It’s odd, isn’t it, that for so long Stevenage were, to me, anti-football. I was a sheep like the rest of them, but under Alex Revell something has changed. Maybe it’s because he’s not an obnoxious character on the sidelines, although being close to the dugouts was funny. Lewis Sandoe, the fourth official, was having a tough afternoon. The technical area looked tiny, it’s a tight stadium, and Sandoe was constantly on at David Preece, Chris Cohen and Tom Shaw for being out of it. I found it hilarious watching Cohen explain to him there was barely enough room in the dugout for them all. It was also refreshing to see two benches committed, but not playing a role like Evans and his little whimpering sidekick.
On the field, while the chances remained few and far between, I kept enjoying the game. We shifted shape in the second half, adding as much width as the tight pitch allowed, and we got a bit more joy. There were chances for us, Tom Bayliss’s free kick was well dealt with, and Wickens made a save from Harvey White that squirmed through from distance.
In terms of set pieces, this was the first game where I felt we met a match. Matt Phillips could have scored direct from a corner when Bradley got the wrong side, and Goode headed over as well. They’re a good side aerially, and I wonder if that contributed to us not putting as much in ourselves. Early doors, they did really well not giving set pieces away, but we didn’t use the Hamer throw every time we got in position. It’s interesting to see how we apply that tool to different teams, really putting on those who don’t like a ball in the box, but looking to use it sparingly against a side like Stevenage, adept at dealing with them. They won 57% of the aerial duels, so while we weren’t terrible, they did deal with one of our usual threats well.
In truth, the half dribbled by like a slow-running puddle down a hill. Nothing really happened until after the hour mark when we made our changes, and even then, it was never packed with excitement. It was still engrossing, especially watching the other results as well. One of my fellow journalists in the press box was a Luton fan, and he was keen on them getting a result. Plymouth were ahead, then not, then stormed into the lead, and I had an eye on Cardiff, not least at 2-1. When ‘goal’ flashed up I wanted to celebrate, but it was a third for them. With us 2-1 down at the time, I knew we’d have to wait.
I did fear we’d lose the unbeaten run, but cometh the hour, cometh the man. Yet again, it is a sub making the difference, but Rob Street is no ordinary sub. He’s one we turned down a £1m bid for, a player who has flourished this season, and he showed some neat instinct late on. At 2-1 down with six minutes of injury time to play, it felt like
I didn’t think there was a goal coming, and the xG backs me up. Going into the final minute, we had 0.58 xG, they had 0.88. It should have been 0-0, but instead, they led. We both had six shots, three on target, and it did feel like they’d edged the result perhaps more on just having the one chance go in, rather than any form of domination. It would have been a fitting end to the run, I guess, a team doing pretty much what we do, only maybe with a little less polish, grinding out a result.
Of course, why would a goal for us not come from our preferred route, starting with the boot of Wickens. This is an example of why we can’t be football snobs, because our keeper chucks the ball in from his own half to set up the second goal. Saying Stevenage are ‘hoof’ and then trying to say we’re not is wrong. We both go long, we may have different skills and other strings to our bows, but we’re vertical too. Hamer wins first contact, Pattenden heads clear but for the second time all afternoon, he doesn’t head clear enough, and it’s Rob Street again (olé olé) making it 2-2 with a smart finish.
I can’t really complain about a draw. It’s a fair result on shots (seven, four on target for us, six and three for them), and it’s fair in terms of xG (0.8 for us, 0.88 for them). I didn’t want to rate them, I really didn’t, I wanted to sneer, I wanted to be all ‘I’m glad we’re leaving this behind’ and feel smug about our goals scored column, but over 90 minutes, Stevenage proved something to me. They proved they are more than their reputation suggests. They proved they are in the top six on merit, on having a game plan and executing it well. They proved that we’re not the only story that should be told in League One this season, even if perhaps we do it a bit better.
They also proved something else to me, and this didn’t come from a player or member of the coaching staff. In the media suite, there were two ladies signing us in, making tea, and welcoming us, and they said something that felt really grounded. Talking about promotion, the Championship and their reputation, one of them said this. “We know what we are, and as far as we’re concerned, we’re in a good place because we’re at least two seasons away from the National League.”
With one sentence, Stevenage became more aligned with me, and how I have viewed football for maybe a decade, than anyone we’ve swept aside with twice the budget and half the desire.
Now it is off to Doncaster, where we know a point of any sort is enough for us to win the title. Doesn’t football work in mysterious ways? I’ve said it already, but a player with a title-winning medal from Doncaster last season scores a late leveller on the 50th anniversary of us beating Doncaster 5-0 to secure the Fourth Division title, to set up the potential to go to Doncaster on Tuesday night and win League One outright.
Football.
Up the Imps.
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