN, Craig Albert 14 Bradford
STOCKMAN, Jane Ashley 16 Bradford
STOCKMAN, Trevor John 38 Brighouse
TURNER, Howard Malcolm 41 Bingley
TURNER, Sarah Elizabeth 16 Bingley
WARD, Simon Neil 18 Shipley
WEDGEWORTH, Robert 72 Guiseley
WEST, William James 78 North Hykeham, Lincoln
WRIGHT, Adrian Mark 11 Bradford.

Tales of the Unexpected

It's a bit of a short rant this time because I don't want to keep going over the same ground.

But..

I'm not sure what surprised me most on Saturday. Was it Britain's World Heavyweight hopeful David Price lying in a crumpled heap while serial loser Audley Harrison was launching yet another comeback? Or was it the stunning realisation that the Arsenal game had left me happier with Joe Bennett's performance than the one that Christian Benteke had seen fit to put in?

Can't say I was expecting either event, but having spent much of the week in startled disbelief at the way the South African legal system works, and with the way their police deal with crime scenes, nothing should surprise me.

I suppose the least said about the Pistorius situation the better at this stage, but if they ever make CSI: Pretoria, they'll surely cast The Chuckle Brothers as the lead detectives.

Back to the Benteke question though. Quite why he didn't put in his usual shift is open the question. Fair play, every player can have an off day, however this particular one came after a week of fevered press speculation over the young Belgian's future and against a team that is rumoured to be his childhood favourite. Maybe I should have seen it coming after all.

That said, even a below par Benteke offers more to the team than Darren Bent would have done, had he been fit. He's crocked yet again though, rapidly becoming the modern day equivalent of Dalian Atkinson.

So why am I praising Joe Bennett? Well I'm not really, but you have to give credit where it's due and he certainly seems to be trying harder, putting a foot in and bearing in mind I'd started the game thinking he'd get a complete roasting, I thought he stood up rather well. Indeed, the defensive efforts of our youthful back four even brought praise from John Motson's commentary on Match of The Day. Motty was in admiration of our “stout defending”. Usually when someone mentions stout in connection with our defenders, it's because Dunne's been at the Guinness again.

Arsenal are no great shakes at the moment though. In our situation, plucky displays that garner no points are as much use as a chocolate fire guard. That game was there for the taking yesterday. Yes, Cazorla impressed and Wilshire was good in patches, but The Gunners were tentative at the back and ragged in midfield while Giroud was firing blanks. We should have taken something and we didn't. It was the sort of game that some our fellow relegation strugglers would have taken by the scruff of the neck and wrestled something out of.

And we didn't.

We played some nice stuff going forward again, but we need to start scrapping now too. Fighting tooth and nail for everything.

And we can't.

We don't have the personnel.

When the going got tough, we went into retreat, invited Arsenal on and it cost us big style.

It would be easy too to point the fickle finger of blame at Andi Weimann for losing his man for the Arsenal winner. Except the plucky Austrian had spent fair chunks of the afternoon shredding them down the other end. Plus, in my view, our right back Matt Lowton was getting back with all the urgency of a small child who is being forced to kiss his maiden aunt, the one with the facial hair problem.

So are we doomed? It's going to be a close run thing and I can see the likes of Sunderland getting sucked into the mix but it may actually come down to the last away at Wigan.

And they do know to scrap.

Stop I Don't Love You Anymore

On Texas songstress Sharleen Spiteri's 2008 solo album Melody there's a track I was particularly fond of entitled Stop I Don't Love You Anymore, the title of which pretty much sums up how I'm feeling about Paul Lambert at the moment.

So what has led to this sudden epiphany? What has caused me to stop seeing the man who rode into town to save us from the misery of McLeish through eyes misted by hope and optimism?

Is it our continuing defensive failings? No.

Is it our habit of constantly capitulating from winning positions? No.

Is it our slide to inevitable relegation humiliation because we've been incapable of conjuring a win for a month and half? No.

Is it his inability to strengthen his defensive squad during the window? No.

Is it the fact that he seems to have forgotten how to shave properly? No (but it does seem indicative of a lack of discipline that leads to players slipping out of formation or getting needlessly booked for dissent).

Is it Rosemary, the telephone operator? No

No gentle reader, the straw that broke the camel's back for me was a throwaway comment in the post match presser, when our "leader" was asked inevitable questions about our ability to defend from set plays.

Lambert was quoted as saying 'I am sick of talking about conceding goals from corners'.

Are you Paul?

Are you really?

Well I tell you what sunshine, you're not half as sick of talking about them as we are at having to watch them go in!

You (swear word redacted but it began with “c”)!

Fair play, a lot of us would have taken a draw at the start of the game, but we are not in a position to enjoy that luxury any more. We have to scrap for every single point on offer because with our frightening goal deficit, it could well be that factor that leads to our Premier League demise. We have to scrap and fight from the very first second to the very end of the ninety-sixth minute if that's what it takes.

There were some lovely moments in the match as we counter attacked with aplomb. Matt Lowton seems to have recaptured his joie de vivre, tearing down the right; our Gabby seems to have remembered how to be a striker after a couple of lacklustre seasons under Houllier and McLeish (I suppose we should give Lambo some credit for that); the Beast of B6 struck such fear into the heart of the Everton defence that a clearly traumatised John Heitinga seemed to be a quivering wreck by the time he was withdrawn.

But we know all about quivering wreck defenders don't we?

David Moyes master-stroke was including Anichebe in his front line. Oh, how I wished he'd picked Jelavic. Ciaran Clark was bossed by the big man all afternoon. It would have been a situation that would have been quite easy to rectify. Was there no-one on the pitch to tell Ciaran where he was going wrong? Two words would have been suffice.

“Too tight!”

I was shouting them, if you're astute enough to be reading this blog then you were shouting them, half the pundits in the country were shouting them. Did Ron Vlaar, Villa's captain and Clark's defensive partner shout them? He bloody well should have done! Perhaps he did and Clark thought he was complaining about the size of his jock strap.

I doubt we'll ever find out.

Ciaran's inability to deal with the big man and the constant threat of Fellaini meant that we were on tenterhooks all afternoon. Even with a two goal lead, only the most optimistic Villa fan – or one who hasn't seen us play much this season – would have been confident that we'd close the match out. They don't seem to know how.

When Everton pulled it back to 2-3, the alarm bells should have rung. Keep possession, run it into the opposition corners, make it awkward for the home team and let the clock run down. Simple. Not Lambert's Villa. We seemed intent on bagging a fourth of our own, no matter how reckless the attempt and ignoring the fact that each failure would lead to yet another menacing Everton attack. Ironically, I'd have applauded this cavalier behaviour if we were happily ensconced in mid-table. We're not. We're deep in the sweet and sticky.

Having seen Fellaini's equaliser several times, I wonder if I've been a tad harsh on Ron Vlaar for losing his man. My initial fury that yet another victory had been snatched from our grasp by a late leveller – and from a set piece at that – fogged me to the fact that it had been a bit of deft play from the talented Belgian that enabled him to give Concrete the slip. Credit to the opposition sometimes but it really hurt.

It would have hurt even more if Everton had pulled off a winner and yet again, Villa heads dropped and we looked like rabbits in the headlights as the Toffeemen came a gnat's breath away from nicking all the points.

So where are we now?

Well whatever the deficiencies of Paul Faulkner and Randy Lerner during January, we are where we are. There's nothing an emergency cheque book can do to resolve the situation now. They could get rid of Paul Lambert of course, but anyone coming in would have to work with the same squad of players and admitting they'd got yet another managerial appointment so terribly wrong would be tough to do.

What they could do is bring in someone with a bit more football nous at boardroom level to make these ongoing rickets a bit less likely, pick up some of the slack between the board and the manager and take some of the pressure off a visibly greying Lambert. Not necessarily an ex-footballer but at the very least an administrator steeped in the game. A Steve Stride like figure if you will. Someone like, well, Steve Stride.

Realistically though, Mister Lerner needs to decide whether he really wants to continue with Project Aston Villa. If he does, then he needs a new strategy because the current one doesn't work and is diminishing the value of his investment. If he doesn't, he should be actively seeking a buyer.

As for the on the pitch side of things, even if our trust in Mister Lambert has been tested to the extreme, I think we have to persist in the short term. What even he must see though is that something has to change and the future of his coaching staff must be under review. The problems at the back can't be that hard to fix.

I can sum it up no better than Richard Jolly in The Observer: “Until they can defend a corner, they are unlikely to turn one”.

Critical Condition

Our team will run out at Goodison Park tomorrow to the strains of the Z Cars theme tune. When we run out at Villa Park eight days later, the theme to Casualty may be more appropriate. The patient is critical. Straight to re-suss.

Paul Lambert knew we were short.

Paul Faulkner knew we were short.

Randy Lerner knew we were short.

The transfer window has now closed and guess what? We're still short.

There was no need for panic, but there was definitely a need for action and quick action at that. Put simply, there is now not a snowball's chance in hell that Aston Villa can retain their Premier League status with the defensive staff at Lambert's disposal. Bringing in at least one, but more realistically two experienced Premier League defenders wasn't a “nice to have”. It was a necessity.

That's not to decry the two players that Lambert has brought in. Yacoubu Sylla could well develop into a great Premier League player but that's the key point really. Even if he's the best thing since croissants for breakfast in Ligue 2, he'll need to time to adapt to life in the Premier League and ideally, confident defensive and midfield players around him to help him adapt. We haven't got that time and we haven't got those players. So brittle is our back line at the moment that any mistakes Sylla makes – and with the best will in the world, he's bound to make some – will likely lead to goals against. Some of us will turn on him.

We do that.

Simon Dawkins does look to be an exciting flair player looking to get his career back on track. I've not got a problem with that but Lambert doesn't seem overly keen on playing with width and in any case, I think we already had plenty of flair of going forward. If Dawkins works out he gives another option but I think this is a “nice to have”. I've had a butchers at some of his goals on You Tube and I'm looking forward to seeing him in the claret and blue, but the Earthquakes were a confident high flying, table topping outfit. Poor Simon may find it difficult to display his undoubted talents in a side under the cosh.

There was duty in January for the custodians of Aston Villa Football Club to take appropriate action to safeguard our Premier League future. As for as I can see such action has not been taken.

And now, dear readers, a confession.

I really enjoyed the second half against Newcastle. Okay, the penalty should never have been given and we didn't actually score in open play, but seeing wave upon wave of Villa attacks towards a highly emotional and increasingly noisy Holte End is how I got hooked in the first place.

I'm sick of using the phrase “game of two halves” in these columns but it keeps happening. The reason it happened this time was Lambert's inexplicable first half team selection. In the first half it wasn't a back three supplemented by wing backs, it was a flat back five. Against Newcastle? A team that hadn't won away all season? REALLY?

Barry Bannan in an overrun midfield was particularly bad, but every player goes through a run of bad form and at least he didn't try to hide. Unfortunately, Barry was subjected to negative chanting from a section of our own support. I'd be lying if I said I didn't concur with the sentiment of some of the chanting but I completely fail to see how it could possibly have helped the situation. Somehow, we need to suppress our anger while the game is going on and offer encouragement rather than derision when the ball is in play. If ever there was a need to pull together it's now.

I was also dismayed to see that Darren Bent had been selected. I really like Darren Bent but we need to select our forward line on current form and I'd have picked either Gabby or more preferably Andi Weimann ahead of him. Darren Bent is great in a confident flowing team but a liability in a backs-to-the-wall one. The ball watchers amongst you will have missed this, but have a look next time and see how Andi harries and works defenders when he's off the ball, depleting their energy while Bent just stands there like he's waiting for a taxi.

The second half changes, removing Bent and the risible Joe Bennett were just what the Doctor ordered. Nathan Baker did as good as job any of other players we've tried at left back this season, while the introduction of Gabby's  pace and Weimann's tenacity gave Newcastle all sorts of problems at the back.

Better still though, we had loads of the ball. Had it not been for the two goals we'd conceded in the first half (and to be fair, one of them was a cracker), we'd have had a chance here.

Hang on though. This was Newcastle. A struggling side trying to bed in a load of new signings. A side that never wins away.

And they won.

Away.

Paul Lambert spoke of a standing ovation. We tend to stand up at the end Paul. It's because we're on our way home. I don't blame the players for this one (stop jumping up and down and shouting “but Bannan was shit”) I blame Lambert pure and simple. Not for the first time this season he got his tactics totally wrong and by the time he moved to rectify the situation, it was too late.

The frustrating thing is that I can still see what he's trying to do and when he gets our offensive play right, it's still a joy to watch.

The bottom line is that his defence just isn't good enough.

Not good enough for Aston Villa.

Not good enough for the Premier League.

Paul Lambert's double failure to fix it either on the training pitch or in the transfer market will no doubt be his B6 epitaph because frankly, this state of affairs shows that he's not good enough for Aston Villa either.

Please prove me wrong Mister Lambert.

For all our sakes.

Ignominy

Three games in seven days that would shape our season. We always knew it would be a big ask for it all to come out okay. As it turns out, pretty much none of it did.

Just like the Albion game, the Bradford showdown turned out to be a game of two halves, with Villa in rampant attacking mood in the first half. It's a really pity that we couldn't have converted this into more goals, because things could have been so different if we had. The problem was that all heart left our side once Bradford scored. The lack of leadership on the pitch is reaching crisis point and anyone who thought that Ron Vlaar was going to be the talisman to take us out of the mire got a swift reality check.

The ignominy of being knocked out by a League Two team when Wembley was in touching distance was hard to take, but at least we'd had two weeks to get used to the idea. The tepid, uncreative (aside from N'Zogbia) and defensively inept excuse for a performance against Millwall was the real slap in the face.

You don't have to be a skilled tactician with all your UEFA coaching badges to work out how to beat Paul Lambert's Aston Villa. Schoolboys have sussed it out. If it's so obvious to everyone watching what the defensive frailties are, why is it taking so long to sort them out? I'm really sorry to say this, I am, but the answer has to be that Lambert doesn't know how to. We've had over a month now in which the defence has been truly woeful and nothing, NOTHING, seems to be being done to address it. Well, nothing that actually bloody works.

I may not have been Stephen Warnock's greatest fan, but I can't recall him being as positionally naïve as Enda Stevens, as clumsy as Eric Lichaj or as shit as Joe Bennett. Yet, he's forced to train with the academy while this defensive mayhem continues. By all means exile him if he's not good enough, but at least replace him with someone better, not worse.

Don't worry though, say some, Richard Dunne is coming back! Some people have got really short memories.

Some players are rallying to the cause. Weimann, N'Zogbia and Delph are all showing signs that they realise how serious this is and are playing some exciting and creative stuff, but we've such a lack of depth that when these players have to be withdrawn, their replacements just can't hack it. Barry Bannan and Stephen Ireland get chance after chance and have proved that they are incapable of consistent performances . However, sorting out the midfield can wait until the summer. We have to build from the back.

It looks as though we are not going to bring in any fresh blood as the transfer window clocks counts down. This is a desperate state of affairs because the current incumbents of our back line have relentlessly shown that they are not good enough for either Premier League football or indeed, in my opinion, the Championship. Unless we buy at least two quality players to steady the ship then we are going to be relegated, no question about it.

And we're not going to.

Someone at the Bradford game, obviously fuming with anger suggested “I'd rather have McLeish back”. I couldn't agree with that but Paul Lambert needed to answer the big question as to whether or not he was good enough to manage Aston Villa and not with words but by the way his team performed on the pitch this week.

I fear we have our answer.  

Help! We need somebody!

Game of two halves wasn't it? Over the moon in the first half, sick as a parrot in the second.

Expect plenty more clichés like that on this site.

Oh what to rant about this week? What went so spectacularly right, or what went spectacularly wrong? In fact the two are completely interlinked. We have exciting - hairs-up-on-the-back-of-the-neck exciting – forward players but they are also forward players who haven't got a flaming clue defensively. That's not to say they are being lazy. When ordered to, they do try to do their bit. They are just spectacularly bad at it.

Three “spectacularlys” in one paragraph. I'm on fire today!

N'Zogbia's resurgence since being placed in the hole has been encouraging and for those of us who had written him off as a lazy winger happy to sit on the bench and take the salary, it has been a revelation. Yet Charlie's loud proclamation that attack is the best form of defence will only take you so far. The opposition will attack sometimes, quite a lot if we've got Barry Bannan on the pitch to give them loads of possession.

There is our issue, we can afford one striker that is useless at defending, just leave that one up-field, but more than one and you've got a serious conundrum. This is the main reason why Lambert is so loathe to have Bent and Benteke on the pitch at the same time and the reason why playing The Beast and N'Zog in the same team is also problematic.

As Albion came out for the second half playing like demons and we were forced onto the back foot (has the art of shouting “defence out” completely disappeared, how deep did we get?), Lambert may well have thought his hand was forced. The swapping of N'Zog for Holman was sort of understandable. There's a “but” though. I still thought our best chance of keeping the three points was more goals. I'd resigned myself to the inevitability that we'd leak at the back but I still wanted Charlie on that pitch, providing the bullets for Gabby and the Belgian to fire.

So as the match continued, I found myself getting angry at Brett Holman, not for anything he was doing wrong but purely for not being N'Zogbia. This is hardly fair, but it's hard to get angry with Lambert's tactics when you sort of know what he's trying to do (I still managed this feat though).

The free header which assisted the equaliser was entirely Benteke's fault and maybe the answer is just to try and teach our flair players a bit more defensive technique, mind you our defenders could do with a spot of that. Towards the end of the game, I received a text from a mate saying “How shit is Lowton”. Shit or out of position? Rubbish or losing self confidence? I think he'll develop into a fine right back, but he is still developing and in the dire straits in which we remain, every little mistake is put under the microscope.

The biggest disappointment about Saturday to me was losing Fabian Delph when he was having one of his best games in a Villa shirt. If no new signings are coming then we need players like him to rise to the occasion and he certainly did, about time but credit where credit is due. Can't say the same about Barry Bannan unfortunately, but Westwood played some lovely stuff at times.

I saw plenty to build on in this match, it really isn't all doom and gloom, but the fact remains that this squad needs help and it needs it now. Two more solid pros would make all the difference at the minute. Even if we have to pay a tad over the odds to get them, it's got to be cheaper than relegation.

Stay Away from that Trap Door...

If I said that the latest debacle was a disappointment, that wouldn't be quite true. I was expecting it. If we're honest with ourselves, the vast majority of us were.

There's no joy in visiting Villa Park any more (unless you're an away fan). Goals (for) are becoming as rare as hen's teeth and wins even rarer.

Yes, we could bleat about the penalty that wasn't but I am not gonna put Halsey on the rack over that one. He doesn't get multiple replays from fifteen angles, he has to make a decision live and on the spot. From my angle on the Holte, seeing it live, it had looked like a stonewall pen. Mistakes happen. I'm not going to castigate a referee for making a mistake that I would have made even while looking out of one eye through my claret and blue sunglasses.

The lack of on-pitch discipline is not only apparent in the positional sense of our defenders and midfield but also in the petulant behaviour of one Andreas Weimann, who spent so much of Saturday's match ranting and railing at the officials that I did wonder whether he'd had a bet on himself to get sent off. It's not the first time this season he has failed to keep his emotions in check. Pick up bookings for committed challenges by all means but please don't end up suspended for being an irresponsible gobshite.

What is clear is this, it's really hard to shout “we was robbed” when faced with yet another inept display against a one of the poorest teams in the division. Benteke missing an open goal at the end was a blow but a bigger one was the entire performance, an inability to pull out of a tailspin that is as crushing to the spirits of the claret and blue faithful as it is to the reputations of the so-called “professionals” involved.

We can all scream at Randy for more funds but it's not difficult to understand his reticence. We were among the bigger spenders in the summer but because the balance between building for the future and shoring up for the present was skewed in the wrong direction, this imbalance has to be addressed without delay. It may stick in Randy's craw and he may see it as good money after bad but the fact is, if he doesn't spend now, if he doesn't back the manager before the window slams shut, the value of the investment already made will diminish even quicker than our goal difference did over Christmas.

Money isn't the only issue though. Does Paul Lambert have the right players in his cross-hairs if the money is forthcoming? We have no choice than to trust that he does. After all, I still think that Vlaar and Benteke were great signings, I'm still perplexed as to why El Ahmadi has struggled to find his feet at Prem level, I believe Westwood can make the grade – if this season doesn't traumatise him too much – and we can always blame Holman on McLeish. (I've not given up on Holman yet, I'm just not sure that he hasn't given up on himself).

Some people seem to think that bringing back Ron Vlaar to our crumbling back line is the answer to all our prayers, blissfully ignoring the fact that we were still vulnerable at the back even while benefiting from his heroics. Some say Dunne could also be our knight in shining armour, but he was starting to look ring rusty even before this incredibly lengthy lay off and it would be a big ask to expect him to be our season's saviour.

I genuinely thought that Saturday was our last chance. We now face three games in just seven days, a schedule our creaking squad is hardly in a condition to cope with. Albion's stunning late capitulation to Reading will only make them all the keener to put us to the sword and I fear it will prove painful to watch. I can't see us doing enough to overturn the deficit against Bradford and we'll presumably be struggling for fit and unsuspended players by the time the trip to Millwall comes around. Then we face Newcastle in another must win home league game.

Confident?

Me neither.

All I hear is doom and gloom

Ten to three in the morning.

I should be sleeping.

I'm not.

I'm blogging.

Because it might not seem so bad in the cold light of day.

But it is bad.

It's very bad indeed.

We've just lost to what us old skool would refer to as a Fourth Division team. A team from the bottom tear of English football. Not even one of the better ones. An average one.

It's not as if Bradford had got this far by turning teams over. They hadn't. They haven't actually won a League Cup tie all season (until now). A string of draws followed by getting lucky in the shoot-outs is what propelled them to the semi-finals.

We can't say we were robbed. Yes, Benteke might have scored a couple on another day and Bent missed a couple of sitters but then Bradford had loads of squandered chances too and hit the crossbar. It could have been better but it could have been much worse.

Defensive naivety? Well that excuse will only take you so far, but are they learning no lessons from crushing defeat after crushing defeat? Is no work being done on the training ground? Are they not putting extra hours in to sort out what has leapt from embarrassment to abject humiliation?

Even if they are not good enough, they should at least be better than this.

It also seems that the ineptitude is catching. Even Lowton is starting to look like a bumbling incompetent whereas he was starting to look the business before the bad run started. Clark, Baker and most worryingly the Lambert-signed Bennett all look at times as though the basic fundamentals of defensive play are beyond them, while Bannan and Delph showed once again that they are ineffective against grown men. How many more chances are they going to get?

Oddly Charles N'Zogbia put a decent shift in, though this may be because he saw a semi-final as a shop window to get another lucrative move, while Andi Weimann always looked a threat, but with an inept midfield and a defence that can't get the basics right, we'll be doomed no matter what level the opposition are from.

We can get through the second leg, but if all it leads to is another humiliation at the hands of Chelsea in the Capital, do we really want to?

At the moment, I'm more concerned about the imminent visit of Southampton.

Looking forward to it?

I'm not.

Oh, and we're out of the FA Youth Cup too and at the first hurdle. Bright future and all that...

FA Cup Fever? Just me then...

As I quaff the last of the Christmas Weissbiers and shove the tinsel on top of the wardrobe for another year, it can mean only one thing, FA Cup Third Round Weekend! Not that anyone else gets that excited about that any more.

When I was a kid, the Cup was king. We didn't run round the playground dreaming of scraping into fourth place in the league in them days. No, we dreamt of the twin towers, Wembley, scoring the winning goal at the tunnel end and wiping the mud off our mitts to shake hands with The Queen.

If dreams were romantic, the actual football was blood and guts, do-or-die stuff and as penalty shoot-outs hadn't come in, sometimes epic in proportion, with third and even fourth relays sometimes necessary. The Cup WAS football.

Apart from anything else, if it wasn't a World Cup year, The FA Cup Final was pretty much the only live football screened on the telly, other than England V Scotland and it was so important it was on both channels, so the choice of viewing was football with David Coleman, football with Brian Moore or over on BBC2, the Open University and Play Away repeats with Brian Cant and Toni Arthur. Most people opted for the cup!

“Seven times we've won it, no-one else can catch us up” we used to sing with glee. One small problem though. We hadn't won it. Not in my lifetime and the thought of going to a Wembley FA Cup Final in the flesh became an obsession and the Cup itself the Holy Grail as far as I was concerned. Winning the league when I was fifteen, Champions of Europe when I was sixteen were both bloody marvellous, but it would be the year 2000 and at the very last available opportunity before they knocked the old stadium down that I would get that afternoon of my dreams. Okay, the dream turned into a bit of a nightmare on the day, but I'm still so glad I got to go.

So to the modern day and with riches of the Premier League and the allure of the Champions League taking the time and attention of the big clubs, the FA Cup is now the poor relation, no longer the pinnacle of the football season but to many just an annoying sideshow. Empty seats will abound at most of the third round ties, where once grounds were packed to the rafters.

Winning now provides a route into the equally unloved and unsupported Europa League and with TV coverage now languishing on an ITV that would rather promote Ice Skating “Celebrities” and ESPN, we don't get the satellite shows around the live matches that build up the excitement by trading on the competitions illustrious past.

I'm looking forward to FA Cup Third Round day but many, nay most of my Villa supporting buddies aren't even bothering to attend.

I'll be there and I suppose that makes me a dinosaur, but I'm hoping against hope that I'm not still around to see the FA Cup become extinct.

Respite

As Ciaran Clark lay on the ground receiving treatment yesterday, two things crossed my mind: a) would Shay Given be pressed into service as an emergency centre half, so short are we of fit defenders at the minute and b) would this make a vast amount of difference anyway, bearing in mind how desperate our defending has been.

Fact is, we got totally battered again in the opening salvoes at Swansea, this despite Lambert shuffling his midfield pack once gain in a bid to find a winning combination. Once more they failed to do anything but stand back and watch the opposition and this time was, in a way, even more frightening as Swansea's strike-force consistently strolled past our back line as if it wasn't there.

Somehow though, the finishing just wasn't there from the Welsh outfit and they displayed a Liverpoolesque talent for squandering goal opportunities. Slowly, ever so slowly we began to inch our way back into proceedings. Benteke showed signs of stirring, Weimann never stopped at least trying and Albrighton was at times industrious (in a Holman kind of way) if not that effective.

Then the magic happened. Weimann scored. Since our last entry in the goals for column, there had been seventeen against, so this was a moment of significance, a glimmer of hope. As the second half wore on and a still dominant Swansea's frustration at not converting this into goals grew, the unthinkable happened. We got a penalty, and with no-one brave enough to even attempt to wrest the ball from Benteke grasp, he took it with aplomb. There's your new penalty taker right there.

Has we won this match though, it would have been a mugging and frustrating though it was to succumb to a late equaliser when most other games had already finished, we couldn't feel too hard done by. The fact that we were a gnat's whisker from going above Newcastle was a sign that we're not dead and buried just yet.

The biggest concern though was the fate of Ashley Westwood - before the nightmare run, he was emerging as one of the season's glimmers of light - we can only hope his absence will be brief.

Two matches ahead now in which to put the traumas of the League behind us. Ipswich will see our terrible form as an opportunity to cause an upset and surely the telly bosses would have done too had our cataclysmic run began before the TV games were chosen. As it is, we get another Saturday 3 o'clock-er and in what sadly will be a half empty Villa Park. Recent form, a pile-up of home fixtures and the somewhat tarnished allure of the FA Cup have conspired to make this the least attractive of our January games.

January is jam-packed full of matches and we can only hope that while Lambert is dealing with things on the pitch, he was an army of lieutenants out trying to bring in some level headed pros to steady the ship, preferably before they all end up getting cup-tied on Saturday.

Not holding my breath though...

Spineless

What a difference a fortnight makes...

A three-nil triumph away at Anfield, a frighteningly good performance from Benteke in the process, all on the back of a quarter-final triumph in Mustardland and the prospect of a February trip to Wembley looming large, everything in the garden seemed lovely...

..except it didn't...not if you were looking at the performances as well as the results... and the battering we received before the scoring began at Anfield was as bad or worse then any of the horrors in the three Christmas debacles, while we gave Norwich enough chances to bury us but thankfully these fell to Grant Morison...

In those games though, we were able to regroup, get our own passing going and create enough chances to get a decent return. Just two weeks ago, it looked as thought the team had found some much need fluidity and our biggest problem this term – a lack of goals – had finally been addressed.

Of course the problem with scoring goals is that you need to keep possession long enough to do it and what the Wigan game ably demonstrated is that the main problem here isn't the quality of the opposition, more the fact that whoever we are playing, we can't wait to give them the bloody ball back. Dead simple rule in football, the opposition can't hurt you while you've got the pig's bladder so when under pressure, just keeping it for a bit and passing it around can not only give you some respite, it can restore confidence levels and wind up the enemy. You don't have to find the killer ball in the first five seconds.

At the moment Villa's men (forget this “boys” claptrap, if they're good enough, they're old enough and if they're not good enough they shouldn't be there) can't wait to get rid of the spherical thing. Does it smell of shit or something? Time and again, we lose the impetus with stupid, mistimed or speculative “passes”. Yes, the back three is leaking like a sieve, but that should make it all the more important to create stuff at the other end. Why aren't we? Because we're too terrified to keep the ball long enough to manage it. Spineless? You bet!

When the season began I'd imagined that our spine would be Given - Vlaar- El Ahmadi - Bent; not really a scenario that has worked out.

For Given, we now have Guzan who has, to be fair to him, taken his chance both hands and by and large not dropped it. There are those who believe that in the current turmoil, Given may be more guiding and supportive of the shell-shocked defence, but there were decidedly rocky moments from him at Norwich and whether it's ring-rust or not, I wouldn't be looking to pitch him back in now.

We've desperately missed  Ron Vlaar, not just as a defender but as a leader of men and with Dunne almost certainly never to wear the claret and blue again as his contract reaches expiry, surely we are crying out for an experienced centre half in the January window. Maybe we need to entice someone with one eye on a coaching future but certainly we need more mentors in the squad and a calmer old head would be more than welcome right now. What we certainly need is a spare defensive vertebrae in the spine for when Concrete isn't available

El Ahmadi is a bit of an enigma. I was filled with hope when we saw him playing creative expressive football in pre-season, though that was at lowly Burton. It seemed obvious at the time though that it would take some months for the Benelux imports to get used to the pace of the Prem (remember how long it took Bouma) but to do that you need to be playing. After a fairly disastrous debut, Ashley Westwood began to emerge as a decent talent and “El Dave” - having been anonymous in many games - lost his place, something that seems to have destroyed his confidence and his game at a point when we really need older heads like him to be the on-field leaders. The fact that this key signing hasn't really come off is one of Lambert's major headaches as he attempts to pull things round.

We are crying out for a strong central midfielder to pull things together. Westwood may well be that in the future, but he's not ready yet.

Whatever the truth is about the Darren Bent situation, I don't believe we're being told it, though if he isn't the type of striker Lambert wants to work with, it would be wise to cash in those particular chips now as long as those chips are spent on a proven replacement.  I believe that both Weimann and Benteke will only improve and if we can get the midfield sorted than goals will flow from the strike force.

So where are we? Money must be spent in January. Money will be spent in January and Lambert will have to veer from his build for the future policy in this window because given the massive size of the new TV deal, this is the worst possible season in which to be relegated.

Action must be taken now.

Get rid of Lambert? Definitely not. We simply can't keep switching jockeys but what he should be doing and his players should be doing is getting down on their knees and apologising for what has been a deeply depressing Christmas for anyone with claret and blue blood coursing through their veins. Saying sorry can't erase the memories but it could be start of the healing process.

Mister Lambert, your supporters are hurting at the moment.

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Inevitably, the trauma of the Worst Villa Christmas EVER has led to calls for Randy Lerner's head. A bit knee-jerk that, unless anyone can see a viable alternative on the horizon. If no-one wants to buy and if he doesn't want to sell then no amount of poorly painted bedsheets or venomous tweets will change the situation.

Happy New Year.

Don't have nightmares.

Boxing Day Indigestion...

Puppetmaster Gerry Anderson's death was announced yesterday. Just hours later, it didn't seem evident that anyone was pulling the strings at Villa Park either...

I started to lose faith on the short taxi ride from the city centre pub in which we'd been attempting to anaesthetise ourselves against the horrors to come, having seen the team news on Twitter. One striker. Just one. The team sheet itself looked like this was going to be backs to the wall operation. Unfortunately, it transpired that not too many of our team even knew where the wall was.

We were totally and utterly battered in the first half, which at least meant we got to see some action down at The Holte End. This was capitulation, pure and simple, from a defence that looked like they'd been at the valium and a midfield yet again prepared to stand back and watch the opposition pass the ball. The idea of actually keeping possession ourselves - if only to take some off the pressure off if not to try and create something – never seemed to enter anyone's head.

How got to half-time at nil-nil is a mystery to me – partially because by 40 minutes I'd seen enough and was already quaffing Strongbow in the Holte Suite – though the general consensus was that Mister Guzan was our saving grace... comes to something when a keeper who has had to pick the ball out of the net twelve times in two games is your glimmer of light. This was a big chance for Delph and El Ahmadi to re-establish themselves. They didn't seem that bothered.

Credit to the opposition though, Defoe put on the kind of display that has many of us casting envious eyes at White Hart Lane over the years, while Gareth Bale responded to the constant barbs about his simian like appearance by knocking in three to add the final barbed sprig of holly into Villa's ruined Christmas.

Not sure where we go from here... we can't keep changing the manager but we expected and needed something after the shellshock of the Chelsea and what the team actually managed to serve up was, to my eyes, even worse...

Twelve – nil in two games may sound bad but I always say don't just look at the results look at the performances... the performances were actually even more terrible than those scorelines would suggest and all played out on live telly to the delight of our knuckle-dragging, braying neighbours.

Make no mistake, we're in a dogfight now. We might just need to nip out and buy a couple of dogs...

The clanging chimes of doom

Amazing how the “the clanging chimes of doom” merchants and the wild optimists are often the same bunch of people.

“Wahey! We've won three one away and the only way is up” and “Bloody Hell! We've been massacred and we're doomed!” has been the sentiment from people who seem incapable of understanding that it doesn't have to be just one thing or the other.

In fact any who had watched the away adventures at Norwich and Liverpool would not have been overly surprised by the fact that we would eventually take a caning.

At Norwich, Grant Morison – a striker we are allegedly interested in signing – had a Savo of an evening, missing gilt-edged chance after gilt edged chance and had he been on form, we wouldn't all be looking a London hotel prices in late February.

In Scouseland, we were more on the rack against Brendan's men in the first twenty minutes that ever we were in the early stages of the Stamford Bridge. The big difference here is that while Liverpool squandered chance after chance, Chelsea pounced with a ruthless efficiency.

So while in Lambert I still trust, I've not been a massive fan of this formation, even though when we do get the chance to go forward, it has at times given us some much needed width. This width was not in evidence at Chelsea, as the full backs were too timid to risk forward runs, our midfield seemed contempt to step back and admire Chelsea's passing skills rather than close them down and Chelsea's well marshalled offside trap was all that was required to nullify the threat of the Beast of B6.

Men against Boys? I don't buy into that argument. 23 years old is hardly a boy, they are getting games under their belts now and they are all in the side because of an injury crisis, seasoned professional and experienced Premier League campaigner N'Zogbia didn't even make the bench.

For me it was the subs that finally sunk us (not that we weren't doomed by then anyway), I found the replacement of Westwood with Ireland particularly puzzling, while this probably wasn't the best moment to throw a Joe Bennett who has yet to win the hearts and minds of the Villa faithful back into the fray.

Still, although the goal difference column looks a tad on the bleak side, we should dust ourselves down and get on with it. After all a loss against Chelsea isn't the end of the world, no matter how apocalyptic the scoreline may looked.

It would be an understandable reaction if a bit of fear crept in now but a few fresh faces in the Christmas games could see a whole new attitude and I'm sure that Delph, Concrete and El Dave will be chomping at the bit for another chance to establish their credentials. Taking nothing away from Ciaran Clark, who has been a able deputy, I'd like to see Vlaar back in the team and in the armband, providing the sort of gutsy leadership that galvanises teams and supporters alike. I certainly don't think we've seen anywhere near of El Ahmadi's best yet and still think that could come off as a great signing while Delph seems to split opinion but when on form, but I've still not given up on him.

I'd always said that it would be January before we started to see the best of the new intake and it well be that the severe thrashing we've just taken could be the springboard we need to graft our way up that table. Certainly, any complacency will have been banished.

8 – nil might have made Christmas less merry but it might, just might herald a happy new year...