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Preston North End v Oldham Athletic – League One

Deepdale, Preston

Tuesday 25^th October, 19:45 K.O.

It had been 12 years since we last played Preston in a competitive game and my memory isn’t that good. My recollections of visiting Deepdale were, therefore, rather sketchy. The last time I went, I actually went twice in a week as we faced North End in both the league and what must have been the 2^nd round of the FA Cup. I’ve no problem remembering when it was because it was the nearest Saturday to my now wife’s 21^st for one of the games. I remember rushing back to go to her party. I’d never get away with that these days. My main memory of those trips has nothing to do with the football. It was the pre-match entertainment. For some reason Russell Watson had been booked and he performed Nessun Dorma. Booking someone who never missed an opportunity to declare his love of Man United was never a good idea. As he completed the song which had been totally drowned out by abuse from the away end, he approached the Latics fans and gave them the two fingered salute.

Preston are probably the only local team I can think of where we don’t have any real rivalry. For most of the derby games we have a list of songs about our opponents but for some reason that just isn’t there for Preston. In fact, my own experience is of a good comradeship between the two sets of fans. Never was this better shown than in the infamous trip to the Isle of Man in 1997.

This trip contained the ultimate bad omen. Preston were on a 4 game losing streak. One thing all Latics fans have learnt over the years is that we have an uncanny knack of ending runs like that. On the positive side we had a good record this season when it comes to midweek away games. I can’t remember the last season I’d have been able to say that. 

It was a shame that the fixture computer had thrown up this fixture for a Tuesday as it would have been a great trip on a Saturday but at least it was a game which was easy enough to do midweek. I managed to escape from work easy and thought I would be in Preston for half five but unfortunately getting out of Manchester was a ‘mare. It’s not good when you can still see your office 45 minutes after leaving. Once I got moving I was up there in no time though and had parked and reached the ground to buy my ticket by six o’clock.

You would imagine that when they tell you that you need to buy a ticket from the ticket office, you would be able to do so but they were only selling home end tickets and the away ticket office wouldn’t open until half six. So much for my forward planning of buying it pre-pub. This also seemed like a good opportunity to get a photo of the flag outside the ground while it was still quiet. The trouble was that it was too quiet. There was absolutely nobody around to hold it. At this point the team coach arrived and a couple of officials got off (I suspect they were delivering those tickets I was waiting for). I took my opportunity to grab a random someone. I can confirm that he didn’t charge for doing it. Sorry Alan!

On the way to the pub I passed the statue of Tom Finney known as the splash. What a superb gesture to one of football’s true legends.

I’d passed a pub on the way to the ground called The Sumners which I’d read about on OWTB and was supposed to be a decent spot for a pre-match pint. To be fair, it was a lot better than that. It was exactly what a pub near a football ground should be like. Pretty big with plenty of seating and standing areas as well as plenty of room outside if the weather’s good. It also did proper football food; pie and chips, fish and chips, burger and chips. The only downside was that they didn’t have enough bar staff on. Even at quarter past six there were long queues at the bar. I met up with a few Latics fans, some I knew, some I didn’t and they were a great bunch of lads. There was a red amongst them but I won’t hold that against the rest of them. His incredulousness that I didn’t think Denis Irwin was our greatest ever player brought a smile to my face.

The most notable thing about the pub was probably the glass collector. The chap spent the whole time going from table to table collecting the empties but could only carry three or four at a time. Normally you would say that was a pretty poor effort but this guy was probably in his eighties.

As I still hadn’t got my ticket I made my excuses about seven and headed back towards the ground. The temporary ticket office had now set up shop by the away end and I parted with my seventeen quid. That must be just about the cheapest away ticket in League One but at this point I still didn’t know what good value it would turn out to be.

The ground itself had been redeveloped since my last trip and has become an excellent place to watch football. Somehow, it still feels like a traditional ground despite having four pretty new stands. It does not fit into the identikit category of many new grounds. One interesting feature was on the stand to our left which was just a single tier but clearly is able to be easily developed into a double decker should the need arise. At the back of the stand, they have left room for fans to put up their flags and there were plenty who had taken advantage. I don’t know if they are taken for each game or whether they are left there all season. I’m not sure my view on this. In a way it looked impressive but in a way it didn’t look natural.

If you have read a few of these reports, you will be used to the game being glossed over but for once I will make an exception. As usual, this is my recollection of how things went as I haven’t seen any highlights. Please excuse any blatant bias and memory tricks that I’ll blame on the beers.

The atmosphere as kick-off approached was brilliant. I believe that there were about 1,300 Latics’ fans there but it felt like more. We were behind the goal in a stand split between home and away fans and we chose to sit on the back row near to the segregation. We were belting out songs and there was even a rendition of ‘How many pints…’ Well, Mr Gregan will go down in history at both clubs so it was only fitting.

In the early stages I felt that we were clearly the better side. As I’ve already alluded to I was fearing the worst so this was a real turn up for the books. We were passing the ball around and were dominating although it was difficult to see where the goal threat was going to come from with Shefki playing up front on his own. When Preston came forward they clearly were a threat but these attacks were few and far between.

It was poor defending that led to the Preston opener just before the half hour mark. We had an opportunity to clear the ball but instead only got it out as far as the edge of the box allowing a simple strike when it came back in. I couldn’t believe that we were trailing but within five minutes North End had doubled their advantage. Again the defence could have done better but this was a well worked goal with a break down the right leading to a cross into the box and a simple finish.

The fact that we were two down was a travesty but with the lack of a goal threat we’d shown thus far it was surely game over.

As we started to look towards half time we finally showed what we could do and it was that man Kuqi who showed why we look such a better side since we signed him. Poor defending from Preston this time allowed him a one on one chance with the keeper and he fired into the goal. We might have still been behind but suddenly we were right back in it. The away end erupted as we started to sense that it might still b our night. As we celebrated the Preston fans began to mock us. They pointed out that we were still behind and they took great glee in singing “One nil to the PNE”. It was probably during about their tenth line of this chant that Robbie Simpson swung a free kick into the box. James Wesolowski had broken his duck against Wycombe on Saturday and found himself unmarked in front of goal. As he connected with the ball the keeper seemed to go the wrong way and the game was all square. The Preston chant must have really stuck in their throats as we gave it back to them with spades.

It was a shame that the half time whistle came as it did with us in the ascendancy but maybe it was for the best for me personally as my voice was starting to go. Seeing the away end rocking like that as they went off must have been a sight to behold for the players.

The second half was, on the whole, not as good as the first. The atmosphere was still impressive but I think a lot of people had burned themselves out in those five minutes prior to the interval. We were still playing ok but there wasn’t anywhere near as much action on the pitch. The highlight of the early parts of the half was the chanting aimed at a larger than average Preston fan just the other side of the segregation. He was subjected to the usual songs and then some new ones. My favourites were “He’s got a pie in his pocket” and a real ‘say what you see’ chant of “He’s just a fatty in a tracksuit”. Some of these lads should try going on Catchphrase.

It was time for the ref to come into his own. He’d not made himself popular already by booking one of our players cheaply while letting a couple of more serious offences go unpunished when home players were involved. That was nothing compared to what happened next though. An innocuous ball was flung into our area and it seemed that Cisak had an easy job of catching it. When one of the Preston players clattered him allowing the ball to sail over his head and into the net there was a muted cheer from the opposite end and no real celebrations from the players. They all knew what was coming next, only the ref never blew. Instead he ran to the half way line. Surely he hadn’t awarded a goal. Oh yes he had.

In many ways this wasn’t even his biggest howler of the night. An Oldham attack led to a shocking challenge but the ref made the correct decision to allow play to continue as we had an advantage. When the attack finally broke down the ref had no choice but to go back and book the perpetrator. The unedifying sight of a referee wandering round the players trying to work out who’d done it would have been amusing if it wasn’t so sad. He went to ask the linesman who had no idea either. In the end he just blew for the game to restart.

Having already come back from the dead once I’m not sure many people thought we could do it again especially as the nature of the goal seemed to be having a negative effect on the players. With ten minutes to go, though, they picked themselves up and started pushing forward. As previously mentioned, Wesolowski’s goal had only been his second for the club but he had the scent for it now. When the ball fell to him on the edge of the box he hammered it past the keeper and it was all square yet again.

We should really have gone on to win it after that. Preston now looked like a team who’d lost four in a row and were looking down the barrel of number five. We couldn’t quite do it though and had to settle for a point. It was a little disappointing but after the adversity we’d faced it was a good draw and the players certainly looked happy with it as they celebrated in a huddle in front of the travelling army of fans before applauding those who'd made the journey.

What a fantastic night out and I was even home for half ten. Why can’t all away trips be like that (only with a half competent ref)?