onionbagblog

“Enter the Governments Non-Dreamer in Residence, Steve Reed…”

The Co-op Council’s Poster Boy is no friend of #localgov. Especially in Lambeth.

I honestly didn’t give a shit about this game after the disaster away in Braga on Thursday. My usual pre-match preparations of endless Forest podcast listening, and tuning into BBC Radio Nottingham ahead of KO, were AWOL. I had no nerves, no expectations. If the team can’t be bothered, then neither can I.

The team news landed - I think. I didn’t even give it a shifty until 15 minutes before KO. No surprises to see that it was the exact same starting eleven that battled so well for the point at home to Arsenal. It’s no secret that Forest have a core of eleven or twelve players that are trusted, whilst the rest can be written off as a summer transfer window that went very wrong.

With no Luiz even on the bench, it looks like the Bearded One has played his last game in the Garibaldi. I would hesitate to say GOOD. But we haven’t exactly seen the superstar Luiz that was billed back in those optimistic days of September. Any Forest player that gets the City Ground light show as part of the signing announcement tends to flop.

Sir Colin of West Bridgford played out the highlights of the 3-1 reverse fixture under Nuno at the start of the season. The world was a very different place back then. Forest were on course for another generation defining season, whilst the Brentford PE teacher Coach was odds for the Sack Race.

I stuck with the BBC commentary and muted the telly. Sir Colin and Perchy were in stitches when the Only Fools and Horses theme was played out over the Gtech speakers. The last time I checked, the TW8 postcode ain’t in Peckham, Bruv.

Forest started superbly. SHIT THE BED. The control and then volley from Jesus was spectacular. If this has been scored by a Cartel 6 club then it would be a shoe in for Goal of the Season. Who needs new strikers, anyway?

This team is infuriating to watch. From the ‘what the fucking hell was that’ in Braga, and then fantasy football away in bloody Brentford only three days later. Is it Morato time yet?

The second half was always going to be ugly. We had to play Nuno Ball, minus the spring of the attack. Elanga would have run riot through a static Brentford back line.

DEFEND! DEFEND!

DEFEND! DEFEND! DEFEND!

And then my own highlight of the season to date dropped.

OH TAIWO. Give that man a ten year contract. This was the Taiwo of old, bullying the defence and using his muscle to bulldoze his way through to the goal. The final shot was half decent as well.

We all know that the old Taiwo won’t come back, but this could add another £5m to his price tag during the last week of the window. If it’s a sign off for Forest, then what a way to say farewell.

The two goal cushion made for a comfortable final ten minutes or so. It was good to silence Brentford and their crappy Hey Jude celebrations come full time. I’ll take Brentford over Braga, any day.

Long live local journalism

Peter Shilton’s ‘hand of god’ shirt to be sold this year

Harry Hodge should buy it.

Councils lack resources to successfully deliver LTNs amid “culture wars”, study finds

The more I cycle, the militant I become. Chapeau!

“These are special days; occasions we have longed for, but I have this horrible feeling we are going to let them slip away without much of a fight if we aren’t careful. I think it’s why many ended up so dismayed and even angry, because these days on the continent aren’t something we are entitled to expect again anytime soon. Once this adventure is over, we don’t know when we will return.”

What the fucking hell was that, etc.

And so there’s a new Cafe Bleu SIX CD boxset out. Gosh. Outstanding though TSC debut is, I’m not sure that anyone needs six CD’s of Cafe Bleu. Sure, one CD is an early TSC live recording; another is made up of BBC sessions. Actually, I might just fork out…

It has the official Weller endorsement as well. 2026 seems like a good time to reflect on 1984, living under Cold War uncertainty and retreating to music to help get you through it all. Not a lot has changed.

Universal has been drip feeding some of the rarities from the Cafe Bleu deluxe over the past few weeks. It’s been more hit than miss, tbh. This was a pleasant surprise though, a Long Version of Paris Match. It’s very much in demo form, but still captures that essential Cafe Bleu cappuccino vibe.

There’s also been a mix up in the pressing of the vinyl and CD’s. It’s one for the obsessives, but The Whole Point from the album is actually now The Whole Point II, which was originally a b-side from 1985.

That Weller golden run from late ‘83 through to around late ‘85 produced so much richness and variety. You go from late Jam sounds that could still be heard on Speak Like a Child, all the way through to tipping his toe in the water of Transatlantic soul with some of the Our Fave Shop extras.

Much like now tbh, with his prolific run of albums every other summer. Quite a legacy he’s building up.

Kevin Holland’s Pig in Shit book. This was a weird one. I heard a snippet of a news story this week about a Copper called Kevin Holland. Blimey, surely not the Hobby Bobby of SE17 from around two decades ago? I thought he had retired and moved on? It turns out that the name Kevin Holland isn’t unique amongst the Met.

But anyway, it got me thinking about Hobby Bobby. He was a well known - and hugely popular - face around Champion Hill a quarter of a Century ago. We’re talking the days when you could have a conversation with a member of the Rabble whilst you were sitting up in the stand on the other side of the ground.

PC Kev use to stage various events around the Hamlet involving young school kids. It was the very early days of club and community engagement, before it even became a thing.

A Pig in Shit is his memoir of policing the Aylesbury. It was around this exact same time that I was first introduced to the Aylesbury and its many characters through work. In the twenty or so years that I spent working around Walworth, I always felt safer there than I did in the West End.

I’ve had a brief flick through the book. It looks like a real page turner with some interesting local stories. I’m not sure about the dodgy geezer on the front cover though who came to SE17 for one his first photoshoots.

London’s Wonderful Mosaics

Inoffensive, but not for me. I am open minded when it comes to music. I even played some George Michael the other day. But this isn’t part of my world. I recognise that it’s important for others. But sometimes I just want to listen to some dumb rock ‘n’ roll and wave my willy in the air.

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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.

Fairport’s Liege and Lief. I thought I already had this tbh, but nope. The 1,001 Albums list threw this up earlier this week. I’ll have a bit of that, I thought. Fairport is a band that has always been around for me. There is a direct link going all the way back here to the much missed John Shaw and Here Be Dragons in the Fair City. They’re not exactly cutting edge, but they fit like a good pair of slippers. Sandy Denny is stunning on this album.

Sydney is not feeling too well today. But Syd is best when he’s a little bonkers. I’ve always loved Terrapin. The Marc and the Mambas cover is worth a listen. There’s obvious comparisons here with Bowie of the same period. Syd pours his heart out. It’s almost a Pink Floyd Unplugged - which sounds like a very bad trip, but somehow The Madcap pulls it off.

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