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Mullet added 19:35 - Feb 27
Across the freezing savannah of the John Smith's stadium two Towns went to work both clad in blue and white, both unsure of what this season holds, both in need of something with so much left to play for. Matching the home side's wingbacked formation, McCarthy opted to sit on something comfortable. Hyam missing meant (just a) little change. Bart and the familiar back four, Foley and Douglas in front of them and a front end of Pringle, Pitman, Sears and Murphy. Some might call it 4-3-3, but with Pringle on the right and Sears the left and Murphy a lone bow up top it was more gelatinous than the rigid 4-4-2 Mick was once known for.

Another impressively big end from a recently flaccid Ipswich on the road, bumped around behind the goal shivering at the sight of their own side attacking towards them in the first half. In the opening minutes Town were wasteful in possession, happy to lump balls down the line and often out of play for Ipswich to capitalise on, unfortunately we rarely did.

Despite the deathly still chill that is early spring up North, some concerns of the wind affecting the way in which the ball swirled and over reached its way out of play; meant when McCarthy's men made their first miscalculation it was far more dangerous than a throw just inside our own half. Berra bolted as a ballooning lump forward caught him out and Wells sprang from deep to try a cheeky lob, just over the bar.

It was the second of a trilogy of moments early on when Huddersfield should have lead and didn't. Ipswich were happy to play counter attacking football, by channelling the wingbacks into no man's land. Unfortunately not for the first time, our captain started the game more obvious than fantastic and along with Berra, had Tommy not been there we might have exposed ourselves in the icy environs more than once.

An unchecked header from a deep cross was bulleted far too wide, but the way in which the hosts got the shot off was a worry. After those Hudds forced a brilliant save from Bart again when he raced off his line to greet an effort from Bunn who had been slowed but not stopped by our defenders.

Town swapped wingers and went from wonky to something closer to wonderful. What little neat triangles of football either side had tried to play had been equalled by lateral movement and decided by miscontrols. Foley the little lump of Cole for today, and Douglas more akin to the home side's nickname, seemed to snap and bite at ankles and elbows all day long with his physical presence.

When Town were finally gifted more than a throw in for their fleeting advances on the floor, Foley dinked with his flat little head, Pringle popped it over Joel Lynch and Murphy like the Blues' one man icebreaker pushed him all the way to the byline. An inventive strirring below the waist saw the Irish keep the ball in play on the volley and drop it around the defender. After a touch so sexy it deserves it's own Marvin Gaye song the Number 9 righted himself from being the wrong side of Lynch. When he looked to have overhit the cross to Sears, it was clear that (and for) Pringle to pop up and drive the yellow globe home into the net between keeper and defenders alike.

One deadly shot and Town were slithering back up the table. The barmy army hummed and vibrated warding off the cold with ecstatic appreciation.

The smell of blood, sent the fans and teams into a little frenzy and Huddersfield countered with two swift shots, in the pursuit of instant reciprocity. The second of which saw Wells test Bart and the Pole got down like an eager streetwalker to palm it well away for a throw much to our delight.

Town now moved to a more confusing 4-2-3-1 that saw Pitman and Sears playing like wingbacks or at best, wingers pegged back too, to neutralise and channel the width of the other side. Sometimes you're the rock and sometimes your the water. In typical McCarthy fashion, as the Terriers swelled attack after attack for the rest of the half, Town players stood fast. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't easy. Any combination of 1,2 or 3 might make up our central midfield as we jostled for the ball and Foley was sometimes left behind Dougie and Pringle, and Pringle sometimes stood off Murphy as we formed an almost Napoleonic ramrod of blue shirted defiance to counter the threats sent our way.

We seemed happy to let Huddersfield have lots of the ball and play themselves out of contention, we also failed to make good use of it as often as we should. The goalscorer's set pieces so improved us that they chimed with the sense that Murphy looked a little more like the man of yesteryear. One free kick near the end of the half producing a header close to goal but not close enough from the on song striker.

As the half came to a close the footballing obelisk McCarthy had plonked on his blessed Yorkshire soil showed no signs of cracking. When Douglas, Pitman and Sears swept forward like a sandstorm of stinging passes to land Knudsen on the byline, the rampaging Dane did well to cut a sweet ball back. It deserved a better finish, or at least a luckier one as all the hustle and huff finally looked ready to crush our opposition.

When the second half came so did Huddersfield. Bart had again shown why he was between the posts and Ipswich why fans were between dancing and despair most weeks. His big hands clawing out the stinging and silly efforts from all angles today. More rogue rampages forward came to nought and the score remained so for the bestriped Huddersfield. When Town finally got forward they failed to do anything, but get Chambers in the book for a reckless trip.

Despite the hard work of the home side, their best chance to punish us came from barely six yards out. Their left back botched his shot wide as the goal beckoned him to fill it following a fortunate deflection into his path. In contrast, throughout the game each man Mick put out there satisfied McCarthy's hierarchy of footballing needs to mechanical precision.

Sears and Murphy were all over the space left by their markers and nearly became the sirens drawing the opposition to their doom. Another Searsy run, saw Murphy turn his man with a cyclone of a step over. Alas he drifted too wide and sent his broadside the wrong side of the post. It was a rare glimpse of glory that deserved a goal in a game much lower scoring than it could, nay should have been.

Double subs for the home side including Joel Lynch who looked happy to go to the dugout. He will wake up tonight in a cold sweat with Murphy's essence deep in his nostrils – have no doubt. Meanwhile Pringle was a straight swap for Bru in the blues ever changing but unflinching midfield. Not quite like for like as it became apparent that the Mauritian's deadballs weren't quite as deadly when they needed to be. His best chance to launch a freekick orbited over a full box and out for a goalkick when a second breakthrough seemed badly needed.

Another sub and another set back soon followed as Town were soon playing out the last 20 or so minutes against ten men. An innocuous enough looking injury soon revealed itself to be too severe and the home side made do with a man less.

Patterns of play were familiar and no less neat as Blues' backline frustrated and forced shots from distance to keep the lead intact. The man that had been so crucial to that was then removed for AMN. A small swish of Foley's buttocks had been enough to steer passages of play all game. His display not quite the dog's bollocks, but his heat map may well resemble something not far away. Such was his disciplined dallies in straight lines across a small circle just inside the centre spot.

As time ticked by the home side made use of all they had left on the pitch, sending their keeper up for every corner and freekick going. When the young loanee had the chance to stretch and snap at them following a clearance, he opted to dither just inside the enemy's halfway line when bolting for the corner was feverishly pointed out to him thousands of times over. A foul given away, and tensions tested. He didn't do it again moments from the end as Town played out the game, happy to soak up the pressure and simply overwhelm the Terriers with their superior numbers, and fresher legs. Digby even made an appearance for Sears in injury time as a colossal defensive midfielder happy to stand on the 18 yard line and pound anything in range.

A little more bravery and Town might well have forced another goal at either end. The lead secure, remaining so seemed crucial with games like Forest away perhaps waiting in the wings to haunt us all. So many stayed long after the whistle. Knudsen immediately saluted all with excited gestures, Bart cheekily teased Chambo. Thousands of fingers quivered voluntarily embracing the imminent fistpumps.

Booming celebrations rung out as the armband thrust it's sign of victory forward towards the mob like a conquering Caesar may well have done. Even the imperial majesty of Rome fell once upon a time, but before that; greatness smiled upon it. Even if McCarthy is building little, not even momentum, there is little doubt that his charges will stay battling as long as there is a fight left out there to be won.
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6 AugSunderland A1 - 213
9 AugBristol R CCR1H2 - 00
12 AugStoke City H2 - 05
19 AugQPR A0 - 13
26 AugLeeds H3 - 46
29 AugReading CCR2A2 - 22

2 SepCardiff City H3 - 28
16 SepSheff Wed A0 - 16
19 SepSouthampton A0 - 16
23 SepBlackburn H4 - 35
26 SepWolves CCR3H3 - 23
30 SepHuddersfield A1 - 13

3 OctHull City H3 - 06
7 OctPreston H4 - 24
25 OctBristol City A0 - 13
28 OctPlymouth H3 - 26

1 NovFulham CCR4H1 - 32
4 NovBirmingham A2 - 27
7 NovRotherham A2 - 22
11 NovSwansea H3 - 24
25 NovWBA A2 - 09
29 NovMillwall H3 - 13

2 DecCoventry City H2 - 16
9 DecMiddlesbrough A0 - 25
12 DecWatford A1 - 28
16 DecNorwich H2 - 28
23 DecLeeds A4 - 06
26 DecLeicester H1 - 16
29 DecQPR H0 - 09

1 JanStoke City A0 - 01
6 JanWimbledon FACR3A1 - 36
13 JanSunderland H2 - 113
22 JanLeicester A1 - 17
27 JanMaidstone FACR4H1 - 213

3 FebPreston A3 - 27
10 FebWBA H2 - 29
14 FebMillwall A0 - 45
17 FebSwansea A1 - 21
20 FebRotherham H4 - 310
24 FebBirmingham H3 - 13

2 MarPlymouth A0 - 25
5 MarBristol City H3 - 212
9 MarCardiff City A2 - 14
16 MarSheff Wed H6 - 010
29 MarBlackburn A0
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