Your Bristol City correspondent owes me a fiver

Football - tis funny ole' game, innee??

Or so we say in the deep, dark western depths of Cornwall and Devon. Plymouth Argyle's season has been mystifying, exhilarating, depressing, confusing, and historic in so many ways. Saturday afternoon at Ashton Gate will be one of the more well-remembered landmarks of 2007-8, whatever the eventual outcome of Argyle's promotion push.

Rory Fallon - who, in my post-match anger after the horrors of Scunthorpe, I described as a 'lost cause' - scored twice to give the Greens an ultimately unassailable lead over Westcountry rivals Bristol City, as well as our first victory in Turnipland since (ridiculously) 1931. The pasties and cider taste sweet tonight.

The victory almost seemed inevitable, such has been the almost hallucinogenic nature of results in the Championship – particularly for Plymouth Argyle – this season. Argyle’s 2-1 victory over City, with Lee Trundle’s penalty proving but a consolation for the Robins, to earlier away wins over Watford, Charlton, and Sheffield United (the three parachute payment-assisted Premiership failures of last season), as well as play-off challengers Hull. On the other hand, we lost to strugglers Sheffield Wednesday at home and in the aformentioned game at Scunny, were awful at Preston and couldn’t win at bottom club Colchester.

It is difficult to explain this, of course, but I would argue that the major factors are motivation – which have enabled Argyle to secure victories against teams who should supposedly beat them – and underestimation, similar in many ways, which has seen the Pilgrims fall victim to the same phenomenon which has often benefited us.

This has happened to every team in the league, with the most successful sides being those who have ground out results, with a good structure, a settled side and strong tactical operator in the managerial role, augmented by a few flair players. Bristol City and Stoke City closest fit this dynamic, and thus sit top of the pile – because they are, without doubt, the two most effective sides of all, with Watford on a similar level. The difference between the Hornets and their less fancied rivals does not come in the dugout, where Adrian Boothroyd is as determined and shrewd as Gary Johnson or Tony Pulis. If anything it might be in supporter expectations, with the Hertfordshire club’s fans demanding an immediate return to a top flight they have been occasionally familiar with in the past decade. No such historical millstones for the two Cities, whose last dalliances with the wealthy elite were many moons ago. This has kept the pressure of and both teams have blossomed.

West Brom sit fourth when, as any Argyle fan who saw them dismantle the greens at the Hawthorns a few weeks ago will testify, they would be top if pure technique was the sole barometer. But they have a lacklustre manager, Tony Mowbray, who is happy to get well-paid, skilful players knocking the ball around elegantly and feeding a terrifying array of second-level finishers (Kevin Phillips, Roman Bednar, Ishmael Miller, Luke Moore) but seems incapable of building a side with the grit and organisation to dominate the league as they should. If they secure promotion they are probably best equipped of the challengers to survive, because the Premiership is a very different league. But the Baggies’ elevation looks by no means certain – everyone, including myself, tipped them to go up last year, and yet they still failed with a side containing now-England-star Curtis Davies, football league player of the year Jason Koumas, and the lethal Diomansy Kamara. This seasons team went 1-0 up against Ian Holloway’s collapsing Leicester City on Saturday, had Moore sent off, and promptly fell apart, contriving to lose 4-1 and prolong Ollie’s agony by another week. There’s still a fair chance though of, before the month is over, Mafia Mandaric shunting him forcefully towards the exit.

Argyle aren’t a side full of stars, but we have grit in abundance, if intermittently. Paul Sturrock is still sizing up his squad and whatever happens this season I fully expect the next to be less haphazard and more centrally driven by the idea of promotion. Luggy will know what he wants us to do and how to do it – this season he seems understandably less sure, as the players at his disposal are assessed for both ability and character.

Fallon is one of the major protagonists squarely under the microscope, and has not thus far been a fan favourite, with few among the Green Army greeting even his initial signing which much enthusiasm, let alone what has followed. Leigh Moore, correspondent for the Swindon teams on this site (Fallon played for Town), called him a ‘carthorse’ when we signed him, and for large periods it’s been hard to argue. He was good at home to Southampton in January, netting Argyle’s equaliser, yet it is difficult to remember another match which has ended in glory for the big man. Saturday was the New Zealander’s day, though. First was the snatched, eight-yard finish from a ball across the box which shot past Adriano Basso on the stroke of half time. As big a psychological blow as Zoltan Gera’s scrappy goal had been for WBA against Argyle at the Hawthorns, it stunned City, who had been seemingly dominant up until then.

Just before the hour, a corner bewildered a City defence looking lost without Jamie McCombe, and there was the big Kiwi again to bundle the ball home from less than a yard. They all count.

Despite "what a waste of money" Trundle’s rare goal (it was a handball from Jermaine Easter, but it certainly wasn’t a foul by Russell Anderson which led to the free-kick from which the handball occurred) the Greens held on to defy any pundit you would have asked on Saturday morn.

Credit also must go to emergency signing Rab Douglas, amusingly from Leicester, who made a couple of good stops to preserve Argyle’s lead.

The Westcountry derby was the featured game on this morning’s Championship Goals ITV show, which made a nice change from the 20 seconds of coverage we usually enjoy, but it was made clear from the outset that the men in yellow (again, unfortunately) were not what the London-based cameras had travelled so far west to witness. Instead, Bristol’s supposed great resurgence as a football city was the chosen documentation, with a 19,000, capacity crowd (never mind that 2,000 were greens in the away end, with many more, perhaps hundreds, in the away sections) ready to cheer them to the Premiership. Argyle were, as always to the national media, merely a distraction.

Call me paranoid? Just listen to the tone of the ITV commentator, growing increasingly frustrated at City’s inability to break the visitors down. The result was described as a major shock, but anyone who had seen the return fixture at Home Park would not have been unduly surprised. But for a freak Krsitian Timar own goal that day we’d be celebrating a Westcountry double.

As it is, I can’t pretend that any victory this season will be any sweeter, bar perhaps a play-off final victory over the same opponent…if we did do it, it’d be the most publicity-free promotion of all time.

RICH PARTINGTON

From the rubble comes creation

When the final whistle sounded at Home Park on Saturday afternoon, the Plymouth Argyle players, as usual, applauded the home supporters stacked across three sides of the ground. One player, however, appeared to clap a little harder.

Midway through the second half of the preceding 1-1 draw with Southampton, a long ball down the right channel of Argyle’s half was pursued by a Saints player, in yards of space. Like Mr. Benn’s shopkeeper clad in green, suddenly David Norris was there, sliding full length across the zippy, moist surface to crunch the ball out of play.

The ‘Zoo’ corner of the Lyndhurst Stand were not shy in displaying their appreciation. An ensuing chant of "There’s Only One David Norris" was the loudest noise of an atmospheric afternoon in front of a respectable 14600 souls, quite clearly in response to continuing speculation of the Peterborough-born midfielder’s impending departure.

Rumours abound that Norris handed in a transfer request last week, and Paul Sturrock has failed to confirm or deny this, suggesting the player is almost certainly on his way. Saturday’s opponents have been tracking Norris since before the summer, joined by Norwich, Leicester, and Ipswich. The latter, rolling in Marcus Evans's debt-laden millions, seem favourites to nab him, with a £1.8million bid currently on the table and the club representing a base much nearer to Norris’s roots.

The majority of Pilgrim fans have resigned themselves to the loss of this committed and diligent performer, with his notably fervent applause for the Green Army on Saturday strengthening this assertion – it being viewed as something of a goodbye. Tony Capaldi, Akos Buzsaky, Barry Hayles, and Sylvan Ebanks-Blake, the last four first-team players to leave the club, all reacted similarly in their final games. Slowly, the squad which pushed hard for a top six slot this year – and last – under Ian Holloway is being broken up, and you get the sense that this was a strong social as well as footballing group. Greed, ambition, and club decision-making, in varying degrees of concentration, has pulled them away, yet their time at Argyle was clearly a valued one.

For their part, the Argyle fanbase appears to wish Norris little ill in his probable departure. This may come as a surprise, especially since the Southampton clash also featured an updated version of ‘The Syvlan Ebanks-Blake Song’, the now-Wolves striker gleefully exhorted to "fuck off". This bitterness, however, is more to do with the way SEB left – forcing Argyle into a sale at below market value, and refusing even to countenance the idea of a new contract. Norris, it seems, has been more patient, but perhaps that patience is now wearing thin.

He has been a good servant to the Pilgrims since joining from Bolton in 2002, and is generally considered an absolute Argyle legend. As a player, his finishing and control have sometimes let him down, but his energy is unequalled in my years of watching Plymouth, and his commitment has, until recently, rarely been in doubt. Enthusiasm, ebullience, ingenuity – he might never be Premiership-quality in terms of technique, but he could play there on sheer force of personality.

Price-wise, though, Argyle would be fool to accept £1.8m. Norris is worth a fair bit more than that, and with a number of suitors, a bidding war could increase that price by at least 50%. There is also the added inconvenience of the clause which means Norris's former club, Bolton Wanderers, will receive half of any sell-on fee. If a new, promotion-challenging Sturrock team is to be reconstructed from the rubble of Holloway’s side (although of course Norris was Luggy’s signing) the greens will need to splash the cash.

Friday was a good start, with the capture of Steve McLean from Cardiff for a club-record £500,000 fee. The 25-year-old is fits the two most common criteria of a Sturrock signing; he’s Scottish, like the boss, and they worked together at a previous club, Sheffield Wednesday. It was at Hillsborough McLean enjoyed his most successful years thus far, before a short, injury-plagued spell in Wales this season. In addition to several previous problems, this is a minor worry, but McLean’s performance against the Saints was more encouraging. A thoughtful, elegant player, he showed some nice touches, but could have had a crack at goal a couple of times, and may need to build up his strength and match fitness. He will also take a few games to get used to the nuances of his team-mates’ styles and the manager’s tactics, but if he does there is no reason why he cannot prove to be even better than the man he has replaced in the number nine shirt – Ebanks-Blake.

The Southampton match itself fitted the unfortunately typical formula a great deal of home matches in the past eighteen months, including one just over a year ago against the same opponents, which ended in the same scoreline. Argyle start badly, concede early, and proceed to dominate proceedings from then on, with poor finishing meaning they are only able to score once, if at all. The visitors were poor, a shadow of their former Premiership-fixture selves. But Plymouth could not force the win.

On Saturday it was Rory Fallon who at least prevented a greatly unjust defeat, volleying in from Argyle’s most common source of ammunition – the superlative left foot of Peter Halmosi, who almost effortlessly produced a man-of-the-match performance.

Fallon has been much maligned since his arrival a year ago, without really having a sustained opportunity to prove himself. Against the Saints he was excellent, recalling the half-time draw guest, Mickey Evans, in winning so much in the air and proving a constant menace to the visiting defence. Incredibly, Uriah Rennie did not book the Kiwi despite a string of fouls, each knock further unsettling the Southampton centre-halves. A big-man-little-man partnership appears to be Luggy’s preferred attacking blueprint, and if so Fallon has a real chance of establishing himself alongside, probably, either McLean or Jermaine Easter.

Halmosi, meanwhile, remains the absolute jewel in Argyle’s crown. If Norris leaves, it will be a sad day – he is popular and a talented footballer. But if it is a choice between he and the infinitely more talented Hungarian, I have already made my decision. And so, you feel, has Paul Stapleton.

RICH PARTINGTON