Wasteful Boro Fail To Bridge Watford Gap

Let's be honest... were you really expecting anything else?

We had approached the Southampton match with trepidation, believing we had no chance. Our dreadful home record and flat display against Doncaster gave us no right to beat the soon-to-be-promoted-anyway visitors. Or so we thought.

But beat them we did, and our play-off hopes remained alive.

But, as has often been the case this season, that game was defined by three not so little words:

To what end?

Southampton knew that all they had to do was beat Coventry at their place to go up, and they rolled them over today without any difficulty. What we needed, merely to get into the top six at all, was much more - a win against Watford away in addition to hoping Cardiff slipped up at Palace.

And you have to admit we were setting ourselves up for a fall before kick-off. 2,000 Boro fans in great voice at Vicarage Road, lots of #Believe hash tags roaming the Twitter-waves, stirring songs to get us in the mood for the occasion... We were hoisting ourselves by our own petard, and nothing had happened yet.

Even when Palace took the lead against Cardiff, I remained relatively unfazed. It was tempting to argue that Wilfred Zaha could be Boro's Gary Mackay at that point, but I had remembered that Mackay's goal had come three minutes from the end, not thirteen minutes from the beginning. Cardiff only needed a point... and they still had the whole game to get it.

Forget about the Eagles and Bluebirds, I thought. It's more important that our own lads do their job at all costs - for no win meant no dream.

And Boro were doing their best - but Scott Loach was having a blinder. No matter how hard Robson, Haroun, Bennett, Jutkiewicz and Emnes all tried, Loach was in a position to keep their efforts out. Worse still, the local commentators warned us at half-time that the best of Watford was yet to come.

So too, alas, was the best of Cardiff. Two goals in ten second half minutes switched the Selhurst Park scoreline in the Bluebirds' favour. The news clearly got through to the Boro lads, despite Mogga's hope that it wouldn't, and Boro's early dominance was soon a thing of the past.

From the moment Chris Iwelumo scored, Boro's performance regressed into something dangerously close to the West Brom surrender, with Emnes' equaliser a rare moment of light relief in a really uncomfortable final twenty minutes. Cardiff held on for their win, Boro went on to lose a crunch match - again - and I was left to reflect on what might have been.

We'd had three times as many shots on target as the opposition today, and we were sucker punched by a late (well, if you call after the seventy-minute mark "late") goal for the tenth time this season. Ultimately, you could sum up this game - and indeed the whole of 2011/12 - in just one word.

Wasteful.

Something for the lads to remember next season...

That is why we haven't gone up this season. True, we have been betrayed, as Boro have been in the past, by a thin squad and injuries/loss of form to key players - particularly Bailey, Emnes, Bates, Williams, Haroun and McDonald. That, and our once untouchable manager has justifiably come under fire for some questionable tactics in the second half of the season, such as not giving more game time to the likes of Martin, Ogbeche, Halliday, Reach and Main. (Although, in fairness, Mogga hasn't been helped by a smaller substitutes bench.)

But I think, when we look back at 2011/12, what we will really remember is our inability to score enough goals. Brighton aside, our goal difference was the worst in the top ten. That's played as much a part in our awful form in the second half of the season - six wins in twenty-three matches - as anything else.

But hey, things could be worse... right?

More later. In the meantime, I'll cheer you all up with a classic TV commercial featuring a Boro legend from Watford. One that makes me want some pizza...

Back In Time: Middlesbrough 4, Steaua Bucharest 2, 2005/06

As the exciting conclusion to our season approaches, Si's Insights looks back at the last time we gave ourselves hope of a great end to the season - on the anniversary of the occasion too...

Happy Anniversary, Everyone!

Has it really been exactly six years since we defied the odds for the second consecutive European home game, and gave our little town its most exciting European football night ever?

The win over Banik Ostrava was a delight, a convincing victory in our first ever match in Europe. The Lazio triumph was a truly exemplary performance, featuring a full house and Bolo Zenden's only Boro brace. But as far as drama and value for money goes, neither could match the Great Comebacks of our second European campaign - and for good reason.

I certainly didn't see the Basle (or is it Basel?) performance coming. Our league form that season was what you'd call schizophrenic - for every home hammering by Villa and Charlton, there was a home hammering of Manchester United and Chelsea - and we'd already lost 2-0 in the away leg. With that in mind, it seemed to matter little that I had chosen to support my local musical society's production of "Guys And Dolls" on the same night our second leg was due to be played.

I more than expected to be disappointed when I returned home and keyed in page 302 on the soon to be defunct Ceefax (the times are changing, and fast), instead, I was greeted by the headline:

BORO STORM PAST BASLE INTO SEMIS

I was both elated and annoyed at the same time. Elated in that we'd defied the odds in such an unexpected manner. Annoyed in that (a) I'd missed such a dramatic comeback, (b) once again, we'd shown our inconsistency. Even more annoyingly, I later found that only (well, that's how we saw it back then) 24,521 turned up to see it!

But suddenly, being seemingly the only Middlesbrough fan in the North West of Ireland didn't seem so bad after all. Words like “Unbelievable” and “It’s amazing what wee Middlesbrough can do what they want” were heard from my colleagues within the coming days. 

Why did I have to miss it? Luckily, I'd get another chance...

Three weeks later, and Boro’s topsy-turvy season had gone from good to bad to possibly worse. We had swarmed over West Ham United in the first half of the FA Cup semi-final at Villa Park. Then Dean Ashton intervened and ruined everything, his aerial challenge putting Mark Schwarzer out of action for almost the rest of the season. Brad Jones stepped into goal, Boro hearts sank, and before you knew it, West Ham were in the ascendancy. Slightly unfair though it seemed, Marlon Harewood’s winner (set up by, you guessed it, Ashton) had a tinge of inevitability about it.

Our season looked over. We would now have to win the UEFA Cup to guarantee European football for 2006/07. And how likely was it that we’d recover from such a deflation, even though 1-0 seemed an undoubtedly easier deficit to turn over in the semi-final second leg, against Steaua Bucharest?

The fans certainly believed it was possible, though, as evidenced by the capacity Riverside crowd that night. This time, I was at home, and switched on the computer to listen to Century Radio, eagerly anticipating another comeback. One that I hoped would be less nail-biting.

Twenty-six minutes in, and I had switched my computer off. Two almost typical Brad Jones fumbles had resulted in two Steaua goals, and our Captain (but not Manager) Fantastic Southgate had limped off. Jon Champion, commentating for ITV that night, was to say: “Comebacks like Basle only happen once in a lifetime”. And I definitely agreed with him, for a few minutes anyway.

At this moment, a realisation hit me. If this really was to be our last UEFA Cup match for the indefinite future, why not enjoy listening to what's left of it? So I lay down and switched on BBC Radio Five Live, listening calmly to what Boro would do for the remainder of the match.

Things had actually improved before the half-time break. Massimo Maccarone, on for Southgate, had pulled one back, and we had continued to pour forward before the players had to go in at the interval.

I didn't know this at the time, but the continuous mounting Boro pressure had forced Jon Champion to tempt fate: "It couldn't happen again, could it?"

Or could it? When Viduka met Downing's cross, I allowed myself to punch the air, but remained pretty relaxed. We still needed two more, and, unlike Basle, Steaua wouldn't be playing the last twenty minutes with ten men.

Then, it happened. Stewie's cross caused pandemonium in the Steaua box... and Chris Riggott atoned handsomely for his awful miss in the FA Cup semi. Suddenly, I was up on my feet. Yes, it was possible.

It’s incredible, really, how clearly I can remember my reactions during the final moments of this game. With a few minutes left, Chris Waddle had declared how "tired" the Boro lads looked, and at that stage I really was tempted to think that our chance had gone. But Steaua were tired too, not to mention nervous, and when Stewie capitalised on very uncertain defending to fire in that cross for Maccarone...

I must have jumped around constantly for... I don't know, more than a minute! And there was still the agony of Ugo Ehiogu's handball to listen through.

I had just four words for a workmate the following day: “Well… we did it.”

In the end, as you know, we didn’t do it. We got hammered in Eindhoven, and later it was revealed we made a massive loss on our UEFA Cup campaign. It was yet another lesson in what living The Dream can do to you. Sometimes I think it was as if Steve McClaren knew about this loss and, like Harry Redknapp at Pompey, decided to abandon a sinking ship the moment he was presented with the chance.

And today, even after Mogga's management and the club's more sensible economic measures have helped to steady the ship, one must wonder:

Will we ever get that kind of European adventure again?

Still, what a ride…

We Still Believe...

Well.... well... well.

As Anthony Vickers rightly put it on Twitter: "What a crazy, cruel, perverse team this is."

Just when we had been led to believe that the Moggalution was more of a mirage than an oasis, that Nicky Bailey was not the player he was before Christmas, that this disappointment of a season should just hurry up and die already... it happened.

Less than a week ago, we'd only managed a goalless draw at home with bottom of the table Doncaster, leaving chuckling Cardiff knowing that a home win against Leeds, who had nothing to play for, would give them cause to prepare for another possible promotion party.

We needed some kind of miracle to keep our extremely slim hopes alive. But it came.

Minutes after Andy Taylor, of all people, was denied the chance to seal Cardiff's play-off spot - and our fate - Luciano Becchio* got his head to Paul Connolly's cross at the other end and we were suddenly back in the play-off hunt.

This was actually the first of several "miracles" on a day that really saw us get the rub of the green, with a few exceptions. Even after Cardiff had failed to beat Leeds, a home victory over Southampton was still a huge ask.

Everything was stacked against us before kick-off. For a team of supposed "promotion challengers", our form was wretched - just one win in ten, with one of the most lacklustre home records in the Championship. The Saints had also won three times and drawn once on their last five visits to the Riverside. (You have to go back to the eventually irrelevant Juninho-inspired 3-1 win in 2004 for the last time we beat the Saints at home.**) Additionally, they hadn't lost a game after going in front for eighteen months.

If you believed the Sky commentators, nobody - especially not Boro - would spoil Southampton's promotion party.

And, sure enough, it looked like everything was going according to plan when Billy Sharp - who's been everything for Southampton that Lukas Jutkiewicz hasn't yet been for us - scored after only 52 seconds.

Uncomfortable memories of Roberto Di Matteo's thunderbolt at the old Wembley returned, along with the now commonplace scepticism about our defence. Even the returns of Merouane Zemmama, Faris Haroun and Rhys Williams (as a substitute) didn't seem to inspire us early on. Sure, we were combative, and we'd had efforts on goal to speak of (Bailey's first half pass to set up Barry Robson for a shot that went over the bar was a beaut), but so had they, and it might have already been curtains for our season had Danny Fox and the normally dependable Rickie Lambert taken the chances that came to them.

They didn't, though, setting the stage for miracle #2 - Bailey's shot getting the deflection it needed to leave Kelvin Davis helpless and find its way into the corner of the net. It was just reward for the spirit of the team, and especially for Bailey, who was playing his best football in months. It also came right on the stroke of half time, forcing Nigel Adkins to change his team talk entirely... but, most importantly, it convinced our team of non-scorers that they could actually score again. And, just seconds after Bailey's goal, we very nearly did score again - but the offside flag cut Lukas Jutkiewicz's celebrations short. (A real shame, in my opinion - his finish was truly professional. Marginally offside or not, I've seen those given. It would have been an invaluable boost for his confidence.)

Turns out that said flag was one of the very few times our luck was out that day. Early in the second half, Sharp missed a chance that he would normally have buried, before Seb Hines fouled Adam Lallana clean through on goal and stayed on the pitch. Not for the first time this season, we were grateful to a Bates - Tony Bates, that is.

Once we had weathered that storm, however, the pendulum swung yet again, with Mogga pulling off a surprisingly clever tactical switch (by his recent standards), sending on Rolls Rhys for Robbo and Curtis Main for Scott McDonald. The extra energy, enthusiasm and pace, at the expense of Robbo's temperament, clearly unsettled the Saints as we began to create chances again... later culminating in the free kick and the delightfully familiar celebration that re-ignited our dream.

Now what we've got to ask ourselves is this: is it still too late?

You have to admit that it's still more than likely that the final play-off position will go to Cardiff. Their next opponents, Crystal Palace, have nothing to play for and have only won seven games at home (just one fewer than ourselves) while Cardiff have only lost four away.

Cardiff may have developed a reputation for dropping points recently too, with just three wins from their last nine games, but, against that, they haven't lost a match since March 13.

You also have to go back to March 20 for the last time Palace actually won a league game. They've managed just three points out of a possible 24 since then.

That, and don't forget that we still have a job to do against Watford! We're in major danger of losing our focus here. An excellent away record (by our standards) does not entitle us to a win when it matters most.

How cruel is it to be given hope just when we have resigned ourselves, as fans, to everything ending on a low note? Last week, I accused the team of "playing us for fools" all season - and they still are, taking us on a roller coaster ride towards a possible play-off finish that we could have, in fact, sealed a long time ago.

The season will be full of what if's and if only's if we fail to get into sixth place. If only we hadn't suffered crucial injuries at the wrong times... if only we could learn to see out games when it actually mattered... if only our capable strikers could actually put the ball in the net more often...

But, on the other hand...

Let's go back to November 1987. Bulgaria hadn't lost a competitive international match at home for five years. To qualify for Euro 88, they only needed to draw against an already-eliminated Scotland. But then this happened...

...And so, a glorious new chapter in Irish football history began.

It's situations like these that can help create a great new chapter in Boro's history as well. As Bulgaria only needed a draw, they were less inclined to attack on the night, which worked in both Scotland's (and, more significantly, Ireland's) favour. The same could be true of Cardiff next Saturday.

More importantly, since when does the form book really matter? Lest we forget, Cardiff had won five out of six matches before Boro came to town last year and gloriously shredded their automatic promotion plans.

On the other hand, Cardiff have choked on the big stage enough times in recent years. They will still be hurting from narrowly missing out on the League Cup earlier this year too. Surely they can't fall short again.

Or can they?

* * * * *

*Kind of makes up for his Elland Road sickener of New Year's Day 2011, doesn't it?

**That game now brings back sad memories, as our first goal was the last professional Middlesbrough goal Juninho would ever score.

Flat Finale Threatens Boro's Future

Hmm.

I was tempted to hold off this blog until after the Saints match, when our promotion challenge is likely to be mathematically dead.

But a dismal showing like last night's inspires no confidence whatsoever.

And I'm not just gutted. I'm also very, very concerned.

Before the Doncaster match, I had called for Boro to show the spirit and mentality of Denmark at Euro 92. Instead, we saw something that bore a greater resemblance to France under Raymond Domenech - that is to say, flat as a pancake, with an ageing and unnecessarily temperamental midfield inspiration. (For Zinedine Zidane in 2006, read Barry Robson in 2012.)

Once again, we were presented with a golden opportunity to make the top six. And we failed to take it.

We really have been played for fools this season, haven't we? From time to time, following those halcyon days of August and September 2011, we've experienced a fillip; a win, a performance or even just a goal that we believe will "reboot" our promotion campaign. And every single time we've been tricked, be it for a few days or a few weeks, only to be brought back down to earth with a bang when it matters most.

The Doncaster match was no exception. Yes, their goalkeeper played a blinder. Yes, we hit the woodwork twice. But this is already-relegated Doncaster we're talking about. If we'd have approached the game with the right mentality and the right amount of bottle, we would have seen them off comfortably.

I'm not going to use lack of quality as an excuse, because quality is there. As poor as Hammill has been in a Boro shirt following his oh-so-promising debut against Portsmouth, he has proven in the past that he can cut it at this level. Robson, McMahon, Hoyte and even Bailey have all shown themselves to be capable of supplying our front line.

Furthermore, McDonald, Emnes, Ogbeche, Main and Jutkiewicz are all considerable Championship performers. Yet, apart from Emnes, none of them have reached double figures in the league this season! Why is this so?

When your team is struggling to score goals, you're left to point fingers at the organisation of the team - and it's here, alas, where Tony Mowbray must be deemed culpable. As much as I admire Mogga for going with a more adventurous formation for last night's match, a number of questions must be raised.

Why was Barry Robson, our most creative and tenacious midfield presence, replaced by the much more lightweight Adam Hammill? If Hammill was to be on the pitch then he needed another creative presence alongside him, and Robbo would have been it. And, wrong though it was for the fans to boo Kevin Thomson, he was not the kind of attacking, exciting substitution that we so desperately needed in the final ten minutes.

If ever there was a time to revert to McClaren-esque tactics, last night was it. With twenty minutes to go, my final formation would have been:

Steele - McMahon, McManus, Hines - Bailey - Robson, Hammill (for Arca) - Emnes, Jutkiewicz - McDonald, Main (for Hoyte).

And as a last chance saloon, with ten minutes to go, I would have brought on Ogbeche for McDonald. It makes more sense to go gung ho when (a) you have nothing to lose and (b) you absolutely have to win the game at all costs. That way, at least you can say you went down fighting.

At times like these I have more respect for McClaren's team in Eindhoven. Even if they weren't up to it, at least they had a go.

* * * * *

On December 31, Blackpool were ten points behind Boro. Back then, Birmingham would have needed four wins to catch up with us, while Reading would have needed two.

Today, Brum and the Tangerines are on the verge of cementing their play-off places, while the Royals' promotion party is already in full swing. All while just five wins and nineteen goals in twenty league games have virtually rendered this season meaningless.

If only that was our only problem. As Mogga has hinted, how much harder will a summer rebuild be? Barry Robson's already on his way, and Bates and Williams are likely to follow him.

Furthermore, the promise and momentum of last season is a thing of the past. The Joe Bennett of 2011/12 is a disjointed parody of the Joe Bennett of 2010/11. And the likes of Richie Smallwood, Adam Reach, Cameron Park, Curtis Main and Andy Halliday have not been given the amount of games they deserve.

With a cheaper, weaker and almost certainly less skilled squad, just how difficult will it be to mount a serious promotion challenge next year?**

It's as if 2011 never even happened.

**On the other hand, Reading managed promotion this year despite losing both their captain and star striker before the season began. So you never know...

Let's Do A Denmark!

Well, well, well. Boro have done it again!

Just when it looked like any hopes we had for yet another frustrating season were about to die, up popped Curtis Main with an absolutely brilliant finish. For all our endeavour, it was his priceless goal that was the difference between leaving a team with no hope and injecting a team full of hope... which we must now hope is genuine, and not a false dawn.

It's a common fact that football is full of swings and roundabouts. Yet few teams seem to conform to this particular rule of the game to quite the same extent that the Boro do. And that's what makes following them so infuriating sometimes.

But hey, we're back in the play off hunt. And after Saturday's display, few can say that our chance, however slim it is - realistically, we still need to rely on Blackpool, Cardiff or possibly Birmingham slipping up while not dropping points ourselves - wasn't deserved.

So what can we do to carry our new found momentum (or false hope? Take your pick) into the last three games of the season, starting with Doncaster tonight? Simple, really...

We can do a Denmark.

It's one of the great football fairy tales. Eleven days before Euro 92 kicked off in Sweden, Denmark's footballers were on holiday, having failed to qualify. But civil war had ripped Yugoslavia to shreds, and UEFA decided they could not compete. Hence, the team that finished second to them in qualification - Denmark - was left to take their place.

It happened so close to the finals that you would have thought the management would have no time to prepare a team. But it worked in precisely the opposite manner. All the other teams involved in Euro 92 had been caught up in the hype and build-up around the tournament, but the Danes arrived under no pressure whatsoever. They knew that every point gained was a bonus - after all, they weren't meant to be there to begin with - and with that in mind, they gradually went from strength to strength, to the point where they were able to record a convincing win over then World Champions Germany in the final.

Now... let's look at our present situation. Our form - just five wins since the turn of the year - is hardly inspiring. Nobody - especially not the pundits - is giving us much of a chance of breaking into the top six at the moment. So why not channel such low expectations into a great finale to the season, just like we did with those four straight wins last year? Especially away to Cardiff, when we convincingly turned over a side cocky enough to have prepared their automatic promotion lap of honour in advance.

That way, whether we lose the play off battle or not, we can at least go out on a high.

It would also be a great way for Lukas Jutkiewicz to finally prove his critics wrong. His hard working performance against Derby, coupled with his absolutely rotten luck in front of goal, has led me to conclude that he's suffering from Peter Crouch syndrome. That is to say, he's trying far too hard to impress, just like Crouch did in his early months at Liverpool before he finally found his way. The price tag (high by today's standards) and expectations ("He's the answer to our goal scoring problem!", thought everyone) haven't helped him, sure, but if he lets the pressure affect him a little less, and the team helps to take such pressure off his shoulders, who knows what may happen for both him and us?

* * * * *

As an aside, Si's Insights has learned that one of the best Boro blogs on the web - Mike Baker's Smog Blog - has reached the end of the line. This is sad news, especially considering how thorough, compelling and passionate Mike's writings have been over the years. In particular, his take down of Gordon Strachan's reign ("Goodbye Gordon. You were awful.") is a must read for anyone, as is his take on "The Year That Had It All", aka 1996/97.

I will also be grateful to Mike for publishing three of my own posts on his site, including the western-themed tribute to Mogga at the end of the gaffer's first year in charge.

So long, Mike. And thanks very much for your efforts!

You can read Mike's final blog post here.

Back In Time: Manchester United 3, Middlesbrough 3, 1996/97

Si's Insights looks back at a classic game which, unfortunately, had consequences...

Even before this season began, the pluses and minuses of Tony Mowbray's Boro were all too clear to see. Our current squad has some really good individual players, and is capable of playing some sparkling football, but can also let their heads go down too often when the going gets tough.

Lest we forget that in 2010/11, we let a commanding 3-1 lead at home to Swansea turn into a 4-3 defeat, and got hammered home and away by then future champions QPR.

So are you surprised about the way the current season's going? Really?

In truth, this is nothing new with Boro, as my "classic game" of the week illustrated almost fifteen years ago.

Forget the 1-0 win over Chelsea in March 1997, magnificent though it was - this was the game that epitomized 1996/97 in a nutshell. It had it all - goals, attacking wizardry, spirit, good defending, bad defending, crazy weather... and even a little bit of controversy.

One thing about "big" teams, and Manchester United are no different, of course, is that they often want to referee games themselves as well as play. But a lack of fussiness from the officials, coupled with a distinct lack of pressure and that little bit extra emotional investment on the day, saw us play above ourselves in a manner no sane Boro fan would have dreamed of.

This was one of the rare occasions where the Foreign Legion played like a team and inspired those around them. Emerson's strike, the last decent thing he did that season, was very well taken, but it's the first and third Boro goals that leave the longest lasting impression. Look again at how Ravanelli (typical of our luck for most of that season, we lost him to a season-ending injury in this game) and Juninho link effortlessly with the rest of the team before Juni scores what would be one of the Goals Of The Season. And look at the way the third goal is created and scored - Stamp, Freestone and Mustoe combining brilliantly before Craig Hignett scores one of his most memorable goals in a Boro shirt. Not a foreigner in sight!

Yet our Foreign Legion's influence on the game was undeniable that day. Even if they were aided by what the not-yet-Sir Alex Ferguson said was the worst defensive display he'd seen from his team in years, it was their goals, and their movement - especially Juninho's - that inspired the rest of the team beyond belief. Our defence, too, with Big Nige at his most determined, was excellent - but sadly not quite capable of holding out for the win that would have ensured our survival, three points or no three points. To this day, I can't help wondering... what if we hadn't allowed Gary Neville to fire United back into it before the break? We would have then been spared the agony of having the game rest on the admittedly contentious decision not to allow a penalty after a "foul" by Phil Stamp.

Ultimately, though, the game illustrated what we had missed throughout the month of April 1997 - Juninho doing what he does best. Helping us to win. It was clear that repeated, unwelcome attention from man-marking, coupled with fatigue, had drained both him and us of confidence that month. By May, he was back at his best and terrorizing defences, albeit too late for us.

Luckily for him - and us - his real reward in a Boro shirt was to come, seven years later.

It's Easy To See Where The Problem Lies

The look on my face as a certain Matty all but Fry-ed (sic) any hopes we had of a late promotion charge was less like one of disappointment and more like one of resignation. A shrug of the shoulders, as if to say, "What's new? This is Boro we're talking about here." It was only in the immediate aftermath of the final whistle that the realities of the scoreline sank in, summing up this game - and indeed, the two matches prior to it.

Not for the first time in the Riverside era, a thin squad and loss of key men at the most inappropriate times has cost us dearly. For George Boateng in 2004/05 and 2005/06, read Nicky Bailey, Rhys Williams and Matthew Bates this season.

Not for the first time in the Riverside era, we have been mugged and made to pay for either not taking chances or sloppy defensive mistakes. And instead of taking collective responsibility, as we should be doing, we look at the biggest teams and think - they seem to be getting away with it, so why must we suffer?

Not for the first time in the Riverside era, we have been forced to sell or let go key players who might have been able to make a significant difference. Emerson, Mark Viduka, Lee Cattermole, Leroy Lita, Andrew Taylor. The list is endless.

Not for the first time in the Riverside era, on days when we have been expected to perform, we have frozen. The Cardiff debacle of two days ago was almost an exact replica of that horror of an FA Cup quarter-final that we'd rather not think about.

Not for the first time in the Riverside era, we signed a striker who was expensive (by our standards) and yet failed to deliver the goals we were looking for despite a "proven record". In terms of work rate, he can't be faulted, but in terms of goals, Lukas Jutkiewicz is looking like a cut-price Afonso Alves. And it's goals that count.

Yes, goals.

We have five capable forwards at the club - Jutkiewicz, Marvin Emnes, Scott McDonald, Curtis Main and Bart Ogbeche - yet they have scored a mere twenty-eight goals between them.

Truthfully, most, apart from the unproven Main (who reminds me more of Danny Graham), remind me of Typical Boro strikers - the kind that are not reliably consistent at the top level of any league they're playing in. They're the sort that either fade by Christmas, or around then (Yakubu, Beck in 1997/98), pick and choose their games (Tuncay, Viduka), are moody and potentially disruptive influences (Ravanelli, Boksic, Viduka, Yakubu, Mido), are unlucky with injuries (Christie, Viduka), are enigmatic (Ricard, Job, Maccarone, Nemeth), or are simply not up to it (Beck for the most part, Ricketts, Alves, Dong Gook Lee, Aliadiere, etc, etc.).

Whereas our "rivals" in the top five (and I use that term loosely, as we are slipping further and further away from the play-off places by the day) can command goal differences of +15 minimum (Southampton's is +36!!), ours is 0. That seems to say it all.

But, of course, it's not just about scoring goals - it's about scoring them at the right time. When it matters most. We can talk about that record-breaking 8-1 trouncing of Manchester City at the Riverside 'til infinitum, but the bottom line is this - it was City who got into Europe. It was City who got a massive cash injection. And it is City who are now challenging for the Premier League title. Boro? We merely made a disappointing season look a lot better than it actually was. Before long, three proven midfielders, our player of the season and the Riverside's best goalkeeper had all been allowed to leave - and we suffered accordingly for it.

How ironic it is that I am lamenting our inability to find an end product, when a mere three and a half months ago I was warning Bates, Williams and Emnes about deserting the Moggalution for teams with no end product. A Moggalution that, as I worryingly noted in a recent blog post, seems to have been derailed completely now. At least the Ipswich game gave us hope... which, as we later found, turned out to be false. 4 points from the last 24 has left the season in very real danger of petering out altogether.

It would, of course, be ridiculous to suggest that Mogga should go as a result of this. But what happened to the spark, the inventiveness and drive he gave us in his first season and slightly beyond? It appears long gone.  The team appear to be drained of ideas, self-belief and a spine - the very things that the Moggalution was built on.

As Boro legend Craig Hignett rightly put it on Twitter, the team has "forgotten how to win".

Mathematically, we can still make the play-offs.

Theoretically, would you want to bet on it?