My Favourite Game: Reading 3 Hull City 1, November 19, 2005

"Enjoy this. Because you'll probably never see anything like it again."

With every year that passes, my dad's words to me during one game in Reading's record-breaking 2005/06 season become more and more accurate.

It is somewhat disheartening knowing, at that time, deep deep down, as a 15-year-old you are likely seeing something that your club will never better. Better than any generation of your family so far has seen and better than any future generations might see. Indeed, that, coupled with all the other baggage that comes with supporting a football club these days, has probably left me with a growing amount of ennui. 

But, much like every night out beginning with the remote and vague but possible of recreating that one perfect piss-up from so many moons ago, it's the hope that keeps you coming back. 

There are so many glorious matches to pick out from that season - the Crystal Palace five-goal thriller, the top-of-the-table victory over a Neil Warnock-led Sheffield United, 13 goals in eight days over Christmas, countless pummellings, and the trio of glories of promotion at Leicester, securing the title at home to Derby and the points record at home to QPR 

But my favourite game is none of these. It isn't even what I would argue was the best performance of the season - the late-January 4-0 eviseration of a decent Norwich side who were barely allowed a forward step, let alone being able to lay a glove. 

No, my favourite is what looks, on-paper, a routine 3-1 win at home to Hull City on November 19. It is the fact it was routine is what makes it do astounding.

As any fan of an average football club knows, disaster is around the corner - dominance only creates foreboding.

But, this game, proved the 05/06 season was different. 

Reading took the lead early through Bobby Convey before Nicky Barmby equalised ten minutes into the second half, completely against the run of play. 

What followed was like a giant being jabbed sharply in the chest. Hull were dotted aside with two goals in a minute (one a glorious Kevin Doyle overhead kick from 16 yards out). It was like a boxer wearing one on their chin, stirring themselves and quickly restoring some order. 

The unbeaten record was stretched to 18 games.

Though strangely we were still a point behind leaders Sheffield United, it was not even the end of November and promotion already felt inevitable. The rest of the season was now something to savour. 

I cannot remember now after which game my dad said the above words to me. But this one feels appropriate. 

As always, it's the hope that gets you

Hope. Hope is what brings you to that stadium match after match after match, often despite your better judgement. Hope is what makes you think your lumbering striker, floundering goalkeeper or error-prone centre back will confound the critics today.

Hope is what gives you the idea that this year is different, this year might be the year your play off duck is broken.

Hope dashed. Hope dashed is what makes you question why you come back to that stadium time and again. Hope dashed is what makes you think why the manager keeps sticking with that lumbering striker, floundering goalkeeper and error-prone centre back.

Hope dashed was Monday.

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What provided the hope this time around was how the team had gone about its business this season – tactical versatility to counter different teams (both Fulham games a case in point), a steely resolve to see out games (note the countless single goal margin wins) and a strong sense of spirit and purpose (see 3-2 away wins at Bristol City and Blackburn).

Time and time again this season (now last season I guess), we saw things a lot of Reading teams couldn’t do, or very rarely did, in the past – play with three at the back, play a proper 4-3-3, see out one goal leads, make comebacks…and also collapse in spectacular fashion away from home.

This gave hope that we had the skillsets to compete and overcome on Monday. We didn’t.

It felt either as if we froze somewhat or more played the occasion rather than the opponent. Or Huddersfield just sussed us out.

Regardless, the nagging feeling is we didn’t play to our potential. That perhaps is another factor of what made it such a galling day.

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It was fitting our best performer was Danny Williams in a season when his value to this team and his quality was finally recognised.

All year, in either a two-man or three-man midfield, the American offered something none of our other midfield options could – a balance between strength, mobility and passing quality. For all of our decent midfielders this year, none could do what Williams consistently did.

In a game where precious few Reading players excelled, Williams was probably our stand-out. In a similar vein to Steve Sidwell in the 06/07 season, Williams has never shirked a challenge this season despite knowing it could be his last with the club.

His devastatingly tearful reaction at the end suggested to me this will be the end of his Reading career – if we had gone up, I think he would have signed a new deal but he is 28 now and has the quality to player in the top tier; it is most likely now or never for him.

If he does move on, he absolutely deserves his chance and not one Reading fan should begrudge him that. He gave everything and more on Monday.

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The most painful of losing a play-off final isn’t the not getting promoted. The ambivalence toward being a part of the bottom-half Premier League football is growing – without wishing to sound like sour grapes, what really is the point of hoping to survive each year with nought much else to look forward to?

If you haven’t experienced the top tier already, that feeling is less prevalent and understandably so – I was very much looking forward to being part of the Premier League circus back in 2006 and I do sincerely hope Huddersfield enjoy it.

But there is an increasing ‘what’s the point to it?’ when you’ve been there, done that, got the overpriced T-shirt.

No, the reason why losing a play-off final aches to the very soul is your team has missed out after 48 matches and nine months of blood, spit, sweat, tears, fears, beers, joys, disappointments, exhilarations and more. 

It hurts all the more so after a penalty shoot out when you haven’t actually lost the game.

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Nothing in your football watching life prepares you for the intensity of penalty shoot-out in a final.

That said, watching Reading fully prepares you to expect to lose a penalty shoot-out in a final. My celebrations for each successful penalty were barely more than a look to the sky – for Al-Habsi’s penalty save, it was nothing than a single fist pump. It just felt as if things could go wrong.

After play-off final losses via being 2-0 up with a penalty, a freak own goal and a comeback thwarted by less than the width of a post, a penalty shoot-out loss felt likely to be added to the roll call.

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It is now three full days on from the final whistle. Only today have I felt anything like normal.

Tuesday was a day of nothing but mental and emotional exhaustion – a drained out hollow shell trying to make it through the day without reading any match reports or opinion pieces, glancing at Twitter and switching the channel over every time you heard the words “£170m match”.

Wednesday was the hangover from this – the mood slightly lifted but the baggage still being dragged along, the disappointment etched still on your face and the engagement with the rest of the human race still not quite fulsome.

The disappointment will probably last a little while yet, especially as the fallout from the result becomes clear – what happens with Stam? How do the new owners fit in? Which players will leave and who will we sign?

However, the talk has already begun of looking to next year’s fixture list, what away days to do, pre-season tours…

That’s the thing with football there is always next year, there is always hope.

A new flavour of promotion push

Tuesday night’s classic come from behind win against Brentford got me thinking about how our successful Championship level teams have worked.

The shape this season is taking is markedly different to any of our other previously successful seasons at this level – successful meaning we won the league or got to the play offs and excluding 94/95 (I was five at the time so am not in a position to comment).

This isn’t the 05/06 season, for obvious reasons, it isn’t 2010/11 where we benefitted from one player being in the form of his life (Shane Long) and it isn’t 08/09 when we convinced and then spectacularly collapsed.

This year is more like the 02/03 and 11/12 seasons where the sum of the parts was the key reason for success (obviously 05/06 had that same factor but the quality of player was far greater).

But in 02/03, we had a system which worked a treat but when Nicky Forster was injured, we  struggled to cope, and the 11/12 season saw us wedded to the Plan A of four-four-fucking-two which, in the season after, showed up the limitations of that side.

We’ve gone through all manner of formational tweaks this season – three, four or five at the back, wing-backs, no strikers, four centre midfielders – which is a significant difference to the 11/12 season and an ability likely to be of use in the Premier League. That said I think most fans still believe the team would struggle next year if we were to be promoted come May.

This is a strange kind of team – its limitations can be seen from the fact we haven’t really dicked anyone this year and we have, in turn, been thoroughly dicked ourselves on occasion. But the team spirit and the tactics (both Stam’s ideas and the team’s embracing of those ideas) alleviate this.

It is arguable this is something Reading fans haven’t experienced before, certainly in my lifetime; a team which shifts and evolves game-to-game and even mid-game rather than having a set system which works and sticking to it.

And this is all down to Stam and Tevreden.

Further, it shouldn’t be forgotten that this has been a revolutionary past year – a dozen new signings, a new manager and a new director of football in the summer, an extra five signings in January and the constant ownership uncertainty between and lingering.

To be keeping pace with the top two at this stage of the season is nothing short of remarkable and to reach the play-offs this year would be a stunning achievement.

These are points needed to secure 6th place in the last ten seasons - 74, 78, 72, 68, 75, 75, 70, 74, 70, 75 – an average of 73.

Put another way, that’s four more wins from our remaining 14 games. To compare, Fulham have to win more than half of their remaining games (8 of 15) to reach the 73 point mark.

But whatever happens from this point on, this season should be marked as a success.

A trip to Dortmund; how perception and self awareness is holding back stadium atmospheres in England

At the start of last month, I followed the now very well-travelled route to Dortmund and a pilgrimage to the Westfalendstadion.
And, lets get it out of the way, yes, it was as awe-inspiring as everyone says; fantastic football, a goosebump-inducing atmosphere (admittedly aided by a 4-1 scoreline), a visually striking stadium, knowledgeable, friendly and generous fans – the complete package really.
But what really struck was how much of what was going on, if it had been taking place in and around an English football stadium, would be castigated as ‘plastic’ by a lot of English football fans:
-Club song played loudly over the speakers so an ‘organic atmosphere cannot be created’? Check.
-Flag-waving on the pitch? Check.
-Stadium announcer? Check.
-Supporters buying overpriced food and drink? Check.
-Every piece of branded tat imaginable (and a BVB version of Cluedo) in the club shop? Check.
But despite these perceived impingements on ‘real’ football culture, the revered BVB atmosphere remains (maybe it really is the right to drink booze in the ground...). It was all about working through a catalogue of songs and waving flags a lot no matter what was going on the pitch. Go 1-0 down? Keep singing. Striker miss a sitter? Restart the song where you left off.
Which I found rather unusual. For me it served to highlight, in an English football ground, the remaining need nearly always for if not an air of violence but certainly an antagonism and schadenfreude towards the ‘other’ (team or referee) to create an atmosphere.
This was particularly highlighted for me on Monday at the Bristol City – Reading game at the impressively refurbished Ashton Gate. Both of Bristol City’s goals were marked by many of their fans giving the big one to those in the away end and, subsequently, Reading’s comeback of three goals in 18 minutes to snatch a win also featured plenty of Vs flicked and wrists waved, though I’d say joy was probably the overriding emotion (as it should be with a last-minute winner).
In England, the noise from away followings is often similar to that of BVB fans in Dortmund; more or less detached to what is happening on the pitch (as away fans are usually the ‘hardcore’, there to make noise and enjoy the day regardless of the result).
It is the atmosphere created by home fans which is, with some honourable exceptions, anodyne, as you might have heard once or twice before. It is the stadiums and fans which have ‘plastic’ elements (Leicester’s happy clappy things, Crystal Palace’s flag culture) which generally are far noisier and atmospheric.
A lot has been said about what English football can learn from the culture of German cousins. Perhaps a precious attitude over who or what is allowed to make an atmosphere is something different to be taken on board.

The Dustbin Lid Challenge (that was its actual name)

Way back in March, before the uncertainty caused by Brexit, Trump and all that, it seemed perfectly OK to try an eating challenge as, unlike now, there was no danger of impending economic doom making food a scarce resource in the UK.
To be clear, I do find eating challenges morally dubious but we’re all hypocrites so pass the bib.
I and a couple of friends opted for a Flaming Grill pub in Reading (to give a venue where the toilet was flooded the title of a restaurant would be a stretch) and took on its Dustbin Lid Challenge.
It appears the Dustbin Lid Challenge is no longer served at Flaming Grill pubs, as far as I can see, so I cannot recall precisely what meat-based cholesterol enhancer was laid out before us. But, from memory, it was:
- a beef patty, chicken breast and a piece of gammon, each weighing some pounds, with various pieces of concessionary salad wrapped up a bun
-a set of beef ribs, presumably belonging to the cow equivalent of The Big Show
- strips of fried chicken
- onion rings
- a double portion of French fries
- a small bowl of disconcertingly cold pulled pork accompanied by cheesy nachos
- corn on the cob
- a portion of baked beans
Now, the fact it came served in a dustbin lid screamed that this was a bad idea. I mean, the only respectable individual to serve a meal on a dustbin lid was probably Top Cat, and he is a) fictional and b) would serve up something distinctly unappetising like a fish skeleton, immediately setting off imagery association issues in one’s head.
Regardless, we got underway. Now, I’ve watched enough Man Vs Food back in the day to know some consumption challenges tactics – leaves the starchy items to the end, choose a light drink to accompany your meal, keep everything moist to help force it down your oesophagus etc.
I promptly ignored all of these theories. Already I had bought  a pint of moderately-priced lager first up for the simple reason my friend had and so male ego was in play and I dived in to the chips first up (I mean, there’s nothing worse cold chips, right?).
And progress was surprisingly smooth – down went the chips, the ribs, the onion rings, the pulled pork with nachos, the corn and the beans within 20 minutes or so and all was well with the world despite knowing our fellow diners were glancing over with feelings of equal part disgust and pity, looks usually reserved for pets that eat their own vomit.
But, looming, always unnerving in the consciousness like that chronic back pain you try to ignore, was the monstrosity of a beef, chicken and gammon burger. The increasingly room-temperature mountain of meat sat on the corner of my dustbin lid.
Steely-eyed, the time came to tackle this unnatural abomination. Break through the wall.
Two mouthfuls of eating this like a conventional burger simply did not work – richness erupted on the taste buds, beyond that which is pleasurable, as three types of meat fought for supremacy. There is a now obvious a reason why you get four-bird roasts and pigs in blankets but not hybrid cow/ pig/ chicken mixtures.
How about taking the deconstructing approach? The way to eat an elephant, after all, is one mouthful at a time.
We were getting somewhere; the chicken’s gone, so has the top half of the bun and the piece of lettuce and tomato slice which was buried in the meat mountain.
Leaving the doorstops of dense beef and gammon, the densest of all the foodstuffs on this offering. Easy. Or, with a brain slowly switching itself off from over-stimulation and a distinctly unhappy set of internal organs in my midriff, perhaps not.
And it came just like that. No mas. White flag raised. Its over.
A distinct self-loathing bubbling – at an inability to finish or to even try it in the first place, who knows. Time to pay the bill and slink off.

The postscript to all this is I barely slept that evening due to meat sweats, didn’t eat for around 36 hours after the effort and my colon was more packed than a London-bound train at 8am. It probably took a couple of hours off my life expectancy too so, at the very least, the whole experience is not a one-night only kind of deal.

A March day in Leicester

If I may start with what I know may seem a controversial view but…football is tribal.
And, to add another controversial conversational starter to the meal that is this stream of consciousness, Leicester City are winning the hearts and souls of millions with their story this season, rightly or wrongly.
Now those two points are thrown out there, I’m going to sew them together.
Like I assume a lot of Reading fans, for me the next four weeks or so are a time of nostalgia, reflection and reminiscence as we approach 10 years on from not only our greatest season ever, but one of the greatest seasons in English football history.
The numbers and their associated records are ingrained forevermore – 106 (points), two (defeats all season), 33 (league games unbeaten), zero (previous promotions to the top flight), 99 (the number of league goals scored, Reading’s equivalent of Bradman’s 99.94 career average in the pursuit of perfection) and one (the number of sex tapes Leroy Lita featured in that season).
Memories flood from that season; James Harper’s 18-yard header against Milwall, Lita’s overhead kick versus Crystal Palace, Glen Little’s one trick beating left backs every game, dominating Wolves for 90 minutes over Christmas, Bobby Convey being chased down the pitch for 75 yards by Andy Hughes before scoring in a 4-0 evisceration of Norwich, Kevin Doyle being Kevin Doyle, Ibrahima Sonko saving a goal bound shot by getting his face in the way at home to Ipswich, 5-0 to win the title at home to Derby, Graeme Murty’s penalty against QPR, John Madejski on a taxi outside Purple Turtle and so many, many more.
But the most important and everlasting memory came on Saturday, 25 March, 2006, at what was then called The Walkers Stadium, Leicester.
A 1-1 draw on a drab day in the Midlands isn’t quite how you can imagine it (your first time never is of course), but the 4,000 or so Reading fans who were there will remember the cycle of faint hope (knowing only a win would guarantee promotion), fainter hope (Iain Hume’s opening goal), resignation (half time when promotion on the day looked doubtful), relief (Doyle’s equaliser), anxiety (when the full time whistle went) and pure joy (when the results came through).
I intend to write more about the day as a whole later in the month but suffice to say, there will never be an experience quite like it.
Tempered within all of this was the welcome given to Reading by Leicester’s fans and the club as a whole.
From their announcer confirming Reading’s promotion with a bawdy shout over the PA system to the club allowing the fans to stay inside the ground and celebrate with the team for at least 90 minutes after the final whistle, it was all a bit unusual but very welcome.
Even allowing Reading fans in the home end to shuffle up to the barriers separating the away fans during the celebrations struck of terrific common sense and empathy.
But the lasting memory is leaving the ground at around 6pm to be greeted by a handful of Leicester fans who wanted to shake your hand and congratulate your team followed up by a similar group of a similar nature at a nearby pub.
What would I do in that situation? Say balls to tribalism and share a moment with a fellow football fan? I am fairly certain I would have buggered off home straight after the full time whistle went, especially seeing as Leicester were having an average season and, if memory serves, the draw that day basically ended their playoff chances.
I was 15 back in the 106-point season and was told to savour every minute of it as Reading will never have it so good ever again, something difficult to comprehend as a teenager. But in the last decade, we haven’t had it as good and I’ve made peace with the fact we won’t ever again.
And a portion of how special that how season was is all that happened immediately after leaving The Walkers Stadium on that soggy March day.
And there is a retained memory which adds another element to me enjoying Leicester’s season this year.

TFI, the FA Cup and ticket prices

Everything that could be written in ten days about football ticket prices has been written in the last ten days and, with that in mind, have some more related content.

There is a more or less universal feeling that football is overpriced – if not ticketing, then all that comes with it; food, drink, replica shirts are all marked up football fans with, conversely, the quality going down (the Carlsberg and Fosters served at football grounds is somehow less appetising than it is normally).

Paradoxically, as a lapsed fan who does not go to many Reading homes games now as they cost too much for me, I feel as if ticket costs at the Madejski aren’t that bad – they’re too expensive for me in the sense there is more now I’d rather spend 25 quid on than watching another season of rudderless mediocrity.

If memory serves, tickets for matches when Reading were in the Premier League were similarly sensibly priced, despite the fact in a 24,000-seater stadium, the club could probably have got away with charging almost as much as they would like.

Furthermore, the young person’s season ticket introduced this year is also a massive step forward – if I had been a year younger, one would certainly now sit in my wallet.

Reading still have the wider football problem of overpriced tat and dubious quality food and drink, but the bottom line is you don’t have to pay for those, it is a choice (unless you have kids I suppose) and if one had to opt between relatively low ticket prices and low-cost extras, the preferred option should be obvious.

And, for non-season ticket holders like myself, the last week of this month allows you to go to three games in a week for £15 – a bloody good deal if ever there was one. £10 for a home FA Cup tie, a home freebie for friends of season ticket holders via a Reading scheme (a curious attempt to re-brand TFI – or The Fan Initiative) and £5 for an away day at Charlton Athletic, courtesy of an initiative run by the South London club.

All cheap, all good PR, everyone’s a winner.

However, the rub is, how many tickets would be sold for a cup tie against West Brom, a Tuesday night home league game against Rotherham and, from Charlton’s point of view, a match against a resolutely mid-table outfit, albeit while in a relegation battle, if tickets were priced normally?

From there, different tactics have to be used to sell tickets as the supply simply will not there – 13,000 for each of Reading’s home games in that week would be a reasonable target one imagines. In a 24,000 capacity ground.

Ergo, extra efforts have to be made to get people into the stadium and this fans vs customers argument works both ways; the cheaper it is, the more likely it will get your custom. Many economics terms sit uneasily in the realm of sport, but supply and demand works to an extent, especially if you’re not a fan of a Premier League regular where the lesser demand means fans who get fleeced will stop going and not come back or be replaced and the accountants are aware of this.

So, if Reading’s three games in a week were a cup tie against Manchester City and two Premier League games against say Newcastle and Aston Villa (two sides also in relegation battles like Rotherham and Charlton), that £15 fee for three games would probably be increased by 500%.

No harsh words should be levelled at clubs which slash ticket prices and run schemes to get more fans in their ground, especially kids, teenagers and people in their early 20s, but the wider context has to be appreciated that would these initiatives be run if most matches so far that season had been played at stadiums 90% sold out?

One suspects not.

Alexandre Gaydamak and Portsmouth vs Anton Zingarvich and Reading

I'm currently reading Jim White's (the writer, not the football transfer maniac with more mobiles than a modern day Pablo Escobar) ambitious 'Premier League; A History in 10 Matches' which explores...well, you can probably guess what the subject matter is.
The eighth match in the book is one Reading fans will never be able to forget as it was one of the most conspicstaging posts in the collapse of our greatest ever team.
It was on Saturday, September 29. Stephen Hunt, Dave Kitson, Shane Long and an OG from a Nicky Shorey short were our scorers. And we still lost.
Yup, it was Portsmouth 7 Reading 4 - a match which presumably still has Alan Hansen waking up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat and needing to turn the bedside table lamp on.
The chapter focuses largely on the largescale financial incompetence at Portsmouth under the ill-fated Harry Redknapp/ Alexandre Gaydamak axis starting in around 2006 and how the club are still paying the price for that to this very day. The Reading angle is largely sketched in (small club inferiority complex yada yada yada), but more on which later.
The overall summarisation being that Portsmouth's demise changed the way the Premier League saw the potential financial implosion of its members - from being something very distant to being a genuine threat (though one which one always got the feeling they were hoping to just keep Portsmouth going until the end of the season and then they would be the Football League's problem).
The chapter ends on a positive with the takeover of Portsmouth by its Supporters' Trust and highlighting the fact that their opponents on that strange September afternoon were a sustainable model they could seek to emulate.
This book was written last year and hindsight is 20/20 of course but given the events of the past year at Reading, it makes such a suggestion seem somewhat laughable. The pace of change in modern football, eh?
The club and Sir John Madejski are praised in the book for the self-sustainable model imposed and more or less achieved (in relative football terms anyway) from 2006 to 2011 - a model which many Reading fans were rightly proud of and perhaps, whisper it, even miss the security of.
While Portsmouth chased the dream and lived so scarily obviously - and obviously scarily - beyond their limited means, Reading cut their cloth (to use the parlance) and lived within their similarly limited means.
However, both ended up being sold on to a young owner with ties to Russia with no real indication given where they had earned their respective wealth with suggestions dubious Daddy was behind each of them respectively.
While Reading - or so it would seem if the latest takeover gets finalised - were saved by the early prudent bookkeeping and owning their stadium and their training ground (making them a much more attractive purchase), Portsmouth were not so lucky and League Two has proved to be the place where enough anvils were thrown out of the hot balloon to allow them to float.
Were it not for Reading's circumstances of owing a modern, income-generating machine of a stadium, the post-Zingaravich world could be looking a lot worse - indeed, genuine fears over administration earlier this summer suggests it may not have been all that far away.
All of which goes back to that 7-4 game nearly seven years ago where two similar-sized clubs met with markedly different immediate pasts, presents and immediate futures but ended up going in the same direction (though to differing extents) further down the line.

Play-offs good, promotion bad. Thoughts ahead of Reading's last game of the season

The journey is more often than not far more enjoyable than the destination. The commute into work, the slow process of getting drunk rather than actually being drunk and watching The Dark Knight Rises are all disappointing testament to this.
Oh, as is promotion to the Premier League, which the comparison with the commute to work is probably most apt.
Flying through on green lights/ tearing apart all-comers? Check.
Dreams of endless possibilities that can be achieved in the day/season to come? Check.
Ultimate disappointment and looking forward to getting home/back to the Championship? Checkity, check, check.
And so we come to the last day of this season with Reading battling to secure a play-off place which a win against Burnley on Saturday will secure.
But is promotion really something we, as fans, would or, perhaps should, want?
In the optimistic aftermath of our last two promotions, Reading fans were rightly hopeful of achieving a modicum of success in the top flight. The glorious 2005/06 season where records were smashed and the 2011/12 campaign where we came from nowhere to win the title both hinted at a long-term plan and a team capable of competing at a higher level.
The promises of the 106 season proved to exceed expectations - albeit for one season - while the 2012/13 Premier League season probably paints a better picture of what we should expect if we were to win the most unexpected of promotions this season.
The feeling throughout the 2011/12 season throughout the superb second half of the campaign was when our opponents were going to find out our limitations and exploit them and this season, our form has been even worse yet somehow we are in the play-off picture.
With all due respect, this squad is not as good as the 2011/12 season let alone the 2005/06 vintage - though possessing the trademark character and strength of will associated with a lot of Reading teams so far this century - so what could we expect in the Premier League next season?
Presumably, with no investment looking likely, weekly batterings, non-existent confidence in the squad and relegation by early April would probably be a fair assessment.
Furthermore, if the club does get promoted and is suddenly far more attractive to an oversea moneybags buyer a) what chance fair and due diligence will be done on them in the rush to get some cash and b) how likely is it to expect funding to be in place for new signings outside of a late August, Crystal Palace-style splurgefest last summer which Tony Pulis has proven to have been completely futile?
Football may well be about the glory, but those who cannot see a long-term plan and decry anyone not wanting promotion immediately to be unambitious are themselves incredibly naive.
I would be delighted with a play-off place and even a play-off final as it can be enjoyed stress-free with no desire for promotion, similar to the Swansea play-off final in 2011 which was nowhere near as heartbreaking as 1995 or 2001, no matter what anyone says.
A few years at Championship level building properly and steadily is no bad thing. The clubs more successful at establishing themselves in the Premier League in recent years - Wigan, Stoke, Swansea - spent a few years in the Championship laying the foundations of becoming a Premier League team.
We've had the chance twice, but failed to take it for one reason or another. This time around, we have a talented crop of youngters coming through which, coupled with Nigel Adkins' track record of blooding young players, bodes well for long-term building with the right leadership from the board.

But that's another issue for another day.

Jimmy Kébé: how will he be remembered?

There are players that split fans' opinions and then there is Jimmy Kébé, the kind of footballer who makes an out-of-date yogurt look like the model of consistency.
In an odd kind of way, the very reason for his popularity with certain sections of the Reading support is the same fodder for his detractors to lob bombs.
To his supporters, Kébé has been our most naturally talented and devastating player for the last half a decade, capable of tearing defences apart and winning games single-handedly.
To his detractors, Kébé has been our most naturally talented and devastating player for the last half a decade, capable of tearing defences apart and winning games single-handedly - just he didn't do it often enough as his talent suggests he should.
Reading's history has been littered with players who have been maddeningly inconsistent despite - or perhaps because of - being blessed with huge natural talent, but the Kébé situation always had another factor to it.
Say what you like about how often the talented likes of Michael Gilkes, Jamie Lambert and John Salako delivered, they didn't shrink from a physical challenge.
Even players unfairly seen as having far more talent than bottle such as John Oster and Seol Ki-Hyeon still played when called upon.
And this is why the Kébé situation has been different as there was always the nagging feeling he only really played when he was 100% physically and mentally and didn't fancy it if he wasn't.
He certainly does not lack for bravery as player - headers against West Brom and Sunderland at home last year attest to that - but the feeling always was that he wasn't prepared to play if he was nursing an injury.
Its the old dilemma of either having a brave, committed footballer or a talented one - not that they are mutually exclusive, just more so the lower down the league ladder you go.
Ultimately, Reading will miss him as he was one of our most talented players we have had in the last six years, but his time has probably gone now.
There is usually only room for one 9/10 in one game 5/10 for the next six kind of player and with Royston Drenthe taking that particular role of maddeningly inconsistent talent, Kébé looked likely to be restricted to less regular football unless Nigel Adkins was feeling particularly confident/reckless.
In essence, going back to the start of this blog, in the same way Kébé's supporters and detractors can point to the same reason for their respective arguments, they can also acknowledge the same memories of him to back their points.
He will be remembered for frighteningly good performances against the likes of Leicester in 2010/11 and Sunderland last season (and pulling up his socks of course).
Whether you choose to remember those performances as stand-outs or frustration they didn't happen more often sums up your view on the man who does what he wants.

Five talking points from Reading 3-3 Watford

1) The striker conundrum

On the face of it, two league goals in two league starts should guarantee you a starting place as a striker in any team, but things never seem to go to their obvious conclusion with Adam Le Fondre and his best role; starter or super sub.
The argument goes that he has neither the physical strength, nor the blinding pace to play the lone man role in a 4-5-1/4-3-3 system as a starter. This ignores the fact he can hold up the ball, link play as well as anyone and is by far an away our best finisher (notwithstanding two golden chances he had yesterday).
Nick Blackman seems more suited to the lone striker role being very mobile, having a good touch to take down long balls and having a Jason Roberts-esque knack of winning free-kicks. However, he has only scored one goal in a Reading shirt and never looked like scoring yesterday.
With Pavel Pogrebnyak our striker best suited to a lone-man role out of favour and Roberts still working his way back to fitness, Le Fondre remains our best bet as first choice striker at this stage and he has every right to feel aggrieved if he doesn't start.

2) Full back worries

An interesting development as come over the summer from Nigel Adkins and that is squad rotation, particularly in the attacking department with all of our wingers or strikers, baring the injured and Pogrebnyak, getting a start in the first three games of the season.
Yesterday saw two strikers (Le Fondre and Blackman), a winger (Jobi McAnuff) and a no. 10 (Royston Drenthe) start in a very loose 4-3-3 formation.
When it worked, especially going forward, it was fantastic to watch, particularly the interplay between Le Fondre and Drenthe, but defensively, it is always looked rickety with our full backs being particularly exposed with no cover in front of them. This was particularly true on the right with Chris Gunter being overmanned on many an occasion with Le Fondre, McAnuff, Drenthe, Blackman and Jem Karacan all taking up residence in the right winger role during the first 60 minutes.
The players are still clearly learning Adkins' system, but the number of times Gunter and Wayne Bridge were up against two or even three attackers with not much in the way of cover must be a particular worry.

3) The calculated long ball

When does a long ball become a hoof? Yesterday, the most obvious feature of our play was the clearance from the full back position up the channels or to Le Fondre or Blackman in the attacking third.
Everytime this happened, the Watford fans would shout "hoof", but this is far from the hoofball we used to see last season under Brian McDermott when players had no confidence and launched the ball in the direction of the opposition corner flag due to fear they might make a mistake.
This was a deliberate ploy to either get one of the front four in behind the Watford defence or use Le Fondre and Blackman's underrated skills as hold-up men to either win the ball and play in an advancing midfielder or to win a free kick.
The problem was, as the second half wore on, Watford got wise to the tactic. They pressurised the full backs so the ball ended up with Alex Pearce or Sean Morrison, neither of whom's passing is their greatest asset, and the long ball became less accurate. Thus, Watford got more possession and gradually overwhelmed us to earn a deserved point.

4) Bridge of quality

Matt Robinson, Nicky Shorey, Chris Armstrong, Ryan Bertrand, Ian Harte. For a decade or more now, we have always had a left-back who has been one of the best in the division we are playing in (last year excluded of course).
However, of all of them, Wayne Bridge may well be the best. He simply exudes quality and experience, defensively and going forward.
On countless occasions yesterday, he did the Shorey circa 2005-7 trick of winning himself a moment's time when he was backed up into a corner, looking up and picking out a pass to a teammate.
He occasionally found himself overmanned due to the constant changing in wingers in front of him (see point 2), but hardly put a foot wrong and was a danger pushing forward.
To to top it all off, he used all of his experience in the last minute to win a free-kick for no apparent reason when he went down in our penalty box with Watford threatening to break through once again.

5) A new Danny

Last year was a strange one for Danny Guthrie; in the eyes of many Reading fans he went from being starter, to primma donna to hopeful saviour to just plain old occasional starter.
What was clear was that Guthrie played best when he was the main man and this is the role Adkins has given him this year as the base and focal point for the starting of our attacks when we are in passing and not long-ball mode.
The centre halves spilt and Guthrie goes back to pick up the ball from the keeper and picks a pass. His game is all about keeping the ball moving and keeping possession which is probably why Adkins thinks so highly of him.
He rarely loses the ball, his long passes are a joy to behold (one in the closing minutes from the left back spot fully 70 yards across pitch to Garath McCleary was gorgeous) and he seems to be playing with confidence shown by his drag back played in his own penalty box to set up a counter attack yesterday.