It would not be a game that anyone would describe as a classic by any means, however Tuesday's penalty shootout victory over League One Brentford ensured our progress to the area final of the Johnstone's Paint Trophy for the first time in our history and at the same time edging us ever closer to that Wembley dream.
I don't know about you, but the competition's lesser status has no affect on me. The desire to see my team run out at Wembley is burning, and so close to being fulfilled. Just ask fans of Southampton, a huge club in comparison to most clubs entering the competition, whether they were any less excited about seeing their team at the home of football a couple of years back. To think that it could be happening to us is tantalising, and has left me tittering like a stupid little schoolboy at the thought of it all day.
A disappointing crowd was in attendance, with nearly half of the close to 2,000 there shouting for the Red & White Bees. Indeed it didn't take long for their supporters to point out that we do not have many fans, and indeed that our ground is quite small. How original. As per usual, the gramatically confused chant of 'One Bees In London' sounded around the terraces as the away fans were victorious in the vocal battle, decibel wise.
In fairness, their team should have been victorious as well. On another evening they could have had several goals to their name by the time 20 minutes had elapsed. The crossbar at the South end of the ground was troubled and Dean Brill was certainly made to earn his crust throughout the entireity of the evening. He did so very well, making many smart and some outstanding saves to keep Brentford out. It appeared we were trying to emphasise solidity having come a cropper to League One opposition this Saturday past, however the quality at times saw that our goal was troubled significantly more than the one at the other end. By hook, or by crook, we kept them out. Hector was again a rock at the back, ably assisted by Downing and Senda. Borrowdale also did a smart job, replacing Jack Saville who had failed an earlier fitness test.
As mentioned, we offered little going forward in the first half. Izale McLeod cut a lonely figure up top as his job appeared to be to either hold up the long ball, or chase onto the long ball, neither of which were completed with much success as he had no support. The man can't do everything himself you know. Sam Deering was once again very lively in the centre of the park and Clovis Kamdjo continues to be a menace wherever he goes, getting his head in where it hurts and breaking up the play nicely. You've got to love Clovis.
We weathered the storm that Brentford threw at us, and could even have nicked it ourselves late on with our only clear cut chance of the game. A break left us clear on the right with McLeod waiting in the box. Deering's cross found the powering run of Kamdjo whose volley was somehow blocked by a combination of the keeper and the defender on the line. It would have been harsh on Brentford who had been peppering our goal all evening, and had earlier forced a brilliant double save from Brill to add to their many chances. A tense finale followed, but both sides seemed happy to let it drift into penalties.
Our shootout record is not good, but aside from Hughes' opening penalty which somehow squirmed through the grasp of Richard Lee in the Brentford goal, our five penalties were emphatic. Brentford also, aside from one which was blazed into the North Terrace fencing. We held our nerve, Danny Senda placed home the winning penalty to leave the dream of Wembley very much alive and the proclamation that for this evening at least, there was only one Bees in London.
Only Swindon and 180 minutes of football stand between us and Wembley. Goodness me!
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