Dave’s Ramblings – Pafos

You see, my daughter-in-law’s family are from that part of Cyprus, and my son, after extensive research trips (purely cultural, of course), has pinpointed the exact location where David Luiz hangs out. So this draw represented the holy trinity. Family bonding, a glorious Mediterranean getaway, and the chance to confirm whether Luiz is still rocking the kind of curly hair we all secretly miss and whisper about at night.

 

Alas, the football gods decided to tease me. Cruelly. Halfway was all I was allowed.

 

Instead of a leisurely Mythos (or three), a heroic meze, and sunset vibes, I found myself trotting off to the Bridge like a man who had clearly angered UEFA in a past life. No Cyprus. No beach. No Luiz curls glistening in the sun.

 

So thanks for absolutely nothing, UEFA. I hope you’re happy.

 

In the Champions League this season, Pafos have perfected a specific routine. They sit very deep early on. Archaeologically deep in fact. They then spend at least the first 25/30 minutes doing absolutely nothing except frustrating everyone within a five mile radius, patiently waiting to nick a goal (or two) like footballing pickpockets.

 

It was hardly a tactical mystery. Pafos were always going to park the bus, defend deep, and try to nick one on the break. What was unexpected was the scale of it.

 

The Cypriot side clearly decided they needed extra defensive resources, so they brought Aphrodite’s Rock with them. Solid, immovable, and absolutely a few kilos over the luggage allowance.

 

Apparently EasyJet are still doing the paperwork.

 

Boredom in the stands.

Frustration on the pitch.

Anger in the air.

Some blaming the ref.

Some blaming UEFA.

Liam frustratingly Googling how to break down a low block!

 

Pure chaos. Absolute cinema. 

 

It didn’t help that our passing and movement were so slow the game briefly qualified as a wellness retreat. I’m choosing to believe Liam hasn’t had time to get his message across yet, because if that was the message, we may as well rip out the seats, install beds, and let the stewards wake us when something actually happens.

 

I was all set to write “we’re absolutely useless at corners.” Naturally, the football gods overheard me and we immediately scored from one. Classic.

 

That said, let’s not pretend we’ve cracked the code. 15 corners, 1 goal isn’t exactly set-piece excellence. It’s more like accidentally finding money in an old coat. Nice surprise, but hardly a financial strategy.

 

And yes, it pains me deeply to say this, but look at Arsenal. They’ve turned dead-ball situations into a dark art. Meanwhile, we either float in aimless balloons for the keeper’s warm-up routine or somehow recycle possession all the way back to our own goalkeeper. From a corner. Possession-based football. Very sophisticated. Very controlled. Very… yawn. 💤 

 

In a game that you would reasonably have expected Liam Delap to shine, it was actually Moisés Caicedo who was the attacking threat. More than half of the efforts on target were down to him. 

 

The fact it took us 77 whole minutes to break down the not so mighty Pafos should be framed, mounted, and hung in the museum of footballing shame. Yes, their keeper made some excellent saves, fair play to him.

 

But let’s be honest, when he walked out onto that pitch last night, he was probably expecting a lot more than what he faced. Seven shots on target and a front-row seat to our slow, methodical passing. I’m fairly sure he could’ve brought a book, made a cup of tea, and still had time to set himself for each attempt. If anything, the real surprise is that he even broke a sweat.

 

Still, it could’ve been a lot worse. And yes, I know… three points, be happy, job done. I am happy. Genuinely. Smiling. On the inside.

 

But is it really too greedy to ask for a tiny bit of entertainment? Nothing outrageous. I’m not asking for prime Barcelona. Just… something to suggest this isn’t a 90-minute exercise in patience and deep breathing.

 

My takeaways…

 

We are now four games into the new coach, new ideas, new vision, new and improved project. I keep staring at the pitch, waiting for a clear sign of something different… and so far I’ve got nothing. Not even a subtle hint. 

 

I do understand that playing twice a week makes it hard to implement sweeping changes. That’s fair. So I’ll keep waiting. And hoping. Patiently. Very patiently.

 

In the meantime, and I still can’t quite believe I’m writing this, we’ve somehow stumbled our way into the top 8 of the Champions League. I’m not entirely sure how it happened, so naturally I checked the table. Then refreshed it. Then checked again, just to be safe.

 

But yes. 8th. On goal difference. With one game to go. Football remains a deeply mysterious sport.

 

To remind you, top 8 actually matters because finishing there means two whole midweeks off. A rare luxury that would give Rosenior time to spend more time with the squad, introduce his ideas, and maybe even explain what those ideas are. Revolutionary stuff. It would also save me, and thousands of others, some money!

 

Which brings us neatly to next week. Napoli away. Our old boss Antonio Conte’s team, who also need a win to stay alive in the competition.

 

So yes. An easy stroll. A gentle kick-about. Nothing to worry about whatsoever. 🤔 

 

Before all that, we’ve got a lovely little trip to Crystal Palace on Sunday. A team with absolutely no form, barely enough players to fill a phone box, and a manager who has already mentally left the stadium and is halfway to the car park.

 

Naturally, this makes it a guaranteed nightmare.

 

To top it off, it’s a complete pain in the neck to get to, the stadium looks like it’s been scheduled for demolition since 1997, and the weather forecast says rain, because of course it does.

 

All the ingredients for a perfect afternoon of football based suffering.

 

Oh, and I so nearly forgot. Team changes. There are going to be some. Quite a few, actually. Loads. Obviously. Because when everything is already delicately balanced on the edge of mild disaster, the only sensible thing to do is put the tactical blender on full power and see what comes out.

 

What could possibly go wrong?

 

Win or lose, always blue. 

 

UTC 💙