Crap Match Report: Braga 1, Forest 0

This was always Nuno’s fixture for me. When the draw was made back in September, Nuno’s eyes lit up when enthusing about Braga in his home country. Little did we know at the time that Nuno was well aware that he was unlikely to be the Forest Coach by the time the jolly to Portugal came around. September now seems like a lifetime ago in Forest world.

The team news dropped. It was more or less what I predicted in my head during my afternoon spa session. Honest. I needed a mind game to keep me awake and not start snoring in public. Savona would give Neco a rest, likewise for Morato with Murillo. This fixture was made for Yates I thought, as I drifted in and out of sleep. Seven hours later and Yates would be sleep walking to a European OG.

I also thought it was time to rehabilitate Luiz and Bakwa. McAtee I wasn’t so sure about. Ndoye was a case of needs must when it comes to how Forest have fucked up with forwards in recent weeks. Still, a half decent team, with the Big Guns on the bench, just in case.

The rain ahead of KO was a bit of a concern. For half an hour or so, Sir Colin of West Bridgford seemed convinced that the match would be called off. He even went as far as explaining that Friday afternoon behind closed doors at a different stadium was the fallback option. With Brentford away only two days later, I started my own rain dance in the kitchen.

Out came the players to have a shifty at the Portuguese rain-sodden pitch. Ooooh - blazers with the badge on. Nice. I’ve not seen Forest wear these since the European Glory Days forty five years ago. I’d pay good money for a dodgy eBay club blazer knock off. I’d never wear it, mind.

I fired up the Forest app just ahead of KO for the BBC Radio Nottingham commentary - you know, the one that I pay for. It sounded like Sir Colin was broadcasting from underneath some of the puddles. I unmuted TNT on the telly. It was a nice surprise to hear Fletch having another Forest European jolly, all in the name of paid employment.

I felt confident for the first fifteen minutes or so. Braga were poor, and offered nothing apart from an interesting architectural ground. Also offering nothing were Bakwa and McAtee. I don’t want to go all Dyche and call out individual players, but we ight as well have been out there with nine men. Of course it didn’t help that Dyche had effectively tarred and brushed them both in public after Wrexham away.

The Forest fans were magnificent throughout. I’ve watched visiting German or Spanish teams on the telly in recent years takeover Premier League grounds with their noise. I could only dream that this would be Forest one day. Sadly the show of support didn’t filter down to the players.

I was amazed to see the Wrexham Two hadn’t been hooked at HT. To be fair, they weren’t the only candidates who could have been pulled. It’s saying something that McAtee’s only contribution in a Forest shirt since arriving in September was to win a dodgy penalty away in Braga.

Don’t do your stupid skippy thing, Morgan. DON’T DO YOUR STUPID SKIPPY THING, MOGAN.

Oh shit. He’s done his stupid skippy thing.

Less than a minute later and we were a goal down with what was an horrendous OG. It had to be the Forest Skipper putting the ball through his own net in Europe. One of our own, etc. 5Live the following morning described it as a “grubby” goal. You get the idea.

This had Sabri at home to Stoke vibes all over it. Forest started the match in pole position, yet without any help from the opposition, they managed to find a non-existent banana skin in which to slip up.

On came the cavalry. They couldn’t help out, either. Anderson, CHO and Sangare weren’t bad, but they didn’t exactly help Forest to find the attacking flair that we know this team is capable of.

This was a disgraceful performance. It’s on par for me with the Boxing Day disaster at home to Doncaster in 2008. We booed them off at HT, we booed them back on again at the start of the second. SHOUT OUT to the drenched Forest fans in Braga that made their feelings heard to the players, as well as live on the telly.

Fletch tried to filter his disappointment. You could tell he was crushed as well. This was a performance that might just tip the Big Fat Greek into thinking about a fourth manager in one season. It sounds bat shit crazy, but the longer Dyche gets to coach these world class players, the worse they get.

Something has to change.

I do miss Nuno.