Watford 1–3 Cardiff City: Apathy reigns as an inglorious day ends in farce
A day that began with new links between disgraced agent Mogi Bayat and Watford, ended with a familiar story as the Hornets collapsed after taking the lead to play out an insipid 3–1 loss at home to Cardiff City in front of an apathetic and half-empty Vicarage Road.
There were bursts of dissent from those in attendance but they were few and far between, never lasting more than a few fleeting moments. In fact, the whole game had a distinctly early-round League Cup tie vibe to it. There wasn’t chanting or singing, just the buzz of chitter-chatter among friends catching up after a summer apart. In fact, the only thing that drew any kind of reaction was the wretched display on the field. The warning signs were there from the moment I sailed into Gade Car Park. Inside the ground, there were spaces only dwarfed by the gaps in the Hornets’ feeble backline.
As Chris Wilder identified in his brutally-honest post-match assessment, this ‘team’ — and we both use the word in the loosest possible sense — has developed an uncanny habit of taking the lead, taking their foot off the gas and letting their opponents back into the game before collapsing entirely. “They sniffed we were weak; mentally, physically and jumped all over it, scored three,” he said. At the time of publishing, that clip of Wilder in conversation with talkSPORT’s Ian Abrahams remains the only tweet from the club since full time last night. That in itself is something, even before you consider its content. Abrahams’ (fair) line of questioning includes asking whether Watford is the ‘impossible job’, as well as Wilder’s admission this is not a good team — remarkable things for an official club channel to publish.
Cardiff City are also a very poor side. Their battle to remain in the Championship indicates as much and for the first 15 minutes, they were totally outplayed at a mild Vic’. Things quickly heated up. The Bluebirds scored with their first chance. They scored with their second chance. Then Watford afforded the enormous Sory Kaba the freedom of the six-yard box to set himself up for, and score, a bicycle kick. All three goals were soft — at best.
That was the cue for one idiot to amble onto the pitch and start berating the players. One can only presume the stewards were caught out by the fact it was the same performative nonsense the players trot out after each humiliation, while his movement and intensity were on a par with those paid tens of thousands a week to do it for a living.
It was the same at Coventry City on Easter Monday. After going 2–0 up while playing some nice stuff, Watford phoned it in from that point on and were lucky to escape with a point. Not least because Hassane Kamara committed a clear foul on Brooke Norton-Cuffy inside the penalty area. A goal ahead against bottom side Wigan Athletic, they were pegged back and could not find a winner. Against another relegation-threatened outfit in Huddersfield Town, they took the lead before blowing it.
If you want to analyse the football, Watford attempted 36 (thirty-six) crosses and, miraculously, completed 10. It’s hard to believe the first digit isn’t a typo but, per Wyscout, that’s the figure. The penalty areas were Cardiff’s domain and the continued insistence on slinging aimless balls into an empty box was mind-boggling. The reluctance of anyone to truly contest those deliveries was pitiful.
It’s hard to win a header when you don’t jump and even harder when your striker is Keinan Davis, a midfielder trapped in a striker’s body. Speaking afterward, Wilder said, “I’ve got centre-forwards trying to come and get it off the back four,” and he could not have hit the nail more firmly on the head. Davis spent most of the game outside of the penalty area and, on the rare occasion a half-chance fell for him, he went into preservation mode. It’s hard to escape the feeling that Heidar Helguson would have thrown everything at some of those loose balls with no regard for his own well-being. Despite being considerably smaller and never having a £15million valuation placed on his head. Fair play to Aston Villa, by the way, that takes some chutzpah for a bloke who’s completed 90 minutes fewer than 15 times in his career.
But this goes well beyond the performance on the pitch. We have grown used to that, regardless of the identity of the head coach or players. As I wrote in my most-recent state-of-the-nation piece, the culture is set at the top — intentionally or otherwise — and ours is rotten. Having witnessed that display, I’m in no doubt the players still mistakenly think they’re too good for this division and can just turn up, do the bare minimum, and win. Somehow ignoring a season’s worth of evidence biting them on the arse. And when the going gets tough… the tough were never in situ to affect change. This group has the collective mental fortitude and resilience of fairground goldfish. And that is doing the goldfish a disservice. The whole lot need to be flushed.
The man — or woman — of the match has to go to whoever was on music duty at Vicarage Road. Much of the booing was drowned out by the PA system being dialled up to 11 as soon as the full-time whistle went. Perhaps the only surprise was Ismaïla Sarr being the only player to attempt a half-hearted lap of the pitch to applaud those who remained to make their feelings known. Ryan Porteous was the only other one who strayed from the safety of the centre circle.
The players will be as relieved as the supporters to know we don’t have to do it again until May 8 and the visit of Stoke City on the final day. It will be interesting to see how many turn up. Will the combination of being the final day, a Bank Holiday, and the sun bring out a decent number? If only to ensure the players and owner know exactly what supporters think of them. However, apathy has well and truly set in and I wouldn’t blame anyone who decided they had better things to do.
On that note, I haven’t renewed the season ticket I share with my dad. I say share, he has been once this season and I’ve used it every other week I can make it. It was a decision I agonised over for some time. It certainly wasn’t easy and it certainly isn’t a case of fairweather fandom. I’ve seen plenty of crap performances down the years — Crystal Palace and Nottingham Forest under Ray Lewington, Scunthorpe United and Barnsley under Aidy Boothroyd, and Yeovil Town under Gianfranco Zola spring to mind. There have doubtless been many, many more.
The fact two of those sides have in the last fortnight been relegated from the Vanarama National League to the North and South divisions is a stark reminder of how quickly things can go wrong through neglect or poor management. It was only nine years ago Watford were getting stuffed 3–0 at home by the Glovers and 15 since Scunny did a number on us at the end of the wretched 2007/08 season. We’ve not tumbled that far and in the grand scheme of my Watford-supporting life, we’re still probably about par for the course. But the outlook is bleak and there is a similar feeling now to the end of the Boothroyd era. A dislikeable team somehow staying in playoff contention when it’s been abundantly clear for weeks if not months they are well off it. There will be a break-up of the team this summer — for better and worse — and a new reality will face us for 2023/24.