I haven't read much of this thread but I'm assuming it's an exeweb meltdown with many a proverbial lemming hurling themselves off the proverbial cliff. And I'm equally certain the challenged few will be saying 'Goodbye Mr Tisdale' albeit not quite so eloquently. Whilst I may not have the footballing nous of my peers, I thought I'd give my interpretation of the game. Feel free to skip this post if you're so inclined.
I will confess to having the slight handicap of an elderly pc. So what I watched was more akin to a 1920's film but in colour. It was a little difficult to tell one red and white juddering blur from another, whilst the commentary was usually a minute or two ahead of the visuals. [I use the word 'visuals' in it's broadest sense]. Now, with those caveats in place...
I have to say I thought Brentford were a very solid side. [When I say 'Brentford', I mean the blurs that weren't red and white which may also have included the referee and the linesmen]. In the first half they were very much the organised army marching to battle. We, however, were more the scrappy SJP Freedom Fighters nipping at their heels but not really doing much damage. Whilst we didn't fight like Trojans, it could be argued that there was the odd wooden horse on display. That said, I still felt it was unfortunate to reach the half-time truce two nil down. The fault for the goals, it has to be said, was the other side. B*ggers!
Second half I thought we looked a lot brighter. Most of that, I suspect, was due to General Logan coming onto the field of play. He just seemed to galvanise the troops and give them heart. A bit of spirit. Whilst not quite competing with Brentford on an equal footing, the gap had closed considerably. I had hope in my heart. We came so close to scoring the one goal that would have turned the match on it's head. If we had got it early second half then you could sense the opposing troops would have broken a little. There were signs of that towards the end of the first half when thingy whatsit was getting very riled.
But it wasn't to bee [pun intended]. Lady Luck had clearly gone on a date tonight. I'm reluctant to use the old cliche that we 'didn't have the rub of the green' as I'm not quite a 100% on it's meaning. I just get unpleasant images of an immoral encounter with an Argyle supporter. Not a pleasant thought.
The, literal, last minute goal was just a minute - maybe two - too late. If only. Oh, if only.
Tonight we had a reasonable performance against an unexpectedly proficient side. [My current theory is that the travelling Brentford team were abducted and replaced by aliens from an advanced footballing civilisation]. Tis learnt from the first half and adapted. It just wasn't meant to be. Doom and gloom? No, not really. We missed out on another trip to wembley but that was always going to be a bonus.Now we can concentrate more on league advancement. So, we lost a side skirmish. But the war has a long way to go yet ...
I will confess to having the slight handicap of an elderly pc. So what I watched was more akin to a 1920's film but in colour. It was a little difficult to tell one red and white juddering blur from another, whilst the commentary was usually a minute or two ahead of the visuals. [I use the word 'visuals' in it's broadest sense]. Now, with those caveats in place...
I have to say I thought Brentford were a very solid side. [When I say 'Brentford', I mean the blurs that weren't red and white which may also have included the referee and the linesmen]. In the first half they were very much the organised army marching to battle. We, however, were more the scrappy SJP Freedom Fighters nipping at their heels but not really doing much damage. Whilst we didn't fight like Trojans, it could be argued that there was the odd wooden horse on display. That said, I still felt it was unfortunate to reach the half-time truce two nil down. The fault for the goals, it has to be said, was the other side. B*ggers!
Second half I thought we looked a lot brighter. Most of that, I suspect, was due to General Logan coming onto the field of play. He just seemed to galvanise the troops and give them heart. A bit of spirit. Whilst not quite competing with Brentford on an equal footing, the gap had closed considerably. I had hope in my heart. We came so close to scoring the one goal that would have turned the match on it's head. If we had got it early second half then you could sense the opposing troops would have broken a little. There were signs of that towards the end of the first half when thingy whatsit was getting very riled.
But it wasn't to bee [pun intended]. Lady Luck had clearly gone on a date tonight. I'm reluctant to use the old cliche that we 'didn't have the rub of the green' as I'm not quite a 100% on it's meaning. I just get unpleasant images of an immoral encounter with an Argyle supporter. Not a pleasant thought.
The, literal, last minute goal was just a minute - maybe two - too late. If only. Oh, if only.
Tonight we had a reasonable performance against an unexpectedly proficient side. [My current theory is that the travelling Brentford team were abducted and replaced by aliens from an advanced footballing civilisation]. Tis learnt from the first half and adapted. It just wasn't meant to be. Doom and gloom? No, not really. We missed out on another trip to wembley but that was always going to be a bonus.Now we can concentrate more on league advancement. So, we lost a side skirmish. But the war has a long way to go yet ...