Going, going… - Report Monday, 20th Feb 2023 00:05 by Clive Whittingham The last rites of Neil Critchley’s brief reign as QPR manager were read at Middlesbrough on Saturday — the performance was an improvement on what had gone before, and that was really rather the point. Birmingham, Norwich, West Brom, Huddersfield, Coventry. Burnley, Cardiff, Luton, Sheff Utd, Fleetwood. Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray. Reading, Swansea, Hull, Huddersfield. Millwall, Sunderland, North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe. The fire was never likely to be extinguished at Middlesbrough, who started laying waste to the Championship at almost the exact moment Queens Park Rangers began curling this seemingly never-ending steamer into the division’s U-bend. Sad thing is, relative to what had gone before, this 3-1 defeat, in which we managed a whole two shots on target, actually represented something of an improvement. That tells you how bad it has been under Neil Critchley, and why he’s now been sent on his way. Middlesbrough scored on 64, 77 and 92 minutes. My contract with Fans Network hints quite strongly that it would be nice for me to at least try and describe these to you so let’s get that chore out of the way to begin with shall we? The first was all about the cross. Dan Barlaser (pronounced Bar Lazer according to the bloke with the microphone, though that sounds more like the venue for a thoroughly mediocre eighth birthday party) was making a first start for the club after a budget £1m January move from Rotherham United, and he wrapped his right foot around an arcing delivery for the ages which Chuba Akpom couldn’t help but head forcefully home from eight yards out — QPR did him the courtesy of abandoning all semblance of marking, just to make doubly sure. Prior to this season 27-year-old Akpom had spent fairly miserable times with eight different football clubs, starting just 81 matches across 11 years along with dozens upon dozens of outings as an ineffective substitute. He went through stints at Arsenal, Brentford, Coventry and Forest without scoring a goal at all before finally bagging a hefty seven in 41 appearances at Hull City. They contributed to the 42 goals he’d managed across the decade, 24 of which were in the Greek Super League (the weather being the only super thing about it). Now, suddenly, 20 goals in 25 games, six in his last five, top scorer in the division. He’s gone from the sort of player QPR might sign (and you’d have been non-plussed if he’d arrived in W12 last summer), to the kind a proper, normal, well-run football club might be interested in. Little more than ten minutes after his first, he had a gift-wrapped chance for a second. Playing Mike Bassett’s four-four-fucking-two against the modern 4-2-3-1 and 4-3-3 set ups is always going to leave you outnumbered through the centre of the park. Picking Tim Iroegbunam and Andre Dozzell in the middle of that set up is always going to leave you outmuscled in the middle — statistically Tim gave the ball away one in every five times he had it, Andre one in four. Not many a football game was won by losing the midfield, and so it proved here. Every silver-lined QPR attack came with the considerable cloud of a Middlesbrough counter — the hosts were able to just sweep down the field through a busted system spreading havoc and panic as they went. This would have brought an opening goal for Riley McGree a minute after half time, but Seny Dieng brilliantly saved his shot onto the inside of the post — a move, it must be pointed out, that started with a QPR corner. When this happened again, 13 minutes from time, Iroegbunam foolishly, naively went to ground in the box and - whether you think there was much contact on McGree or not, whether you believe it was a penalty or a dive - if you abandon your feet and dive in like this in your own area you leave the referee a decision to make. David Webb is not a referee you ideally want to be leaving with a decision to make. Cameron Archer took hold of the ball and stood on the spot, absorbing all of the gamesmanship and attempts to distract and delay by the opponent, and then when it was time for the kick handed the ball to Akpom — see, Illy, that’s what you bloody do — who hit a tame shot straight at Dieng and then netted the rebound when the keeper sportingly patted it back to him for a second swing. The third bore a lot of hallmarks of what had gone before. QPR lost the ball and the battle in midfield, had their offside trap sprung, and were then scattered about like a startled hen party (ooooh wharra we liiiiiiiiiiike?) as Crooks cut back for McGree to control and finish one into the corner himself — a goal richly deserved for his personal performance. And, like I say, overall, this represented something of an improvement. While QPR topped the league in October and have dropped to seventeenth, Middlesbrough have gone exactly the other way. They were 21st when Chris Wilder was sacked on October 3, and are now third in the table. They have won 14 of their 21 league games since then, including all of the last four and eight of the last nine. They are unbeaten in seven at home, winning the last five. They have scored three goals in each of their last three games, and have scored 40 times in the 21 games since Wilder was dismissed — QPR have scored 33 all season and just 17 over that same 21 game period. One win in 17, one win in 11 under Neil Critchley, no wins in ten, no home wins in eight, one away win in ten (five of those lost). QPR have lost 3-0 on four different occasions in the last 12 games, including three at home for the first time in the history of the club. They have scored two goals in their last four games, failed to score in 13 of their 32 Championship games, and scored one goal or fewer in 16 of their last 17 games — the exception was a 2-2 draw at Reading. The R’s have taken nine of the last 51 points available to them. In that time Middlesbrough have taken 37, lifting them from 21 places and closing a 13-point gap on us. That they didn’t light us up like a fucking Roman candle is something of a success story. On a run of four straight victories after an impressive midweek win at Sheff Utd, the team they’re trying to chase down for second, Boro made changes to their side — Dael Fry, Johnny Howson and Marcus Forss all dropped for Paddy McNair, Aaron Ramsey (not that one), and Lazer Quest. There were hints in a tepid first half that Michael Carrick and his side may have taken QPR a little lightly, which I could certainly forgive them for having had the misfortune of watching QPR play recently. Passes from the home team were frequently sloppy and misplaced, finding touch more than team mates, and making Andre Dozzell look good as he affected a number of interceptions. QPR won a number of corners (NB: an attacking set piece caused by getting far enough up the field for an opponent to clear the ball behind his own goal). Osman Kakay, in for Ethan Laird who was one of eight who didn’t fancy the trip (five of them signed by/for Mick Beale in the summer), crossed on eight minutes past Chris Martin for opposite full back Kenneth Paal to stab wide. Ilias Chair dribbled all the way down the opposite flank ten minutes later to the point you thought he had to have overrun it, and right at that moment he cut it back into the near post where Martin almost bundled home. Rangers should have taken the lead (NB: you score a goal before your opponent does) two minutes before the break when first Martin, then Chair, then Jamal Lowe all had the ball at feet in the penalty box, couldn’t get a look at the goal, stayed patient, and eventually teed up Sam Field for what felt like a certain opener only for it to strike a geezer hanging around on the line and deflect wide. Fuck my life. Boro had already had a goal disallowed when Akpom was flagged offside in the process of finishing into the far corner off Archer’s tenth minute through ball, and another piledriver from McGree caught Jimmy Dunne square in the chops en route pour le top corner. They would go on to score three times and win the game. And this was better. This was better. Critchley is not, and was not, the problem here. QPR change managers all the time, and nothing ever really improves, because the manager is not the problem. He will, as managers do, point to the players that were rarely or never available to him. Middlesbrough’s bench was populated by seven boys who’d all be the best player in our team, while ours was a creche. The only time we’ve kept clean sheets this season was when Leon Balogun was interested in playing for us. There was an extensive absentee list here, populated largely by Beale’s Boys who are blatantly, flagrantly, obviously phoning in the rest of the season now daddy has left them, living the footballer lifestyle in West London with all of the money and none of the actual football. Several of them should forever more be talked about in the Bosingwa/Wright-Phillips bracket. I actually quite liked coming away from Fleetwood, and Hull, and hearing a manager articulate what we all know and think — that these players are piss weak, with a rank bad mentality, and don’t want to know - but they clearly haven’t responded to it, or him. He hates them, they hate him and whatever he or we think it’s his job to motivate and improve the players. He took over a team in ninth, lifted them to sixth by winning his first game, and now I think they’re going to be lucky to stay up. Critchley’s bench here might have hinted at a desire for change, if he ever threatened to bring any of them on. Aaron Drewe, Joe Gubbins, Dicks and Boner, and Iraqi international Aoraha Borealis - at this time of the day, at this time of the year, in this part of the country, localised entirely within the Riverside Stadium? Can I see him? No. And that’s another thing: for all his talk of the players having a weak mentality, watching from afar with the rest of the Championship last season and sussing the lack of substance in this group, all Critchley did was try and crowbar a team built to play a back three into a 4-4-2, and then shuffle the same dozen players around various positions week on week. Got angry, called them out, then picked the same blokes the week after. Here his big idea was to sling Albert Adomah on, with the game already lost, as our only sub all afternoon. Adomah fell over a lot — turns out doing keep ups in your conservatory is a bit different to the NFL. Watching us try this same nonsense that hadn’t worked at home to Sunderland, to the tune of 3-0, away at Middlesbrough, was little short of heart-breaking. The manager is ballast at QPR, the problems are far higher up, but playing 4-4-2, with Sam Field right wing, whacking balls at Chris Martin, and then trying to talk up this defeat as marginally better than the previous defeat, is signing your own death warrant. QPR were actually unbeaten in seven against Boro prior to this game, had beaten them at Loftus Road in August leading 3-0 in the first half, and had won on their last three visits to this ground. I stood in the same spot, in the same corner, of this stadium 18 months ago. We listened to the same monotonous beat of the same drum — look, I’m not advocating any sort of dystopian future where we can just go around checking random people’s hard drives on spec, but the sort of person who thinks a fucking drum is something you take to a football match has got to be worth a quick glance over the search history at least — and we faced into the teeth of a red wave exactly like this right from the off. Boro came at us from minute one, could have scored three goals in the first 15 minutes, did take the lead from a questionable penalty, and it didn’t matter. QPR equalised. After a daft first half booking, Moses Odubajo stuck an ill-advised second bad tackle of the game in straight after half time leaving his team to play the whole second half with ten men, and it didn’t matter. QPR took the lead. Dom Ball, having done all the hard work retrieving a worrisome situation deep in the red zone and started to work the ball away, inexplicably passed a square ball straight to Matt Crooks for an equaliser and momentum shifter with a quarter of an hour to play and Rangers tiring. And it did not matter. QPR retook the lead, and could have scored a fourth straight afterwards. The referee added a quarter of an hour to the end of the game, and It. Did. Not. Matter. Rangers saw it through. It was a QPR team with belief and balls, skill and substance, ambition and athleticism. It was a QPR team that coped with adversity, and looked good for a promotion push. We crammed ourselves into this little corner and sang ourselves hoarse, tumbling over the seats in a thronging mass as Chrissy Willock led them a merry dance. We looked streets and streets ahead of them. Now here we are talking up improvements because we only got done 3-1, when actually we’d expected to get ultra-bummed 4-0, and there's barely 18 months between the two moments. “Middlesbrough, Moving Forwards” it says on the sign as you enter via the A19, and we were — or, at least, it felt like we were. Now I think we could do with a signpost with a big fuck off arrow on it to point out which way forwards actually is, so stubborn is our team in its view that the whole aim of the sport is to work the ball back to your pissing goalkeeper from as far up the field as possible. I swear we’re only a game or two away from us just launching our own bastard corners all the way back to Seny Dieng and doing away with the rigmarole of actually passing it about a couple of times first. Much like our last trip to the North East, where a 2-0 deficit and lousy performance at Sunderland was transformed into a moment of club history by two remarkable late goals, there was almost a glorious reward for the 483 who are still bothering to put themselves through all this. Boro goalkeeper Zack Steffen had been behaving like a man with QPR on his coupon for most of the afternoon. At one point, standing five yards outside the box, he passed the ball straight to Dozzell, 15 yards away, who - with Lowe and Martin ahead of him to pass to - shit the bed so comprehensively there was more shit than bed left by the time he’d finished. For a late free kick wide on the right he provocatively decided to station himself in the centre circle, leaving behind only a big flashing neon sign pointing out the vacant net he was ostensibly supposed to be protecting. Ilias Chair’s 45-yarder was beautifully struck and aimed, and at that point halved the deficit. Welcome to Stendhal’s Syndrome — when you are dumbstruck by supreme beauty having spent so long surrounded by the banal. It was a goal entirely out of keeping with the game, team or moment. Two goals direct from free kicks in the same season, Mr Ambassador you’re really spoiling us. Chair deserves better than participating in this drek. Within seconds QPR were attacking down the left side with some skill and intent, patiently but purposefully working an overlap for Kenneth Paal to exploit and cross from. The cross is good, and suddenly there’s Chris Martin, intelligently peeled back off his man to the edge of the six yard box, hauling the ball out of the air with a giant butterfly net, controlling on his thigh for the big swivel and hit volley, which he catches perfectly, and sends the ball scorching towards the roof of the net from point blank range. It’s the stairs goal to end all stairs goal, crashing down the upper tier we would have gone, locked in the warm embrace of 400 others, all tumbling together over the plastic seats, cracking our skulls on the concrete and feasting on the goo within. It’s what we go to school for. What a moment… but for the splendid, diving, last ditch block of some joyless prick. I don’t know who it was, but I’ll bet Brentford have got one of their fucking dossiers on him. We probably released him from our academy, because we couldn’t afford both him and Mide Sho-fucking-dipo. Boro went straight back up the other end and scored their defensively shambolic third. And that’s QPR, especially now, but basically forever. They dangle that carrot in front of you, then turn it round and jam it up your arse fat end first. Make that one win in 18 games, not a tenable position for any manager at any club. Godspeed the next poor bastard who takes this on. Links >>> Ratings and Reports >>> Message Board Match Thread Boro: Steffen 4; Smith 6, McNair 6, Lenihan 6, Giles 7; Barlaser 8 (Mowatt 88, -), Hackney 6 (Bola 90+3, -); Ramsey 7 (Howson 78, 6), Akpom 8, McGree 8; Archer 7 (Crooks 78, 7) Subs not used: Fry, Forss, Roberts Goals: Akpom 64 (assisted Lazer Quest), 77 (rebound off missed penalty), McGree 90+3 (assisted Crooks) Bookings: Akpom 64 (over celebrating — steady down mate, there’ll be another along in a minute or two) QPR: Dieng 6; Kakay 5, Dickie 5, Dunne 6, Paal 6; Field 6, Dozzell 5 (Adomah 69, 5), Iroegbunam 4, Chair 6; Martin 6, Lowe 5 Subs not used: Johansen, Archer, Dicks and Boner, Gubbins, Drewe, Aoraha Borealis, Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grubb, former culture and media secretary Tessa Jowell, Davis Love III etc. Genuine goals, no make up: Chair 90 (assisted Steffen) QPR Star Man — Large Gentleman Before Ilias did his thing, a QPR fan tried to beat his retreat. The Boro support spotted him on his way out, and sang a song to that effect. He wasn’t having it. He wasn’t having it at all. He started to abuse them back, he started to get aggressive, he started to throw a few arms around with some creative insults. He was eight ft down a 20 ft stairwell, and there were several thousand of them separated off by distance, concrete, police and circumstance, but he started to climb that mountain in a blind fury. The angrier he got, the more they cheered. The more they cheered, the more determined he became to surmount the concrete and steel barriers between them. He was going to take them all on. One steward, then two, then three. Then a police officer. And he escalated it, and escalated it, and writhed around, and flung his arms, until eventually he was buried beneath the waves of inevitability and yellow coats. That’s what we need: we’re shit, we know we’re shit; we’re up against it, we know we’re up against it; but we’re not having it, because we’re not having it. Referee — David Webb (Durham) 5 One win in 11 for QPR now with this pedantic arsehole. Don’t shout it too loudly, with a record like that he might end up being the next manager. Attendance — 27,456 (483 QPR) Seek medical help. If you enjoy LoftforWords, please consider supporting the site through a subscription to our Patreon or tip us via our PayPal account loftforwords@yahoo.co.uk. Pictures — Ian Randall Photography The Twitter @loftforwords Ian Randall Photography Please report offensive, libellous or inappropriate posts by using the links provided.
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