There's a Drummond noise inside my head that starts when you're around

After a hectic festive period, welcome to the bleak midwinter. “Thought we had a million-pound pitch? We shouldn’t be having matches postponed for a bit of frost! Fucking tinpot!”. It’s been -8C overnight this week, it’s barely been above freezing, and people were being told not to travel because of Storm Goretti on Thursday. Sometimes you have to do the sensible thing rather than the mad bastard just-soldier-on-my-mum-didn’t-fight-at-D-Day-for-this thing.

We can’t say we didn’t see these postponements coming. Even by the standards of Ice Station Zebra, it was bitterly cold on New Year’s Day. I was wearing thermal tights under my jeans, two pairs of socks and gloves, a jumper and a fleece under my big coat, and I was still considering going home and getting back under the duvet at half-time because it was so cold it was painful. I hope the bloke on our row who was wearing shorts is OK.

📸 Oldham Athletic. Gary Brabin is an absolute headcase.

The cold wasn’t the only reason I wanted to fuck off at half-time. The first half was pretty crap. It was a good finish that gave Chesterfield the lead 21 minutes in, but it was poor defending in the build-up. Robson kept the ball in play on the right then had the ball nicked off him, and Berry squared it to Lewis, unmarked down their left (where we were wide open, several times). Fair play, it was a good goal, but it wasn’t pleasant to watch for us.

We missed a few chances in the opening 45, but none quite so spectacular as Quigley’s. Credit where it’s due, it was him who played it to Pett, who’d made a good run down the right, and his run into the box meant the keeper was beaten when Pett put it on a plate for him in the 6-yard box…. And he somehow managed to put it wide of the open goal. “Drummond would have scored that.” Those words turned out to be prophetic.

Our horrible luck with injuries continued, with Harratt, only just establishing himself back in the team, forced off early in the second half, having taken a knock on his ankle early in the game. Early enough that we maybe should have subbed him at half-time, at least, but I’m guessing he was – understandably - desperate to try to play on.

He was replaced by Drummond, who finally, finally, thank fuck finally broke his duck and got a goal in a real competition. It looked so easy, you wondered why it had taken so long. Hudson played a long ball forward, Quigley – who hadn’t had the best of games – headed it on well, and Drummond’s one-touch finish was so confident, and so assured, you’d think he’d been banging them in all season. Get in, Kane lad. 2026 is gonna be your year. We’ll let you off for getting a daft booking for taking your shirt off, the moment justified it.

📸 Sean Walsh

There were some great saves by Hudson from Berry and Mandeville, and there were some perplexing offside decisions from the officials. Did they just…not know that you can’t be offside in your own half? I thought that the referee had otherwise been pretty good, but he certainly wasn’t helped by his assistant.

The call for dark arts was made 69 minutes in, with Garner coming on for Hannant. McFadzean had been a right dirty get all afternoon (and got a yellow card for pulling Quigley’s arm earlier in the half), so it was hilarious to see him try it on with Garner at a corner and get what looked a lot like a nipple gripple for his trouble.

McFadzean’s endless fouling gave us a golden chance to take all three points in injury time, when he got a second yellow for yet again fouling Drummond in the penalty area. Garner never misses. Garner was definitely going to win the game for us. He put it down the middle…and Hemmings saved it with his trailing leg. It was a very good save, but it was gutting. God love him, Garner looked furious with himself.

📸 Phill Smith

There was arguably more action in stoppage time than there was in most of the rest of the match. Chesterfield hit us on the break from a corner, and Bonis’ shot was well over the bar with only Hudson to beat. There was still time for us to fit another horror miss in, unfortunately. From Woods’ corner, their keeper came for the ball and missed it, and Monthe headed over the bar from about a yard out. It just wasn’t our day.

Mellon was disappointed after the game, but took some pride in the fact that he felt we should have beaten Chesterfield, who made the League Two play-offs last season and were currently in a play-off position in the league. He was as delighted as we all were at Drummond scoring: “he’s a lively little guy…. That’s something he does every day in training, by the way”. He also showed signs of the post-Christmas brain fog that everyone suffers from: “we’ll be in tomorrow and the go and see my mate the bus driver on…. what day of the week is it?”

(I don’t know whether his mate the bus driver got a well-earned day off with the Bromley game being postponed the day before. I believe the squad may have already been on the road. I hope they put the hotel rooms to good use and had a night out, they’ve worked hard over Christmas, they’ve earned it.)

Drummond, bless ‘im, declared himself “made up”, and said the goal was a big weight off his shoulders. I love the face he pulled when Suzanne Geldard asked him (a little tongue-in-cheek) if there was any thought of him not celebrating against his old club. There clearly was not. Good for you, Kane. We’re all made up for you.

📸Sean Walsh

I can’t say I was happy with the result, because we should never be happy with a draw at home against any team in the same league as us. But I’d have taken it at half-time, it completed an unbeaten festive period, and I Was There When Drummond Scored. Lots of positives to take.

What are we all doing with our free Saturday? Some people are heading to Gigg Lane to watch Bury vs Avro (currently 2nd vs 3rd in the Northern Premier League West). And before you start, Bury have got a 3G pitch. We haven’t, because we’re in the Football League. I’m gonna continue to harangue OASF to set up a sticker sale and swap shop in a pub somewhere. Whatever you’re doing, wrap up warm, look after yourselves, and, as always, KTMFF.

📸 Oldham Athletic

Written by Arlene Finnigan