Doomed

I spent Saturday evening watching Villa’s winning streak of one solitary game come to an end as we drew with Leicester. The last time we won two games in succession Tommy Docherty was still in management. This has been our anus horribilis, twelve points from twenty two games equals definite relegation. Hells bells, we could be playing Walsall in a league match next season, that it should come to this.

It didn’t used to be this way. We won the league in ’81, the European Cup in ’82 and had plenty else going for us; great tradition, iconic ground, big support, even our kit was bostin. Then it went pear shaped. We appointed Billy McNeill as manager in ’85 who rewarded us with immediate relegation and we’ve never truly recovered apart from fleeting League Cup success in ’94 and ’96 and some half decent seasons under Martin O’Neill. We had some good times with Graham Taylor I suppose, he brought us straight back up after McNeill relegated us until England decided he was their man (though it turned out he wasn’t). 

A few seasons under Big Fat Ron were entertaining. He brought bojangles, whitened teeth, an orange permatan and wore a brillo pad upon his head. He also brought entertaining football with lots of goals including a Goal Of The Season winner in Dalian Atkinson’s mazy run and shot in the rain at Wimbledon, made famous by the Villa fan who came on the pitch with his umbrella to protect the scorer as he celebrated.

But that was then, this is now. We’re going down and deservedly so. It’s been coming for years to be frank, we’ve stayed up by the skin of our teeth a few times but finally chickens have come home to roost. You can’t replace average players with poorer ones and expect to get away with it. Our forward line is toothless, midfield powder puff, defence absent without leave and our keeper couldn’t catch a cold.  We’re gone and no mistake, people like me can only gaze at photos like this and remember the good old days…