Leyton Orient 2 Southend United 0, 29/12/20

A game in which... Orient took to the field massively disadvantaged by the fact Ross Embleton was self-isolating on account of wanting to finish season four of The Crown. Well, I say massively disadvantaged but it soon became apparent the Os were playing with exactly the same tactical nous as in previous games. Which was none.

Luckily this was ultimately an improved performance nonetheless and two typical moments of class from McAnuff and Wilkinson and a unprecedented lack of catastrophic defensive errors were enough to polish off a woeful Southend side. 

But let me say this: Orient really aren't as bad as many doomsayers have been making out in the past few weeks. We're actually worse. Ok, JUST KIDDING... Christ! We're one point of the play offs, and while we obviously won't actually get promoted, in a messed up season we ain't doing too bad, and very occasionally have looked pretty good. And remember, finishing 17th in the fourth tier is actually Orient's natural resting state, so we're all good... 

Moment of magic... The moment referee Craig Hicks measured out the 10 yards required for the placement of the Southend wall when facing an Orient free kick. It seems finickity Southend players and fans believe that the man in black miscalculated by, say, a couple of kilometres or so making it too simple for McAnuff to pop the ball in the net. I guess looking at the evidence we can concede that Mr Hicks probably does have a problem estimating measurements, but it's not Southend you should feel sorry for, it's the referee's string of disappointed lovers sold a false promise, amirite? 

Praise be... It's now a firmly held Orient tradition that whenever Sam Ling – who unrelatedly is the son of the Director of Football – doesn't put in a car crash performance we have to overly praise him, so let's get that out the way: MIND-BLOWING 90 MINUTES FROM SAM LING – WHO UNRELATEDLY IS THE SON OF THE DIRECTOR OF FOOTBALL – ONE IN THE EYE FOR ALL THE LING-BASHERS. Aside from that Akinola played quite well, hey? 

Taxi for... It's now five months since Martin Ling's bizarre interview in which he ends up congratulating himself on signing Ouss Cisse then realises in horror what he's done so tries to backtrack by executing a two-footed tackle on the English language: "A sigh of a job well done we thought we were losing." So let's all think about what Cisse has achieved since then. Well that's three milliseconds of your life you'll never get back. But let's not be too harsh on the player who looked so promising on loan but has delivered so little this campaign. After all, I think he's just about to complete the tackle he began in the season-opener against Oldham. 

In the dug out... Forget Brexit, the real schism in this country is between the ROSS OUT-ERS and the ROSS IN-ERS. (Not forgetting, of course, the MONSTER RAVING ROSS-ERS, the THE PEOPLE'S FRONT OF ROSS, THE ROSS-IAN PEOPLE'S FRONT and a new organisation called RECLAIM ROSS set up by the actor Laurence Fox, who believes that #allRossesMatter and that all the rich, privileged, white Rosses have a really hard time these days.) 

Is Ross the right manager for Orient or not is the question. The answer: hard to say for the long run, but it's difficult to imagine that a different gaffer would have us topping the table right now without some changes to the squad. Still, there may be a neat compromise lurking in the fact that we now have a 100% record in games in which Embleton was the manager, but didn't actually attend... 

Leyton Orient 1 Grimsby Town 1, 11/1/20

A game which... heralded the start of a bold new era for Leyton Orient, albeit one that differs from the previous era only by the fact Ross Embleton has blacked out the word "interim" on his business cards with a felt-tip pen.

So, same old, same old, with the new Orient paying homage to every single Orient team of the past by being mostly shit, then getting a bit of a head of steam up and nearly scoring, only to concede catastrophically before somehow rescuing a point.

But let's not be too harsh, hey, because even though the board have clearly given up on this season, the team haven't and put in a fair degree of effort for at least 20 minutes of the second half.

Converting pressure into goals might help, but Rome wasn't built in a day – indeed, if the Leyton Orient squad had been tasked with constructing the eternal city it would probably now resemble Stevenage.



Moment of magic... An outrageous bit of showboating by Conor Wilkinson in the second half when he weaved Lionel Messi-style in and out of probably at least 40 Grimsby players before collapsing to the ground in the penalty area dazzled by his own brilliance.

Jordan Maguire-Drew, of course, was hugely affronted by this blatant land grab for his title of Official Resident Showboater and immediately pulled off a defiant –if entirely pointless – succession of stepovers. Not to be outdone, James Brophy then attempted to dribble the width of the pitch – and I do mean width, not length – only to lose the ball, allowing Grimsby to score. Great work lads.

Taxi for... Josh Wright. Not because he was particularly bad – he never particularly is – but because he's in danger of joining the ranks of players such as Tom Newey, David Hunt, Tom Parkes and Andrew Cave-Brown who made numerous appearances for Orient with no discernible impact, good or bad. Let's call them The Forgettables. The type of players about whom, towards the end of a match, you wonder aloud as to their injury status, only to find they've been on the pitch for the entire 90 minutes.

In the dug out... A chance for head coach Ross Embleton to prove he was his own man and set himself apart from his predecessor interim head coach Ross Embleton. That meant leaving Lee Angol on his own up front trying to deliver flick ons to himself; Josh Coulson inexplicably returned to the side; and recent goal-scorer Ruel Soteriou without a part to play. As you were...

Meanwhile, in the director of football's office... "I'm 100% convinced Ross Embleton is the right man for the job," said director of football Martin Ling this week, which is why it only took him until January to appoint Ross even though he's been at the club for years. "Football is a results business," he went on, neatly explaining why he's backing a man whose record in League Two is played 23, lost 9, drew 8, won 6.

I jest, of course, and I'm hardly going to question Martin Ling's judgment just because in Steve Davis and Carl Fletcher he made the two worst appointments in managerial history, so to speak. Truth is, I'd also have given it to Ross who is the most decent bloke you're likely to come across in football and deserves a shot at this, even if the process by which we arrived there appeared to have the hidden hand of Alessandro Angelieri guiding it...

Leyton Orient 3 Walsall 1, 12/10/19

A game in which... Joe Widdowson scored. Take that in for a moment and spare a thought for Eliud Kipchoge who, just hours earlier, became the first human to run a sub two-hour marathon only to find that by teatime his feat was only the second greatest sporting achievement of the day.

But wait, there's more: Joe Widdowson scored the goal – his first since 2009 BC – with his right foot. Remember, the defender is so left-footed that he rarely even bothers booting up his right, preferring to take to the field wearing a single novelty Spiderman slipper he received for Christmas a few years back. Occasionally he simply leaves his right foot with kit man Ada for safe keeping.

And so, in scoring a right-footed screamer, Widdowson's achievement transcends that of sporting endeavour and sits proudly alongside man's first landing on the moon; the mapping of the human genome; the development of vaccines; and the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen.

From an Orient perspective the sheer euphoria of the goal propelled them to perhaps their most convincing 45 minutes of football this season, scoring twice more in the second half and cruising to victory. And there was only the one catastrophic defensive calamity too, which is progress.



Moment of magic... Widdowson aside there was also the fortifying sight of Matt Harrold scoring his first career goal that wasn't either a header or a tap-in during a last-minute scramble in the six-yard box. And thank the Lord that when Craig Clay was put through on goal by a Walsall mix up he had enough time to remember he couldn't shoot for toffee himself and therefore the good sense to square the ball to his ginger-headed team mate. Tidy finish it was too from Harrold, who is likely to lead the line for the next three games thanks to Conor Wilkinson's attempt at strangling an opponent to death.

Taxi for... James Alabi. And I mean that in the kindest and most literal sense: Alabi would have needed a taxi home after expending so much energy chasing down lost causes in his first three minutes on the pitch that he was subsequently unable to even drag one foot in front of the other. This was unfortunate as in his fourth minute on the pitch he was actually played through on goal and could do nothing more huff to a bewildered stand still. Which is a shame as he would almost definitely had scored had he made it anywhere near the goal. Right?

In the dug out... It's incredible to witness how simply removing the title "interim head coach" from Ross Embleton has liberated him into making sensible footballing decisions like not playing five at the back and dropping Sam Ling. Yes, yes I know he's injured, don't write in. Credit to Ross though, he seems to have got the team into something of a groove, just about in time for a new manager to come in and rip it all up again.

In the bars... On Friday night fans of the recently introduced O's Lager – all zero of them – were left shell-shocked when it was announced that the lukewarm dishwater was to be replaced in the bars around the stadium. By what, though? Well, the logic from CEO Danny Macklin appears to be that since it would be impossible to find a lager universally liked by all Orient fans it was safer to opt for two that are universally despised, namely Budweiser and Coors Light. The last word, however, went to the club's social media manager who cheekily chose to celebrate victory on the official Twitter feed with the off-brand message "If Carlsberg did second-halves..." I say "last word" because he's now been fired.



Meanwhile in the Director of Football's office... 

Kent Teague: Hi Martin, what's up?
Martin Ling: Not much
KT: Just wondering how the search for a new manager was coming on Martin
ML: It take time to read 40-plus application forms Kent
KT: Right, I estimate it would take about four or five hours. It's been three weeks
ML: I also have to cross-check them on Wikipedia
KT: Ok, but again that's probably another three or four hours' work...
ML: And I've been on the phone to Colin Calderwood
KT: Great! What about?
ML: Oh nothing, just saying hi really
KT: Martin...
ML: Yes?
KT: Have you lost the application forms?
ML:
KT: Martin?
ML: I think they're definitely somewhere... Sorry. I heard Ryan Jarvis has got his coaching badges. No?

Leyton Orient 3 Port Vale 3, 28/9/19

A game which... began with a miracle right up there with feeding the five thousand, the raising of Lazarus and the 1848 apparition of the Lady of Lourdes: namely that Port Vale's defence appeared to be actually worse than ours. "Hold our beers" said the Orient back five as they set about undoing this celestial aberration by conceding two typically calamitous goals and ensuring the team went into the break 2-1 down.



Something was clearly said at half-time, that something being "Get in the shower Ekpiteta you donkey, you're off" and the Os reverted to 4-4-2 and some semblance of balance. Well, at least Port Vale weren't getting in behind our "wing backs" – and, yes I am making quotation marks in the air right now with a sarcastic look on my face – quite as often.

There was also a lot more attacking intent and impetus, which is nice to see – well done – not least because it's now clear that we're going to need to score at least three goals to even get a point in every game from here on...

Moment of magic... An absolute banger of a goal from Conor Wilkinson who I might have accidentally said had no end product last week. In fact the former Dagenham and Redbridge man is showing increasing evidence that he might actually be quite good, also setting up the O's opener with a delightfully-placed cross. He needs to be careful though: if he starts to put in a decent shift and score a lot of goals then a large proportion of Orient fans will demand that he is dropped, as is our quaint tradition.

Praise be... Did you see Josh Wright's attempted bicycle kick in the second half? Well, I say bicycle but perhaps broken scooter doused in petrol then set ablaze and thrown into a canal might better describe his affront to the art of acrobatic goal attempts. Aside from that a good day's work – two goals and a few telling interventions – from the Essex Exocet, as he's known to no one.



Taxi for... Craig Clay. And I obviously write this with great regret because I put my heart and soul into supporting that guy last season and didn't even slag him off once apart from one time at the start of the campaign when I made him the punchline of a cheap joke about Charlie Lee. So let's try to be calm and balanced about his display against Port Vale and simply say it was the worst performance by any sportsperson in any sport in all of time.

In the dugout... The crowd sung Ross Embleton's name at the conclusion of the game, which is some achievement since it's a name syllably-inconsistent with most traditional football chants. No matter: Ross deserves it for taking on a role he never aspired to at a time of great emotional distress for the club. He is a man of dignity, integrity and total professionalism and should continue to command the highest respect among our fans. That said, employing the failed 5-3-2 formation again – what a twat.

Are we going to be relegated? Well, let me put it this way: has a team that concedes at least two goals every game ever stayed up? I have literally no idea what the answer to that is so feel free to hit me up with some stats if you're Neilson Kaufman. I should say that there was enough in the second half to give me faith we'll avoid the drop: Conor Wilkinson's increasing influence; George Marsh's maturity in midfield; Jordan Maguire-Drew's peach of a cross for the last-minute equaliser; and Matt Harrold's all-round gingerness. It's going to be a bumpy ride though, isn't it?

Meanwhile on Soccer A.M.... 



Ross Embleton: Right lads, we're on You Know The Drill this week. We need two volunteers - first come first served. Who's up for showing what skilled players we have at the club?
Conor Wilkinson: I'm in gaffer!
RE: Nice one Sargent Wilko. Anyone else?
James Alabi: Me too gaffer!
RE: .... ... ... ... Anyone else?
JA: You said first come first served
RE: I think I said we'd draw names out of a hat
JA: No, you said first come first served gaffer. It was like three seconds ago.
RE: You know it's a shooting drill James?
JA: My speciality!
RE: 
JA: I mean my speciality compared to say goalkeeping or embroidery
RE: Just try not to embarrass us James
JA: Message received and understood gaffer...

Watch what happened here: https://twitter.com/SoccerAM/status/1178248766626902022 

Leyton Orient 1 Crewe Alexandra 2, 17/9/19

A game in which... after six consecutive seasons of either boom or bust, Orient returned to their normal resting state of being mildly shit. This means that anyone who began supporting the team post-2012/13 will now be experiencing a sickening realisation akin to Charlton Heston discovering that the Planet of The Apes was actually Earth; Keanu Reeves uncovering that humans were being farmed for energy by a race of artificially intelligent beings in The Matrix; and fans of Milli Vanilli receiving the news that Fab and Rob didn't actually sing on their own records.

Yeah, don't come here expecting any contemporary cultural references, right? Otherwise I'd have used the shattering revelation that Drake doesn't write his own raps. I digress: my point is that fans longer in tooth will have felt the warm glow of familiarity in seeing Orient fail to trouble an opposition goalkeeper for 90 minutes; give away sloppy goals; huff and puff a bit to no discernible effect; and make all the wrong substitutions at the wrong time. In other words business as usual for the years 1881 to 2012 with only a handful of exceptions. Welcome back Orient, we've missed you.



Moment of magic... A penalty! Rejoice. Oh hang on, Angol's gone off injured. Shit. And some bloke who made it as far as the judges' houses in the 2013 series of The X Factor has wandered onto the pitch to take it. Oh, he's missed...

I mean, to be fair Dale Gorman – sensing the impending catastrophe – did initially try to take the ball off Jordan Maguire-Drew, but the winger stuffed it up his shirt to prevent him doing so. Either that or Maguire-Drew was reprising his hilarious training ground skit – "Look lads I'm pregnant! Did you hear that - pregnant!! Hahahahaha!!" – which at least two of his team mates found mildly diverting the first time, less so the 57th. Whatever – he must never ever take a spot kick again.

Praise be... Hilariously the sponsors – clearly well into their seventh bottle of Echo Falls by this point – gave man of the match to Conor Wilkinson. So let's go along with that for a laugh shall we? Conor Wilkinson has tidy feet, no one can deny that. Equally he worked industriously in the final third of the pitch, winning a few headers and holding on to the ball, all of which amounted to literally nothing. Zilch. Diddly squat. No end product whatsoever. He's the footballing equivalent of a master civil engineer who spends years painstaking designing a bridge to traverse a ravine, only to accidentally leave a gaping hole in the middle, yelling madly "EVERYTHING WORKS FINE APART FROM ALL THE PEOPLE FALLING TO THEIR DEATHS!"


Taxi for... Let's get back to Jordan Maguire-Drew shall we? I mean, there's no denying he has hair and tattoos. I would also back him to casually chip the keeper and score if ever gifted the ball by an opposition defender, as was the case in this game. Unfortunately we can also rely on "The Magpie" (is that his nickname? Let's agree it is) to repeatedly give the ball away in dangerous areas and generally arse around to little effect for much of the game. Let's give him the benefit of doubt and call him an "enigma" for the moment though, ok?

In the dug out... Well, you have to feel for Ross Embleton when he thinks to himself "I need to change things up here" only to turn around and see James Alabi looking up at him with the expectant eyes of yapping cocker spaniel. Mind you, Embleton was probably the idiot who removed him from the transfer list so what goes around comes around. Still, calling for his head is ludicrous. I might be old-fashioned, but I'd rather give a new manager more than nine games to prove his mettle. He can have ten.

Are we going to be relegated? I refer you to my earlier point: we are mildly shit, which means we'll likely spend most of the season mathematically in danger of relegation but probably just keep above the danger zone by virtue of inexplicably against-the-run-of-form victories against northern teams away from home. It is probably also fair to say that a number of our players have yet to fully adjust to League Two, but let's not have them summarily executed just yet, hey? We must restrict ourselves only to the more courageous activity of being sarcastic about them on blogs and social media.

Meanwhile in the Orient programme... 

Editor: Hey Jordan, we need a recipe from you for Tuesday's edition.
Jordan: My recipe is to score lots of goals hahahaha!
Editor: Right. I'm going to need an actual recipe.
Jordan: Sorry.
Editor: What's your favourite meal?
Jordan: I eat defenders for breakfast hahahahaha!
Editor: Yeah, again, I need an actual meal.
Jordan: Sorry. It's steak and eggs.
Editor: Do you know how to cook steak and eggs?
Jordan: Yes! You cook the steak and then cook the eggs.
Editor: But how?
Jordan: ... could you write that bit?