At the weekend we witnessed the epitome of 'end of season lacklustre-ness', a dreadfully slow game with a disappointing outcome, the likes of which I genuinely couldn't see coming (damn my youthful optimism).We kicked off against Sunderland and two hours later I realised only twenty minutes had passed us by, neither team could seem to carve out many chances, and of the two teams (both decimated by injuries), we looked like the only ones capable of taking a chance if one came our way. Taylor had a good chance early on but was thwarted by an impressive Mignolet, Sturridge had an uncharacteristically mediocre game that showed us all just how we will suffer when the time comes for him to show Torres where the net is, back at Chelsea. The diminutive duo Stephane Sessegnon and El Mohamady where kept quiet under the looming shadows of Cahill and Knight for most of the game and so no real goal threat came from either. No, it was Old Father Time himself that broke down our defence (after so many fouls in the Sunderland penalty box the linesman could have opened up a chicken coop), the ball was played straight down the field and although it looked off-side at the time, replays show that one of ours was actually playing him on, any guesses who...? That's right! It was, of course, Paul 'El Libero' Robinson, who then stopped and called for the off-side instead of pumping those crazy legs back to the goal to defend against Zenden who calmly rounded Jussi and slotted the ball home. One minute before half time, brilliant.
The second half started better with Gardner coming on for Muamba, our one remaining creative talent in the midfield with Mavies and Holden out, just what the doctor ordered. For a while it looked like the change had made some difference, the game was more fluid, less passes going astray and the Jamaicans influence looked to be swinging the match our way. But for Mignolet I am sure we could have taken something from the game. It took Coyle seventy five minutes to decide to bring on Klasnic, seventy five minutes to long if the stats are anything to go by (Klasnic has now scored the same amount of goals as he has had starts in the premier league, twelve), and sure enough, the goal machine did what he does best... score, obviously. The Sunderland fans were quiet, the Bolton fans woke up... just in time to see the substitute Muntari take a stroll through our defence and slide the ball across the face of goal for Knight to fumble over the line. Summing up perfectly the last couple of weeks, we left the stadium with nothing but fond anticipation of the summer break.
There is still time though, time to end the season on a high. The trip down to the seaside on Saturday will give us a huge chance to do this; to beat Blackpool, a team fighting tooth and nail to keep it's premier league hopes alive would be quite an achievement (although personally, I'd sure like to see Blackpool beat the drop, they add a bit of colour to the league, one might say).
Man of the match against Sunderland? The sponsors gave it Cahill, but there is something in me that feels the need to disagree with whatever they say, so I'll give it Taylor again, it could have been Gardner though. Taylor looked like the only one out on the pitch that didn't have his head on a sandy white beach somewhere, he seems to be playing like a man who knows his place is never safe and this suits him, it gives him the edge over Petrov in this respect and I think he genuinely enjoys the playing time.
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