I’ve had quite a busy couple of days thanks to a certain curly-haired midfielder!
Ollie Rathbone’s goal was enough to drive you crazy, and I certainly jumped off the deep end when it went in!
I had just been delighted by Josh Windass’s technical masterclass, an astonishing volley that illustrates perfectly the remarkable technique required to thrive in the Championship.
And that came deep into injury time! It got me excited…but not as excited as what happened 98 seconds later! Rathbone, of all people, provided the emotional hit, in every sense.
It was a glorious strike. A last gasp, crazy, close your eyes and pray, Hail Mary of an effort, executed so well that it was also, somehow, simultaneously the right thing to do.
It exploded off his boot like a rocket and soared inside the left post. The angle from behind him illustrates just how sweet a contact it was, as it seemed to soar mid-flight like a plane taking off.
The keeper was left flailing, helpless and despairing.
Behind the goal, the upper tier was stuffed full of Wrexham fans. They’d only just recovered from their aerobic workout after Windass’ masterclass.
After the artistry came the emotion.
Once more they were going mad, with Rathbone the conductor, roaring his delight as he stood below them.
It’s appropriate that Rathbone was the scorer of such a visceral goal. His style of play is all energy, his bond with the fans unbreakable.
He plays with his heart on his short sleeve, and is regularly compared to Mickey Thomas. That, we all know, is about as serious a compliment as you can get in Wrexham.
When he broke down injured in the summer, it was a massive blow, and not just to our hopes for the upcoming season.
Rathbone, a seasoned Championship performer who had been Doncaster’s one outstanding player two years ago when they got relegated, was an important part of Phil Parkinson’s plan.
His endless, targeted running, his quality on the ball, his ability to drive into the penalty area were all qualities that Parkinson was banking on.
Now he’d picked up a serious ankle injury on the other side of the world and those qualities would have to be found elsewhere.
The blow was also great because of that emotional bond between Rathbone and the fans as well. After all, Rathbone, epitomised that idea of a fan on the pitch, doing what you would want to do, charging through brick walls, running themselves into exhaustion, and then continuing to give.
We all kid ourselves that if we were on that pitch, that was what we would do. In truth, of course, we would do ourselves an injury if we attempted to do half of what Rathbone does!
But the intention is the same. It’s the thoughtfulness that counts when it comes to judging Rathbone’s performance.
His return was greeted with glee. His remarkable late goal, which has become a speciality, against Watford after coming on for his first league appearance of the season was a massive moment.
But this was another level again. Rathbone’s heart and irrepressible desire had come up trumps again.
The goal also embodied an important part of the identity of Phil Parkinson’s sides. This is, as we’ve learned over the last 5 years, a team that refuses to lie down.
Stephen Fletcher tells the story of arriving at Wrexham and sitting on the bench with his new club trailing late on.
A fellow substitute reassured him: “Don’t worry. We win these games!”
Fletcher, an experienced pro, if ever there was one, raised a quizzical eyebrow. His doubt was soon assuaged.
Wrexham did get the late winner and Fletcher began to understand just what a phenomenon he had joined. What a phenomenon Parkinson had built.
Soon, he would be the main instrument of our crazy comeback wins, launching himself off the bench. to become another cult hero for the delirious Wrexham fans.
Rathbone is continuing in that vein: he has come on as a substitute seven times in the last six times, and scored in three of those games. Two were in added time, all of them changed the outcome: two winners and an equaliser.
But back to last Saturday. I got quite excited when that goal went in. My exact words were:
“I love that man! Ollie Rathbone, have my children. Please take them”
Of course. I had to issue a correction on social media. I was wrong to say that.
Wrong because I spoke in the plural. I only have one child, and Ollie is absolutely welcome to him.
I don’t anticipate any problems with social services as Ben is only about 18 months younger than Ollie. The issue will be what Mrs. Rathbone thinks when their new, adult child arrives at the house.
Ben was in the away end and took his forced change of parenthood with good grace.
Soon after the final whistle, I received a message from him:
“So, I hear Ollie Rathbone is my dad now.”
His journey back on the train from London was filled with the sound of my promise to donate Ben to our hero as the Wrexham supporters played back the goal ad nauseum.
It was one of those moments you just wanted to watch over and over again. Fans have told me they’ve watched injury time in full repeatedly. Five minutes of football heaven.
If you aren’t able to think “I was there”, you can still revel in always remembering where you were when it happened. Even if that was shopping on a Saturday afternoon, which, as far as I’m concerned, is a crime punishable by flogging.
My commentary did the rounds on social media. People were hugely amused by just how uncontrolled I was. YouTubers mimicked me, lip syncing along to my shrill squeaks.
And on Monday morning, I’m contracted by a producer from talkSPORT inviting me on that afternoon.
It’s been fun. As I said, at the start, quite busy, but I’ve got no problem with that. If I’m kept busy by this club’s constant capacity to do great things, I’m not going to be complaining anytime soon.
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