Ugh. A proper away day capitulation right up there with some vintage Norwich horror shows. Unluckily for Ffion Thomas, The Den is right on her doorstep. So she went, just to tell you lot all about her day.
Random star performer
The Millwall fan that conjured up a surprisingly original and amusing chant (and one which consists of more than just the words Millwall, Millwall, Millwall) in ‘He’s got a bird shit on his head’, directed at Mario Vrancic. Sadly, there’s no doubt it was Steve Morison who was the king of the silver foxes here.
Moment of the match
The concession of the third just before half-time, which not only wiped out any hope of the Haartrockner (hairdryer) treatment inspiring a second half comeback, but also, like the two that had preceded it, showcased some truly inept defending. With tedious inevitability, Russell Martin was the Sündenbock (scapegoat), but while he clearly didn't have a good game, Webber’s new defensive recruits were very much more culpable for the first half’s triptych of head-in-hands-worthy failures.
Very little drama in this foregone conclusion of a game, with just the one Norwich booking, when a very out of his depth James Husband resorted to a cynical lunge to halt a break.
Biggest positive to take
Hard to find any, let alone the biggest. The first ten minutes were great, with a rally of chances and corners – and then a double sucker punch from nowhere. At 3-0, the second half was pretty much a free pass to try and muster a response, but it was more of the same, with Millwall inches from adding a couple more. It felt like it would never end, so it’s no wonder most of the away end didn’t need an invitation to head for an early train as the fourth went in.
Almost three quarters of the possession, but no incision – again and again literally running into trouble on the edge of the box, and within seconds the inadequate and lightweight midfield would be completely overrun, either with a simple ball over the top or by pace in numbers. Let alone the preparations of the coaching staff, there’s still plenty of influential senior players who know this league well enough that this stuff shouldn’t be coming as a surprise.
Started off well but for obvious reasons rapidly went downhill, with plenty of infighting, abuse, and some cringeworthily performative gesturing from grown men towards the players at the final whistle. No need for the Millwall fans to bother cranking up anything near an intimidating atmosphere today – for them a relaxing afternoon in the sun, and an ice-cream van outside for afters.
Soft as you like, flaky down the middle, and leaves you feeling cold – no, not a 99 from aforementioned van, but our defence in this game. This was an absolute horror show, as bad as it’s ever been, and with impeccably grim timing ahead of the international break. Birmingham and Burton at home are nice enough fixtures on paper to come back to, but clearly the away form is still a huge issue, and we won’t get anywhere this season without fixing both that and this creaking backline, preferably ASAP. Change the record…