Watford v Huddersfield Town 24/02/24

It proved to be a difficult afternoon for the players of Watford FC.

Midway through the first half Ben Hamer motioned to the agitated crowd behind his goal. Lowering his hands, palms face down, he implored the spectators to calm down, give the team some space to breathe. Cue howls of derision from the Rookery End.

Against Huddersfield the not so golden boys endured ceaseless barracking from the terraces. Impatience grew as the Hornets endlessly switched the play from one flank to the other in a negative death spiral of tedium.

Interminable passages of play invariably ended with hapless long balls seemingly lumped forward in desperation to stem the jeers emanating from the stands.

Watford’s powder was not so much being kept dry, it was lost completely, buried somewhere beneath a carpark.

Supporters are fickle. Not so long ago Valerian was being lauded for getting the most out of a small and limited squad. Back then Watford apparently had their club back.

Ismael’s team fulfilled the basic check list of non negotiable’s demanded by every fan base. They put in a shift, played for the shirt and were fit enough to wear it.

After Huddersfield, maybe not so much. There was a tangible tension between the football the manager instructed his team to play and the football people in the ground wanted to see.

Seeing the ball continuously sent backwards and sideways infuriated the watching public. Something had to give. Outcome? Vitriol.

This was no torch wielding mob, not yet, but there were enough angry voices to kill the atmosphere, inject a little poison, sour the mood.

In mitigation, Watford were facing a desperate team with a new coach at the helm.

Ismael claimed to know André Breitenreiter well, said that he could anticipate the German’s tactics and knew what to expect. But then, he would say that, wouldn’t he.

Against the Terriers a circumspect Watford at times resembled a blindfolded boxer cautiously feeling out their opponent, wary of where the next punch was coming from.

Only twice at home this season have the hosts been ahead at the half, on both occasions against teams currently dwelling in the Championship’s basement. Games are tight here at Vicarage Road.

That lack of verve to get on to the front foot, the enduring inability to stamp some authority on a game, well it clearly grinds the gears of some. Patience is running thin.