Charlie's going to be a play-off star

Easter, the holiest festival in the Christian calendar, when the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is celebrated. Would we be celebrating the resurrection of our play-off hopes?

After the 2-0 shitshow v York at home in January, I wasn’t optimistic going into this game. Was braced for a hammering, a Josh Stones hat-trick and my Twitter notifications to be full of their wee Reply Guys. Thankfully, that did not come to pass.

The starting line-up didn’t exactly inspire hope. Fondop up front on his own again, ole ole. Why? Where was Harratt? He wasn’t injured and 2 games in 4 days shouldn’t be too much for a strapping lad of his age. It was good to see Uchegbulam and Yoganathan both starting, that suggested we might get forward and go for it, but what was the formation? 3-6-1?

Our bad luck with injuries continued 15 minutes in. Caprice has been great for us, even when we’ve been playing like crap, so seeing him pull up clutching his hamstring was absolutely gutting. I’d guess that’s him done for the season. Even if our season isn’t over for another 5 weeks. Bollocks. Hope you’re on the mend soon, Jake. I thought at the time that bringing Raglan, an injured centre half, on for an injured winger made no sense, but the Lord and Micky Mellon both work in mysterious ways.

We had chances in the first half – Yoganathan did well to control the ball and bring it down 17 minutes in, but his shot was wide. Bloody hell, but we struggled when they hit us on the break, though. Stones wasn’t the only ex-Latic that York had in their squad, and I was convinced that Luamba was going to score when Armstrong played him through, but thankfully he shot straight at Hudson.

Half an hour in, we got caught out by a long ball. I know we’re down to the bare bones at the back, but it’s still disappointing when that happens. Maybe Hudson could have done better with Felix’s shot from outside the box; maybe that’s harsh.

Oli Hammond (remember him? He is risen! Hallelujah!) played well, but his performance will probably be remembered for two chances he missed either side of half time. Towards the end of the first half, good work down the left wing set him up on the edge of the penalty area, but his tame shot was well saved. Early in the second half, he had a pop at goal but, as Roy would say, all the lemons came up and he was well off target. Fondop and Uchegbulam were both frustrated that he didn’t pass to them, but, in fairness, it wasn’t Mikey’s best game, and he missed some chances himself.

Pritchard came on for Evans to give Fondop some much-needed support in attack, but, for the second game running, it would be our defensive rock scoring to bring us level. Pett’s corner was met with another towering header at the back post by Raglan, playing superbly through the pain barrier. What a tactical masterstroke to bring him on for Caprice! Micky Mellon IS a football genius.

Stones came on 65 minutes in, was enthusiastically booed by 1453 Latics fans, and promptly made himself at home in Charlie Raglan’s back pocket. I’m glad Norwood wasn’t there to see it. It would have broken his heart. Or made him cackle like the little shitbag he is.

Yoganathan was arguably lucky to only get a yellow card for a foul on Crookes 74 minutes in. I kind of like how he throws himself into tackles when he’s visibly both taller than Andy (6ft 3) and probably 2 stone lighter than me (5ft 1). Every time he does it, I worry that both of his legs are going to break. It was probably wise to bring him off for Pritchard, though.

I’d have probably snapped your hand off for a draw before the game. Micky Mellon disagreed: “can I be greedy and say I think we deserved more?” He rightly praised Raglan as a “warrior”, Hammond as “outstanding”, and our support as “magnificent”. Arselicker. (Only kidding, Michael, we love you too. This week.) He also stressed how big a job he took on in rebuilding the squad when he arrived as manager, with the amusingly bizarre comment that “I never took over the Harlem Globetrotters”.

Charlie Raglan was justifiably delighted at scoring in back-to-back games: “they seem to come in twos for me!” He also had a hilariously unnecessary sly dig at York’s (and everyone else’s) ground, saying “our ground’s very unique in our league”. Why yes, it is. Let it inspire rather than intimidate you, lads. Appreciate what a privilege it is to play at this marvellous arena every other week.

As if it wasn’t a bad enough week for York, what with them not winning the league, a heavy metal band called Plague of Angels played at York Minster last night. I’m not a big heavy metal fan, as you’ve probably guessed from the lyric puns, but Andy is, and he assures me that Plague of Angels “sound like wank”. Thanks for that, Lester Bangs. I would not be at all surprised if this astonishing act of sacrilege (so soon after Holy Week! And Papà Francesco has barely gone cold!) results in the place being hit by lightning and set on fire again, like what happened in 1984, 3 days after the consecration of a bishop who said that the resurrection of Christ was “just a conjuring trick with bones”. May God have mercy on us all.

May God have mercy specifically on those of you who started downing the Jagers on the booze bus at 7am this morning. Safe journey if you’re off to Forest Green today, it is a LONG way from anywhere. And ignore the gammons, the Q pies are dead nice. We’ll be following the match at home, then going to a comedy night at Boundary Park. Write your own punchline, I can’t be arsed. We can’t catch FGR for third place, but we can let them know we won’t be fucked with in the playoffs. Prove me wrong, Micky. KTMFF.

Written by Arlene Finnigan. Photos © Thomas Lee Stacey.