Pure Insanity At The Etihad

Saturday 12th November: Premier League: Etihad Stadium: Manchester City vs BRENTFORD!!

There is a certain kind of joy that can make send your soul soaring into euphoric even when the rest of your life brings you to your knees. For me it is found in football when the team I support wins a game that everyone knew they were going to lose badly and does so through a last second winner. It’s even better when their victory is undeniably fully deserved.

Just seven days before this game Brentford had thrown away their first league win on their travels all season with a 96th minute own goal at the City Ground, against bottom of the league Nottingham Forest. Four days ago before it they had struggled to a 1-1 draw against League 2 Gillingham in the League Cup, then succumbed 6-5 on penalties and that was on home turf.

Now they were off to the Etihad stadium to face off against the undisputed kings of English domestic football, who were unbeaten at home since February. They were also playing their 500th game at the stadium. I don’t think there was a single fan making their way to this match that doubted for a second that they would be celebrating their 500th game with a resounding victory.

I certainly had no doubts about it as I made my way across the North-west to the match. In-fact my words to a city fan I met on the way were “just as long as we don’t lose more than 6 or 7-0 I’ll be happy”. With the form we had shown on the road this season, Newcastle putting 5 past us and a managerless Villa 4, I felt that this was not only a realistic result but also one that I would be able to look back and live with.

I thought that Haaland would get a hat-trick and that “it would be stupid to believe that we have any hope of winning this one”. I have never felt more ecstatic to be proven wrong about anything in my life.

The team sheets did little to raise any optimism about the visitor’s chances, we still had Roerslev and Zanka on the right side of our defence and they would be up against Phil Foden. Kevin DeBruyne was also in the City starting 11 and when it was announced that Haaland was also returning to the host’s team my heart sunk.

I need not have worried though as it became clear within seconds of kick-off that this was not the same team that had been blown away by Villa. We were not just here to take the battering City wanted to serve us, we were here to compete. Rico Henry proved this by picking up a Pinnock clearance and going marauding down the left wing, from the edge of his own box to the edge of the City one within the first 5 minutes. With Frank Onyeka dropping back to help Roerslev and Zanka with defensive duties we even managed to stifle Foden and DeBruyne’s crosses at source.

The visitors taking such a combative, positive approach to a match at the Etihad had City rattled, but even so it was a surprise of truly biblical proportions when Brentford actually took the lead just after the quarter hour. From a free-kick just inches from halfway David Raya floated the ball into the box, where Ben Mee leapt highest to nod the ball on for the waiting Toney to loop a header over the helpless Ederson and give the visitors the lead.

With that Brentford took the lead at the Etihad and I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing, I actually had to ask the guy to my right whether I was dreaming. When he confirmed that “no, this is real”, insanity struck me. I was jumping around like a madman and joining in with the spontaneous chants of euphoria around me. From “how shit must you be? we’re winning away” to “Ivan Toney should be on the plane” through “Southgate, Southgate you’re a c***” we went through all the chants we knew and many we didn’t, the wave of euphoria was infectious, and my fears melted away in a sea of happiness.

Of course, despite a gargantuan effort from our whole team to bond together and complete a defensive, backs to the wall job City would equalise before half-time. City’s equaliser would not come easily too them though as the majority of their attacks saw them being forced all the way back to Ederson.

Their equaliser wouldn’t even come from open play as they run out of ideas surprisingly fast when faced with Brentford’s wall of bodies, instead it came from a corner in added time at the end of the 45. The equaliser came from the first defensive lapse all half for the visitors, a DeBruyne outswinging corner from the right was missed by 3 defenders in the centre and bobbled out to Foden. When it reached him it sat up at a gorgeous height for him to rifle home rising over Raya and into the roof of the net.

The emotional hit of going in a 1-1 after leading for so much of the half was negated fully by the fact that we had led in a game where I thought we would be 3-0 behind in the first 20 minutes. Another plus that I took from their late equaliser was that it wouldn’t allow the team to think the job was already done and just rest on their laurels in the second 45. They knew there was still a battle to be won and they would have to come out and win it.

That battle turned into an intense effort not to be ground into the dust in the first 15 minutes of the second half as City came at us like a runaway train. They were determined to punish us for daring to take the game to them at their fortress, but we wouldn’t let them break through our lines. Every time they came forward our stalwart defending forced them back to halfway. Sometimes they would punt a speculative ball forward trying to find Haaland, but unfortunately for the hosts the only place they would find him all game was in Ethan Pinnock’s back pocket. Their efforts to score from outside the box would have fitted perfectly in any of the Rugby League world cup games taking place across the country, but you get nothing for conversions in football.

The second third of the second half was a period when introductions off the Bee’s bench allowed them to re-establish a foothold in the match, turning it from a siege on our goal back into the end-to-end contest for the purists that had been served up in the first half. Christian Norgaard and Yoanne Wissa were those introduced for the visitors and the extra energy was just what was needed to boost the visitors back to their best, with Vitaly Janelt and Bryan Mbuemo sacrificed for the greater good.

Make no mistake, Brentford spent most of the second half hanging on by their fingernails as City threw everything they had at winning this match, but as the match approached it’s final 10 the visitor’s mindset changed from just hold on to let’s win this. I even spoke into my notes that “I’d rather lose going for all 3 points than draw hanging on for 1”.

This mindset even seemed to have made its way to the Bee’s bench with 5 minutes of the regulation 90 left as Thomas Frank reached for the most attacking option left to him and threw Josh DaSilva into the fray in place of Frank Onyeka. Throughout the second half City onslaught I’d been thinking that “if we make it to the final few minutes level let’s throw on DaSilva and see what we can do”, now we were about to find out exactly what that was.

Within the bounds of the regulation 5 it turned out the answer was, not much at all but then the added time board went up. It read 10 minutes. That’s right we now had a further 10 minutes with the fresh legs of both Wissa and DaSilva at our disposal to go for the win. It took till the 8 of those 10 minutes had elapsed before, with everyone in the stadium on tenterhooks, the visitors would get that win.

The moment I will never forget came from a City corner on the left that fell to Wissa on the edge of the Bees box. He set off with the ball at his feet and didn’t stop for anything till he hit a blind alley 20 yards from goal. So he flipped the ball across the pitch to DaSilva who pondered momentarily before dropping his shoulder, beating his marker and advancing into the area. The slide rule ball he produced took the remaining City players out of the equation and laid the ball on a plate for the onrushing Ivan Toney to caress home into the open goal.

Cue pandemonium in the away end as the pent-up hopes and dreams of thousands of travelling fans were unleashed in a single moment. There were those who rushed down to the barrier to celebrate with the match-winner, those who jumped around like madmen possessed and those, such as myself, who were pinned to the spot in pure shock at what they had just witnessed.

Brentford had just scored a last-minute winner to secure their first away win of the season against a team that many considered invincible. It couldn’t be real, but it was…

Once the initial shock wore off, I joined those madmen possessed. I couldn’t tell you what I said or did in the minutes afterwards other than knowing that at one point I was standing on the seat with a foot resting on the safe-standing bar in-front of me. It was like being in a trance, a trance of euphoria for the soul. Time melted away at that point and the ref blew his final whistle but no-one in the away end moved. There was a party to be had and we were going to savour every moment.

I will never know that feeling again, but I will always remember it. On that afternoon football provided me with something I have never felt before in my life, a soul-pumping euphoria that meant I could achieve anything. Fly to the moon without a spacesuit or craft, no problem. Prevent a nuclear warhead from exploding as it hit the ground, easy. That’s where I was at in that moment.

Ivan Toney will deservedly get so much credit for his goals that delivered this historic victory, but his all-round performance was just insane. He was too good for words to describe, and his example inspired his teammates to a result they had no right to achieve. I share the view of many football fans across the country, and every Brentford fan living, that he should be going to the World Cup.

I will expand on my thoughts on the full England World Cup squad in my next blog, but one point that I hope will cause no controversy is that “Ivan Toney should be on the plane”.