So, with Wembley now a long-forgotten footnote a new season is upon us, a season potentially and irritatingly set to be ravaged by all the gruelling old nonsense that plagued the last one, as THE plague continues to hang around as unwelcomely as Andy Woolmer at an Edgar Street Golden Moments convention.
However, as vaccinations become ever-more-universally jabbed into arms, and variants hopefully calm down a bit, perhaps we can actually get through to May this time around, having been able to get to games and enjoy the thrills and spills of the rollercoaster ride that is following our team.
The Bulls kick off the season with what looks to be a reasonably winnable home fixture, certainly if the pre-season optimism floating around is to be turned into cold, hard, promotion-flavoured fact. Farsley Celtic are the visitors, a side who typically sit in mid-table, winning, losing and drawing alternately, harmlessly minding their own business.
Striker Jimmy Spencer has been with the club since 2018, scoring 35 goals in 81 appearances during that time, which is none too shabby and puts him firmly in the ‘dangerman’ category. Hopefully he’ll run onto the pitch in a cape with a ‘D’ on his chest to highlight that fact to the Hereford defenders.
In previewing this fixture the last time it was allowed to take place in 2019/20, I, like the club, was seemingly in a dark place:
“The Bulls go into this one looking truly ragged, with attendances and league position both plummeting following some really quite awful performances. The inability to defend a corner, a set piece, a throw-in – the inability to defend anything really, leaves the players with a mountain to climb in attempting to get back into matches.”
Tim Harris had just left (having somehow remained in some sort of post into the brief Russell Slade tenure) and thankfully things then started to pick up, albeit very slowly, from there, to such an extent that an 8-1 pre-season loss to Cheltenham is now a tolerated blip.
If any good came of that blip it was that a/ any complacency would have instantly evaporated with the realisation that there was still lots of work to do and players to sign, and b/ if the bookies think Cheltenham will finish second bottom in League 1 (which they do) Shrewsbury, who only won 2-1 at Edgar Street the week before having largely been outplayed, are surely doomed.
Unless it was all a cunning plan to lull National League North rivals into a false sense of security, results from the pre-season programme generally haven’t exactly inspired unbridled confidence, which would make that aforementioned summer optimism among fans look a little misplaced, until you factor in the faith they now have in the Gowling/Burr partnership. With Jon Hale back at the pointy end of the ship in his role as chief optimist and rabble rouser (and, er, chairman), the catalogue of amateurish mistakes of the last few years off the pitch look rectifiable.
There’s a smattering of new or newish arrivals who look like quality additions to a small squad that looks almost very good indeed if bad luck with injuries doesn’t put a spanner in the works: pacy frontmen Miles Storey and Ryan McLean, midfield playmakerJames Vincent, and tricky Maziar Khouyhar should all complement the players in the Bulls ranks already very much proven at this level: TOE, Brandon Hall, and Jared Hodgkiss for example. If the squad can gel early doors, hit the ground running and, I dunno, do a third meaningless cliché really well, who knows what might be possible? As we all know, two or three wins = 3000+ crowds = a noisy Meadow End = almost inevitable success for a club arguably at least a division lower than it should be. That’s just maths (apart from the words in between), and you can’t argue with maths, as I understand it/them.
However, the squad, at the time of writing, really is very small, with a commanding, unbullyable, unbelievable centre-half badly needed (bitter experience teaches us that this division tramples all over teams lacking a bit of granite at the back), so we should probably expect the announcement of a flurry of signings not long before kick-off on Saturday.
A key tactic, enthusiastically pursued by Gowling and Burr last season, will presumably still be to the fore this term, namely to energetically put pressure on the opposition high up the field, an approach which must surely now be known parochially as ‘The Stowford Press’.
The fixtures this season avoid front-loading with midweek games, presumably to allow space for Covid-related Saturday postponements to fill those midweek slots, so slow starters won’t be under quite so much pressure to sort themselves out before Christmas, but it would be smashing to get that first win in the bag here, with a trip to Bradford, a home match against promotion favourites Fylde, and a derby of sorts at Telford to follow before August is through. It would also be smashing for the players to win in front of an adoring crowd, after all the effort put in last season in front of no-one to get to Wembley.
Some people will understandably still have their reservations about mass gatherings, although season ticket sales seemed reasonably buoyant under the circumstances. Personally I can’t wait to push myself through that rusty old turnstile again, and it would be lovely to share the experience with 2000+ fellow rusty old turnstile-pushers (take that phrase as you will, depending on your vintage).
COYW