Shirley Mush gives his opinion of the Huddersfield game.

Against Walsall on Saturday, Saints thrashed a side who played very poorly. Tonight, Huddersfield played well in spells and were, in many ways, a credit to their young manager. Yet they were summarily walloped by a Saints team full of power, pace and just a little of the swagger of the '80s.

Huddersfield made their intentions clear early on- they weren't naive enough to think they could beat us by playing open, attacking football and instead decided to compete in a classically English manner- with little flair but plenty of aggression and elbow grease, yet they found that Saints possessed a midfield gremlin only to happy to reciprocate in the form of the snarling Dean Hammond, and the first ten minutes resembled the first round of a boxing match, with little to speak of beyond a couple of wayward headers and the pugilists exchanging malevolent glances from behind their gloves.

On sixteen minutes though, the hosts had the lead after Jason Puncheon, who has the build and looks of a cruiserweight, beat his full back and dug out a fine cross for LAMBERT to power a characteristically belligerent header past the keeper.

Kelvin Davis continued his fine run of form shortly afterwards when he turned away Lee Novak's scissor kick, but, without wishing to overdo the boxing metaphor, Saints hit the Yorkshiremen with a sucker-punch. Hammond, pugnacious as ever, kept the ball in play on the right then whipped in a cross worthy of the similarly bow-legged David Beckham and lee Barnard's header looped over Alex Smithies and into the net. Barnard now has the air of a man coming to terms with having fallen hopelessly in love- watching him after he has scored, he seems to inhale deeply before glancing briefly at the sky and offering a silent prayer of thanks. He is a hugely endearing footballer.

Saints had now begun to overwhelm their opponents, and when the third goal came it was almost as if, having scored the first two from crosses, they wanted to demonstrate their flair. Barnard, still looking like an ecstasy-addled youth at a Stone Roses concert, did a passable impression of the much-lamented David Connolly in feeding Puncheon, who cut inside from the right, teased the Huddersfield defence like a flirtatious barmaid, then broke their hearts with a clinical finish with his left instep.

There was still ample time before the interval and Saints came close to extended their advantage through a trademark 35 yard free kick from Lambert, the Fazakerley Batistuta, and again when Lallana couldn't convert after Smithies failed to hold Barnard's dipping volley.

Huddersfield refused to give up and indeed their attitude was probably the only downside to the night from a Saints perspective- this side don't lie down. They emerged re-energised, possibly after barely coherent drilling from their Geordie gaffer Lee Clarke, yet they seemed unsure of how best to approach the task of getting back into the game, so unyielding were Radhi Jaïdi and José Fonte at the centre of the Saints defence.

Having comfortably survived Huddersfield's slightly muddled attacks, Saints put a fourth notched on the bedpost. Hammond proved he is more than just a Rottweiler with a glancing header from Puncheon's corner. He also earned a belated show of appreciation from the home fans- limited though he may be by comparison with players like Lallana or Morgan Schneiderlin, Saints simply do not look the same team without their captain.

It was then left to Papa Waigo N'Diaye, as delightfully unpredictable as ever, to round off the scoring, running onto Lambert's lobbed pass, and finishing in style. Even then Saints could easily have had more as Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain failed to convert Lallana's cross (at least no one realised his dad played for Pompey) and Puncheon and Lallana contrived to spurn the chance to finish a fine move with a sixth.

A word on the Huddersfield travelling support. Never before in nearly twenty five years of watching Saints have I been approached by a blazing drunk group of fans who have then told me what a wonderful team we have and congratulated us on having thrashed them. These same benign loons could then be found singing songs with the Saints supporters in various local pubs. I know it's easy to be magnanimous in victory, but Huddersfield, I salute you.

Photo: Action Images

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