Quick Takes: Does Anyone Remember What Losing Feels Like?

Brian McDermott Appreciation Player of the Game

Sam Baldock. As the rain poured down in Berkshire, he was a constant threat darting about with runs in behind, not to mention a couple of insane deft touches that drew a chorus of oos and ahs around the Mad Stad. Special mention to Swifty, seemingly relishing in the new deeper role. The True Quarterback of this team.

Key Plays

0-22’ - All Reading. Just all. Over. Them. Already 1871 have rattled the Luton faithful.

22’ GOAL - Morrison rises above to head home from a Swifty corner after a spell of intense Reading pressure.

29’ GOAL - Ejaria waits and waits, looks off the runner, cuts inside on the edge of the box and POW. 1871 rises to their feet... “OVIE EJARRRIA, OVIE EJARRIAA.”

33’ - Baldock breaks through and comes close. Warning signs for Luton.

37’ - Baldock and Puscas link up beautifully with a deft one-two as Sam’s shot hits the side-netting.

78’ GOAL - Back from the dead?! Defender dallying on the ball as GMacca steals it, runs through on goal and slots past the keeper’s right! Signing off a second half that should be a lesson for all in how to play with a two-goal lead.

The ‘Ding 3-0 Luton Town

Other notes

Puscas confidence? George seems to have lost his killer instinct at the moment, with Baldock stealing the spotlight lately - Puscas needs to keep his head up and keep grinding. Positive body language though as he came off in the second half.

Club 1871 fans were loud. Deafeningly loud. The atmosphere at the Mad Stad is officially BACK BABY! Trade in your Tetley’s for an Amstel, scream your lungs out and jump up and down, this place is a party!

I might be over-reacting... but Mark Bowen has turned this club around, and I for one have never been happier to be wrong. Going about his business with zero drama, exuding football intelligence, and making us all believe in the hierarchy of this club again.

International break now (great...). Brentford away next. Get your tickets next Monday, meet me at the bar, and let’s remind West London:

We’re the Berkshire Boys, We Make All The Noise. EVERYWHERE WE GOOOOOO...

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