WHENEVER you go to the Reebok Stadium you know you are going to be tested. ‘Have you got the stomach for the fight?’ is usually the biggest question.
Rafa Benitez had an early taste of this during his first few weeks in England as we lost 1-0.
Despite the fact that Gary Megson is now in charge rather than Sam Allardyce that reversal was probably going through the Spaniard’s mind as we again ventured to Bolton on August 29.
Stomach was also my main concern. I’d been looking forward to this game, now my appetite for football or anything else had been removed thanks to ‘Mario’s brekkie gut-buster’.
I was feeling ill because I was completely stuffed. Hopefully the Reds weren’t about to suffer the same fate.
Early on we were in control and dominating possession.
But, just as I’d felt eating 10 sausages, 10 eggs, 10 rashers, 5 black puddings, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms and a pile of toast just larger than Big Sam’s head was initially achievable, appearances can be deceptive.
A full (to bursting point) English might have been our order of the day but on the field it was a Greek we were most interested in.
Debutant Sotirios Kyriagkos was winning every high ball. Meanwhile the contents of my belly felt like they could go airborne at any time.
Suddenly one or two typical Bolton crosses into the area had our defence looking shaky; maybe that’s why I felt a little queasy.
A corner to the back post results in small fry Emiliano Insua being out-jumped by Johan Elmander and Kevin Davies – a man who looks like he’s devoured a hearty meal or two in his time – is there to make it 1-0.
Chatting to Milan fan Mario in his Italian ‘eatery’ earlier had naturally brought back memories of the sweetest success of all; Istanbul.
Now we needed another fight-back. Having already suffered defeats at the hands of Spurs and Villa, anything other than three points would have left us watching Fat Frank Lampard junior and his child trafficking Chavski side move even further ahead at the top of the non-breakfast table.
Thankfully Glen Johnson’s attacking threat is e(gg)xactly what’s required as he slams home a great leveller just before the break.
The pressroom at half-time usually contains hacks devouring sandwiches and today is no different.
For once however I’m not joining in the feast of ham, cheese or egg cress options. Normally I would but I just can’t after the morning’s excesses.
Aldo is naturally tucking in, while at the same time expressing his disbelief at the fact we’re not winning.
“I can’t believe we’re only drawing,” is the non-expletive version of how he sums it up and simultaneously chews.
A glass of water does me before we re-take our seats only to quickly be sickened by the sight of Tamir Cohen slamming the ball beyond a helpless Pepe Reina. It comes after the Reds make a pig’s ear out of defending a long hoof forward.
In the café I had noted that a representative of a builder’s magazine, surely an expert eater, had failed to finish the breakfast in 20 minutes.
Him and his mates from the site would fare better than the Reds at defending set-pieces right now.
During the interval we’d watched Chelsea strolling to a win over Burnley. That victory plus defeat here would leave us nine points off top spot already.
I could imagine reading Sunday’s papers over breakfast – that’s if I ever needed to eat again. The headline writers would have a field day.
Thankfully the spirit of Istanbul is present again and when Sean Davis is dismissed for a second bookable offence we quickly exploit the advantage.
The sending off is obviously not to the liking of the home support who begin booing the ref and all our players.
It doesn’t distract us (Lucas is used to it I suppose) and Stevie’s fine pass allows Dirk to chest the ball to Torres who makes it 2-2.
With over half an hour to go we are surely going to win. But, a bit like that breakfast, Bolton won’t go down without a real struggle.
Stevie strikes the woodwork and we squander plenty of chances before the skipper blasts home a brilliant winner seven minutes from the end.
While our breakfast challenge led to me giving up after 21 minutes thankfully the Reds were, once again, not to be defeated.
Sidenote: Two weeks later my stomach is still not right. Whether it’s our indifferent start to the season or THAT breakfast that’s caused the problem I wouldn’t like to say.
ENDS
As everyone knows there's more than one side to a story. To get the view from the other side of the Bolton breakfast table check out http://tinyurl.com/32yeuhm
Taken from The Kop Monthly Magazine. Available in all good newsagents or at http://tinyurl.com/2unl2ud
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