Rotherham remembers

Rotherham v Portsmouth, Sat jan 20th, New York Stadium, 1-0

The club always chooses one of the first home games of the year to remember the Millers who passed away during the previous twelve months. Their names scroll up the giant scoreboard, which has been coloured black for the occasion, while we all watch and clap. Some of them are names we recognise. Fans who’s names were regulars on social media, a friend of a friend, sometimes even a family member. Ex players and club members are also displayed on there. The week prior to the game we lost two ex players. John McGlashan, who got on the bus to the Auto windscreens cup final at Wembley in 1996 while me and the kids stood clapping and smiling for the look North cameras. He was an usused sub that day and died aged only 50. And Rodney Fern, a club legend in the true sense of the word. (Unlike others I could mention who change clubs at the drop of a hat). He was 69. Rod scored the goal at Carlisle that won us promotion in 1981, the one and only time I went to a match on the beer bus. He also scored the goal at Millmoor against Plymouth that won us the third division title (that’s league one now). At 18 I was supple enough to leap over the fence and storm the pitch at the final whistle, but not nippy enough to share in carrying off any of the players, although Ian did chair Gerry Forrest, and Steve touched Ronnie Moore’s foot. 

The late, great, Rodney Fern

After all the clapping of the scrolling scoreboard, we rubbed our hands and had another minutes clapping for Rod, John, and big Cyril Regis, not a former Miller but a trailblazer for black footballers in the UK.

So after the somber mood for the recently deceased, we turned to matters at hand, and Rotherham remembered something else. We remembered that the current Portsmouth manager, hurriedly making his way to the away dugout, is a former Millers manager. We remembered that he could only stick at the job for five games, during which he amassed one solitary point, before walking away. Indeed, he has now been in charge of more games at the New York Stadium as an opposition than a home manager. Yes, Mr Kenny Jackett was back in town

Kenny, with whom we had no happy times

We never got to the bottom of his rapid departure, although many theories have been mooted. Tony Stewart promised him money that he didn’t get (after 5 games!), he didn’t realise the enormity of the challenge facing him (we were bottom with hardly any points, it was’nt rocket science!), he was expecting the Norwich job to come up (Ian’s theory), he didn’t get on with the club captain at the time who could be a two-faced so and so (my theory), but we may never know. He doesn’t like to talk about it. Ever. Happily, as you recall we beat Portsmouth earlier in the season at Fratton Park, live on TV no less, so we were after doing the double over Mr potato head, as he is affectionately known.

Warne had kept an unchanged side once again, with new signing, and former portsmouth player, Michael Smi ith once again on the bench. Richard Wood, having resisted the lure of the bright lights of chezzie, was interim captain, having taken over from that turncoat. As Will Vaulkes has started a column in the advertiser it doesn’t take a genius to see he is captain in waiting. All the usuals were there, OMOTE having reappeared after his New Year’s Day no show. There was also a very good turn out of away fans, given the distance they have to travel. They had also been on a good run of late.

The first half was pretty even with both teams having chances, Rodek made a couple of smart saves, but half time came with neither team breaking the deadlock. 

The second half was a different story. It was one of the best half’s of football by the Millers this season. We battered them. Twice Jerry Yates cleared off the line, when the Millers were attacking! We had corner after corner but Portsmouth’s defence held firm. Anthony Forde was a man inspired, pinging in pinpoint crosses and corners. Warne threw on Newell and Smi ith. Newell danced through the defence time after time, and Smi ith held the ball up a la Moore, but still that goal wouldn’t come. ‘They are going to nick one in the last minute’ him behind chirped up. That would have been a travesty. The board went up with only three added minutes, ironic as their keeper took three minutes for every goal kick. ‘Mattocks had a good game’ Rob Berry said to Ian. ‘He’s been OK’ Ian replied. High praise indeed. The crowd roared the lads on to one last, great effort. Joe Newell fed Michael Smi ith on the right, he looked up and sent in a perfect ball to the far post where Our Joe* came steaming in to head home. 91st minute. 1-0. There is no feeling quite like a last minute winner.

The chant ‘Kenny, Kenny, what’s the score’ rang out for the last minute before the final whistle went. A thoroughly deserved victory against play-off rivals, and another three points from Kenny Jackett, made it a fantastic day. One all those we remembered earlier would have loved to be a part of. 

Next up, Bradford at home.

Man of the match

Ian - Anthony Forde 

Jackie - Anthony Forde 

Vicky - Anthony Forde

And stage five? Still nowhere near

*MM conundrum