There are afternoons at Bradford that test a supporter's patience as much as the team's, and for an hour this was one of them. The home side took a shape designed to frustrate, to slow, to ugly-up proceedings, and for most of the first period they succeeded.
But there is a hardness to this Plymouth side that was absent a year ago. the captain has been magnificent as a pivot, shielding a back three that has conceded only once in its last five outings, and when the moment came — a ball into the box, a brush of the arm, referee Halliwell's whistle — Boateng did what Boateng does.
Two-one, three points, and now to Port Vale. We have said it before and we will say it again: beat the leaders at home on Saturday, and this season becomes something we will still be talking about twenty years hence.
When I think of this club, I think of Sam Rice-Oxley — and of the afternoons that made the rest of us care. — The Editor
Of the Championship
From eighth place, a view of the table.
It has been long in the coming. Plymouth sit eighth in League One with 67 points from 44 played — a record that speaks not of luck but of habit. 0 matches remain, and every one of them will be weighed in this column.
This paper has never pretended to the sort of cool that our broadsheet rivals affect. We are supporters first, correspondents second; and we would ask of our readers only that when the whistle sounds on Saturday, you remember what it took to put Pilgrims where they are now.
— The Editor, Stadium