As though to mirror this very website (that you are, so kindly, reading now) Bolton Wanderers have found themselves in a position for a fresh start. To 'pick up the slack' is a term that seems to fit the situation that Dougie Freedman has put himself in as he took charge of his first game against Cardiff City at the weekend, the idea behind the phrase refers to the tightening of a rope that has become loose as a result of lazy or inadequate pulling work on the part of the participants in what can only be assumed to be some sort of tug of war, and (as avid readers of this sparsely populated blog will come to expect) an analogy can be drawn to the footballing world of our very own Bolton Wanderers. The 'slack', in this case, being the performances of the players and the 'picker upper' of said slack is now our leader and commander, Dougie Freedman. Certainly, the ability of the squad is not a problem, players like Petrov, Mavies, Eagles and Spearing appear to have ability in abundance. Indeed, our midfield is a veritable feast of skill and creativity, so much so that the impending return of the prodigal Stuart Holden leaves many fans looking for a player that deserves to lose their place to the talented Yank. No, the ability of the squad has never been the problem, it has so far been the inconstancy and disappointing nature of the performances that have caused us to sink as low as eighteenth in a league I personally expected the team to slice through like a hot knife through butter. So Freedman, by all accounts, must be seen by Phil Gartside as a man who possesses a unique set of skills that Coyle sadly did not possess... the ability to draw the best out of the players at his disposal.
The term, 'Be All That You Can Be' was brought to the American military by a branch called the New Earth Army, who (as any of you that have read 'The Men Who Stare At Goats' are aware ) believed that humans could tap into, as before undiscovered, supernatural abilities that would give any soldier a distinct advantage over their enemy on the battle field. Now it is the job of Freedman to perform equally incredible acts of mental strength and influence his new squad to really be all that they can be. To stand up and accept the pressure that everyone is expecting promotion, everyone is expecting... more of them. Ok, a bit of a tangent I grant you, but this must be the mentality of every player from now on, and I believe that the new Scot is fully capable of rallying his troops and getting them back to the league we all know they belong (the premier league... for all you cynics)
The weekend saw the best and worse of the old and new Bolton. The lacklustre dirge of the first half and the exciting come back of the second. A change from Coyle's old regime was immediately noticeable, the defensive formation at home, the passing wide from central positions rather than always looking for the forward pass. It was new, it was interesting, it didn't work... at least, not at first. The team looked nervous and far from thriving from 'the new manager syndrome', they looked like players all desperate not to make the first mistake and consequently never really took or even created a chance. The Cardiff opener was a ghost of the farcical defending that lead to Owen Coyle's departure, an all too familiar Zat Knight 'last minute lunge' caused an unsighted Adam Bogdan to miss what would otherwise have hopefully been a routine save for the keeper. Bolton went in at the break 1-0 down. Now, only a hand full of matches ago, fans would have taken their seats for the second half waiting like lambs for the slaughter for the inevitable collapse of Bolton in the early minutes of the second half after what can only be assumed to be a fifteen minute break of Owen Coyle regaling them of tedious stories of his latest trip down the shops (complete with slide-show presentation), such was the lethargic response to the half time team talk we had all come to expect. But, by the ruling of Freedman, no such response came... far from it. We were quick, passing the ball in the same 'left, to centre, to right' fashion as the first half, but this time with a real punch and sense of purpose. We were 1-0 down after all and this was clearly not acceptable in front of the new boss.
The real change came when an unusually ineffective Kevin Davies was replaced by David N'Gog, a player who has so far struggled to really create a groove for himself in the first team. N'Gog was almost immediately on the score sheet only to be wrongly adjudged as being offside. But this was a sign of a striker who new he had an impression to make, and was choosing to make the right one. He had one of those games, the likes of which I have not seen at the Reebok since Ivan Klasnic was (within the space of fifteen minutes or so) knocked unconscious, on the score sheet and then sent off in a dazzling display of what a player can do when they are fighting for a place in the team. N'Gog was equally busy, winning the penalty that the consistently brilliant Martin Petrov tucked away in expert fashion, scoring with a cute flick of his right foot from a driven Sam Ricketts attempt, booked for an innocuous clattering of limbs and then sent off only to be escorted off the pitch by the rapturous applause of the grateful Bolton Wanderers fans. Although unfortunately unavailable for the midweek game, the Frenchman can have done himself no harm for a real shot at first team action with his performance at the weekend.
So, like the Bolton Wanderers of the Dougie Freedman era, I too have decided to pick up the slack. In this case, the 'slack' being the lack of use of this blog... but I'm sure you already guessed that. Hopefully a documentation of the rise back to the highest heights of the premier league, I will keep on howling my football based ramblings into the dark night sky of the internet, do please feel free to join me.
