onionbagblog

“This is difficult to explain and justify to those unfamiliar with what a Taiwo Awoniyi is. But trust us on this. Taiwo goals mean more. There is no equation, algorithm, or numbers to prove this: it just is.”

via the always excellent David Marples

There’s a fresh energy to this album, mixed in with an innocence and a sense of fragility. Bollocks. That sounds wanky. How a bloody good mix of electronic music that actually has a soul to it? I could imagine myself dancing to this naked at an end of the Century rave on an iceberg. Now there’s an image. Lovely music.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

#lolspurs away, pyrotechnics for the home team’s arrival - what’s wrong with players driving themselves to the ground? - and both teams still in deep, deep shit. I didn’t buy into the pre-match narrative of win - stay up, lose and the Championship awaits. But still.

The game kicked off as though it was a local derby. Christ, that was intense. Just imagine what Captain Chaos Taiwo could do in such situations. I don’t want to talk about relegation, but what a weapon T would be in the division below.

Spurs are a nasty, petulant bunch of whingeing pros. Their game tactics seemed to be to play for a penalty each time they entered the opposition’s box. It was embarrassing. They deserve to be relegated, along with their Fancy Dan supporters.

First blood went to Forest. Jesus Christ etc. It was a fantastic header from Igor. Vitor mentioned in his post-match BBC interview that they had been working on this since arriving back from Denmark. Jesus may have a crappy goal celebration, but I’d like to see it a lot more of this during the run in.

The #lolspurs crowd started to turn early in the second half. The Forest fans were as fantastic as ever - especially after MGW fired home a second. The hand in the ears celebration is always classy. At the end of the day, we always win, etc.

Oh hang on - here comes Captain Chaos. Taiwo couldn’t, could he? Bloody hell. He somehow got on the end of Neco’s cross and managed to bundle the ball home. His goals are either Goal of the Season contenders, or hit and hope. I’ll take anything right now.

SHOUT OUT to Sels in the middle of our goal. He clearly wanted a clean sheet, even with a 3-0 lead and only minutes remaining. Even a solitary goal would have given Spurs a little extra boost at home as we head into the run in.

And so Forest can’t score goals, right? Erm… With Chris Wood sniffing around after the international break, we might just pull this one off again.

Sacked in the morning, etc.

And yep - I never have forgiven Spurs for the 1991 FA Cup Final.

Another spring Sunday morning, another roll out on the Raleigh electric. There was a bright sun to burn off the overnight Estuary Wilds frost, plus I had some extra energy to release ahead of Forest’s big game away at Spurs later in the afternoon.

It didn’t take long for me to warm up. It wasn’t exactly short sleeves weather, but we’re not far off. You know that you’re entering the cycling season when you pass more and more riders each weekend. SHOUT OUT to the Sunny Colch Cycle UK crowd who I passed just outside of Little Bentley.

My route remains limited - for now. The lane that opens up possibilities of heading over to Lawford, Dedham and beyond remains closed. The bloody Garden Village is going to shit all over this landscape, as well as my own cycling options.

But on Sunday morning, with blue sky, a beautiful Raleigh ride and dry roads, I came up smiling.

The penultimate home court game for the Rebs this season. A strong performance was needed if a push for the play-offs remained realistic. The Essex Sports Arena was lively - especially the army of young ankle biters sitting next to me.

Rebs were short benched, in what looked like a series of badly timed injuries. Mile Brown in particular was a major loss for the home team. Rockets meanwhile were… physical.

This was a bruiser of an away team. But they also had the pace to match the muscle. They moved the ball around the court at speed, with some killer passes from one end of the Arena to the other.

The Rebs MC tried his best to keep the momentum flowing off the court. This led to a ticking off from the referee, after some slightly less than polite applause ahead of a Rockets shot from the free throw line.

Tony Idiata-Mendez had the final say at the end of the first, with a fantastic dunk ahead of the buzzer. SWING that hoop fella. Rebs trailed 25-17.

Rockets pulled away, right from the start of the second quarter. They were lethal on the free throw line. Every shot was sunk. They stretched their lead to 52-38 at HT.

This soon became a tough night on home court for the Rebs. The lead stretched to 76-54 at the end of the third. Buckets rained in for Birmingham. Everything seemed to sink.

The body language dipped a little for the Rebs in the final quarter. There was no way back chasing 20 or so points, and the clock counting down. A difficult night at Our House.

“I don’t follow Forest for the logic of it, I follow them for the magic of it.”

via Forza

“If you have a head for heights, then a job as a crane operator must provide some fascinating views of both construction sites and the wider area, although I would not fancy the climb up the ladders within the central frame to reach the cabin.”

The Garden at 120

THIRTY years to the day since Forest last exited a European competition at the hands of Bayern Munich in the UEFA Cup quarter-final, and we’re back on the big stage. Make the most of what you’ve got. I doubt if I will be around in 2056, should we be given this opportunity once again.

The task in hand was tough: overcome a 1-0 home deficit by a bastard of a team that has already bullied us TWICE at the World Famous this season. Factor in that Forest are balls deep in a PL relegation scrap, and you can see why I didn’t hold out much hope.

I was shit scared when the starting line up was announced. Oh, I see. We’re sacking off Europe, then. This was understandable. I’d gladly swap three points away at #lolspurs on Sunday, if it meant saying farewell to Europe. But still - a midweek European fixture, under the lights, Two Stars on the Badge, etc.

A strong ref was needed. The Slovakian fella from last week seemed to be reffing by guesswork. Midtjylland are absolute beasts. We needed the calls to go in our favour if Forest weren’t to be battered away on the road once again. Thankfully German referee Felix Zwayer was up to the job.

The first half was fantastic. Forest could easily have been 5-0 up - quite something for a team that can’t score goals this season. But we weren’t 5-0 up at HT, showing that yep, we can’t score goals… I was a little alarmed at the ease in which the Midtjylland wide player was able to skip past Bakwa.

And then finally a goal! Dominguez’s superb header was one for the away fans. Christ, they have suffered on their travels throughout the season. The scores on the Danish doors at HT was all square, with three quarters of the two-legged tie having been played.

Time for Heroes; time for Ryan Yates.

Forest seem to have finally landed on the European League dream team of a squad. We were told at the start of the season that we would have two teams - one to challenge in the PL, and the other that would provide capable back up in Europe. It’s only taken seven months to reach this point.

Come back Edu? Erm, no ta.

Cometh the hour, cometh the Captain. GO ON, Yatesy, have a swing.

SHIT THE BED. Where the chuff did that one come from? On his left foot as well. Le Tissier would have been proud of such a strike.

Now what?

Defend! Defend!

DEFEND! DEFEND! DEFEND!

It was also time for the Big Dawgs to make an appearance and shore up the scoreline. But this somehow changed the whole pace of the game. Midtjylland found it easier to play against our A team than the stiffs.

The inevitable home goal happened. Extra time was needed. Arse. This is exactly what Forest didn’t want with #lolspurs coming up. It would be SO Forest to play the extra 30 minutes, go to pens, and then… lose.

And so here we go. A penalty shoot out to see if Forest can make it the quarter finals of a major European competition. We’ve come a long way since the toxic days of Chris Houghton and being bottom of the Championship.

MGW was magnificent. He even managed to channel a bit of Psycho with the celebrations. Midtjylland were bloody awful. The magic post helped Forest out big time. The third swing and a miss channeled poor old Chris Waddle.

Bloody hell. We’re through. I wasn’t expecting that. We’ve finally got one over on Midtjylland. That seemed unlikely back in those dark, dark days of Ange the Clown.

What a campaign!

We couldn’t, could we?

I hope anybody’s not stupid enough to write us off, etc.

Indie schmindie miserablists.

⭐

Away tickets for Premier League to stay capped at £30 for two more seasons

via Morning Star

Greenwich Labour councillors sit up late to restrict public scrutiny

Democracy in Greenwich

This was a decent find - Alphonsus Idigo and Search. It’s slice of Nigerian reggae pop from 1987. It’s not going to change the world, but it most welcome and uplifting during these current times. I often felt like I needed cheering up back in 1987, but nowhere with the same sense of impending world doom and dread that I experience whenever I turn on the news these days. Forty odd years ago and it was on / off relationships that had me in search of music to make me smile. I don’t now anything about Alphonsus Idigo; I don’t feel I need to. It’s a happy go lucky short burst of reggae pop. It has me foot shuffling and giving me a bit of boost when times are flagging.