View From The Dolan: Back Into The Top Six

03/31/2025 03:11 AM

Ben talks us through a very enjoyable matchday for Reading on Saturday, seeing off Peterborough United 3-1 at the SCL.

Things have never been more uncertain than they are right now, certainly off the pitch anyway. The amount of non/mis-information knocking around is enough to send us all over the edge. What's true? What's false? What's mildly right but has been so distorted it wouldn't look out of place in a Donald Trump press conference?

Depending on who you believe (and want to believe), we might not have a club in a month. Or a week. Or tomorrow. And before we go any further, I'm not making light of a perilous situation. As I said on the pod this week (available where pods live), at the very least, a solution is on the horizon. We really are into the final chapter of this whole sorry saga and whichever way the leaves eventually fall, an end is in sight.

With this week in the history books, it was lovely to focus on some actual soccer ball. The sun was out, I'd had my bacon roll and three-coffee combo (it wasn't three coffees in one go - that would be weird. It was three modestly sized mugs throughout the course of the morning. I'm not one of those people who insists on buying the largest coffee portion they can from a high street merchant, insisting they will drink it all and then end up tipping it away 45 minutes later when it's cold) and was ready to get to Reading's premium sporting venue.

Team-news-wise, the defence was as sad as a fish in a tank (I very firmly believe fish should not be in a tank) and it was risky to say the least. As with any game, if the defence isn't great, you will probably not win the match itself. Of course, it presented opportunities once again to the fringe players, but it did very little for the nerves of an already tetchy fanbase.

I peeked my head around the door of the mega shop to see how many people were taking up the offer of the reduced-price home shirts and was pleased to see the queue was almost out of the door. This was good. It meant dollars in the tills (although the shop is exclusively cashless these days, like the rest of the stadium complex) and plenty of people would be resplendent in replica kit.

The downside of this was that there were at least three blokes outside taking off their current t-shirts, exposing their flesh to innocent passers-by, and putting on their new purchase. Do it in the toilet, maybe?

Shortly after the game kicked off, chaos ensued in the Dolan as a chap was spotted by a steward drinking a sinister potion. From my side of the block, the steward made the international gesture for "drinking beer" as he lifted his hand up to his mouth with cupped fingers as if he was holding a pint glass, and mouthed to his colleague on the other side of the block: "He's got a beer." "Here we go!" I said to myself.

My eyes darted to the chief steward as she reassured him: "It's Red Bull," she replied, silently. The other steward nodded, stood down (not literally) and went back to his post.

I pondered this for longer than I should have: does Red Bull look like beer? They don't sell Red Bull in the concourse, so did he try to get a can in but the stewards outside said he needed a cup for it? What Red Bull was it? How did the other steward know it was Red Bull in the cup and not an outlawed lager? Do the stewards themselves like Red Bull?

As I moved back to the game with my eyes, I realised something: I wanted a beer. Maybe it was a placebo effect, maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the fact we were 1-0 up. Either way, I wanted a continental lager. I'd have to wait, because HuntBall was in full flow and getting rave reviews from at least two people near me who clapped loudly.

As the clock neared the 43rd minute, I strolled down to the barren concourse, placed my order efficiently and with conviction and was rewarded with a beer and a hotdog. Oh and some crisps because my son was there and he wanted crisps.

That came to £13. Is that good? Or is it indicative of a country that has completely lost its way economically? I'm pretty sure the hotdog was at least £5 (which I know, of course. I've eaten far too many this season to not know that. In fact, I think I've probably eaten in the region of 10-13 hotdogs, which, at its peak, would have cost me around £65. That's quite bad isn't it?) and the beer was maybe £6, so the crisps were £2. Is that good?

I don't know. All I know is that we were doing well on the pitch, were in control and, despite the sun shining literally everywhere else in Reading, the temperature up in the Dolan was at least 10 degrees less than everywhere else in the Capital of Berkshire.

We came out of the changing rooms for the second period looking to be in complete command and we were. Another two goals were taken well, the third coming after a massive let-off down the other end with the ref somehow not giving a 12-yard death-kick to the visitors.

The third and final goal for us was probably my favourite: a decent bit of perseverance from newly arrived Jayden Wareham who squared the ball neatly like a 19th century house servant folding a cotton napkin, to Charlie Savage, who slid the ball in with aplomb to send the fans into raptures.

Such was the noise eruption from all four stands that it caused a passing seagull/big white bird to poo. My son found this hilarious, as did at least three fully grown adult men nearby. Listen, birds do that. I have a white car, so I know what they are capable of.

The Posh got what I'd class as a well deserved goal for their troubles and the game ended 3-1, but you know that already. All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable game of association football to send Noel's men up to sixth and push them to 11 games unbeaten, with 43 points being earned at home.

While those off the pitch continue to let the club in its entirety down, the players on it keep rewarding the faith of those who've stuck by them by churning out results and refusing to give up and make excuses.

The game was a joy to watch, certainly one of the best of the season, and it makes the final playoff spot ours to lose currently. If we can somehow finish in the top six, it would cap a quite remarkably resilient season and be a feat that everyone connected with the club would have thoroughly deserved.

With eight games to go, we can but dream.

Until next time.