Argyle 2 Watford 1

By: Jim | March 4th, 2009

A first home win since Boxing Day was greeted by the Home Park faithful with roars of delight and no little relief. Like Saturday, the results of the teams around us meant that the three points were vital just to stay out of the drop zone: and the beating of a team with relegation worries of their own was thus doubly vital. But the bare statistics aside, Argyle and the ‘Orns played out an entertaining encounter in far from ideal conditions which, in the end, Argyle deservedly won. Before the match, Bob The Pessimist, who sits behind me, informed us all that his mother-in-law had called the last three games correctly and had told him before he set off that, “You’ll win – it’ll be a bit tense, but you’ll be OK”. So it proved.

Sturrock opted for just one change – the ‘other’ on-loan Blackburnite Alan Judge in for Chris Clark. The bigger surprises were sprung by Rodgers, whose decision to leave out McAnuff, Cork and most bizarrely of all Tommy Smith was mystifying to say the least. But Watford had the early pressure, with both Hoskins and Cowie whipping in dangerous crosses from the right in the first three minutes leaving the Argyle defence statuesque. By this time Mike Williamson, the former Wycombe centre-back, whom Argyle had once been rumoured to be on the point of bringing in, was in the book for a walloping challenge on Barnes and as the half wore on Argyle grew in confidence and – heavens preserve us – actually began playing some football. Barnes was giving Williamson a torrid time: his low centre of gravity and speed of turn (sic) making him a real handful. Carl Fletcher was dominating Lee Williamson and Jenkins in midfield. Alan Judge was pacy and committed and Mackie had the beating of Jon Harley every single time. In short, we were all over them. Barnes hit the bar with a stunning turn and shot from the edge of the area: and then did it again five minutes later with a header from a Gallagher free-kick. In between, the howls of protest from the Green Army reached fever pitch as Williamson flattened Gallagher but was given, instead of the second yellow and red he undoubtedly deserved, an absolutely final final warning by referee Nigel Miller. It looked, for all the world, as if it was going to be one of *those evenings again.

Just as the conspiracy theorists were dusting down their evidence, though, Judge burst through on the left. His powerful run took him into the box: and just when he seemed to have run out of room, Gavin Hoyte inexplicably decided to slice him in two, leaving Miller with no option but to point to the spot. Gally grabbed the ball and, after waiting for the whistle with his back to goal, slammed it into the top right hand corner. It was the very least we deserved. Malky Mackay was sent from the dugout for reasons not immediately clear and Argyle played out the last ten minutes of the half in some comfort.

Unsurprisingly, Rodgers chose to replace the willing but limited Hoskins with the talismanic and talented Smith. Immediately Watford looked a different proposition: we always struggle against genuine pace, and while Smith has that in abundance, he is also one of the League’s most skillful and tricky players. Jamie Mackie could learn plenty from him. The pitch also seemed to be taking its toll: suddenly the youthful Jenkins was quicker to the ball than the aging Fletcher and Duguid and Argyle were being forced on to the back foot, with the ball coming straight back at us every time we cleared our lines. And then, right on cue, one of those calamitous defensive errors which we really ought to be down at the Patent Office protecting our copyright on. Cathcart dithered; Seip slipped; Cathcart looked at the ball and Smith, with almost literally a cheery wave of thanks, dived in, rounded Larrieu and fired home. The crowd slumped into that far-too-familiar attitude of heartbreak and resignation and you could see the confidence and the belief drain out of the men in green. All Watford now: surely only a matter of time before they scored again.

With Mackie increasingly isolated on the right hand side and Williamson now winning his battles against Barnes, mainly because the balls being played to him were above his head rather than at his chest, Sturrock made a positional switch. Mackie up front, Judge to the right, Gallagher to the left. Within a minute the magic had worked. Judge came inside, slid the ball across, Mackie dummied exquisitely and there was Gallagher to take a stride and sidefoot home past a despairing Loach. Surely this time, we could hold on. Rodgers, to my despair, threw on Rasiak: in a fit of superstition I bit my tongue and refused to say out loud, “He always scores against us”. And in all truth, bar one almighty scramble at the end with Cathcart doing his utmost to turn the ball into his own net and the Watford players and bench screaming for a penalty (for what precisely none seem able to divine but they), it was a relatively panic-free last fifteen. It sure didn’t feel like it though.

The emergence – utterly unexpected – of Barnes as a starting striker is probably the biggest plus point of our season to date. Our bloated squad clearly needs culling, and up until last Friday I would guess that he would have been high on people’s lists to be out the door. No longer – at least on the evidence of last night. That may be bad news for MacLean and Easter – but it is great news for us. He needs a longer contract NOW. As far as the relegation picture is concerned, it just gets murkier by the week. Only Blackpool, Barnsley and Charlton failed to win either of their games Saturday and Tuesday and us, Saints and Forest won both. Watford showed plenty to suggest they will still be here next season: if we are to join them, we need 11 more points. Three wins, two draws. Ten games. Come on. COME ON.