Papering over the cracks. The team selection smacked of last chance saloon with the unbelievable recall of Knudsen over the very unlucky Kenlock. So some optimism pre match which continued with an early penalty to Town, not that it was obvious from the far end of the DW where we were congregated. That was where the positivity stopped, despite the late winner, with another woeful performance against an even more goal shy and dismal side in Wigan. The first half saw some nice flashes from Dozzell and Williams but the former was clearly affected by an early, and unjustified, yellow from Mr Fussy aka Keith Stroud.

The game was played mostly in thickening fog which does not help an objective match report, however even with the fog it was obvious that defensively we are a disaster, Berra appears to be thinking of heading back to Scotland and Chambers was again woeful, being absolutely skinned at will by anyone with a bit of pace.

The withdrawal of Dozzell was predictable and correct whilst Zi hope Williams was off for a knock..... Having said that Didz made a difference and placed the winning header perfectly to endure three valuable if not deserved points headed to East Anglis.

Pitman is not, and never will be a target man but took his penalty well, the second being yet another deflection wrong footing the keeper. The fact that Bart was our saviour more than once is becoming common and I suggest without him we could be bottom 3

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Papering over the cracks. The team selection smacked of last chance saloon with the unbelievable recall of Knudsen over the very unlucky Kenlock. So some optimism pre match which continued with an early penalty to Town, not that it was obvious from the far end of the DW where we were congregated. That was where the positivity stopped, despite the late winner, with another woeful performance against an even more goal shy and dismal side in Wigan. The first half saw some nice flashes from Dozzell and Williams but the former was clearly affected by an early, and unjustified, yellow from Mr Fussy aka Keith Stroud.

The game was played mostly in thickening fog which does not help an objective match report, however even with the fog it was obvious that defensively we are a disaster, Berra appears to be thinking of heading back to Scotland and Chambers was again woeful, being absolutely skinned at will by anyone with a bit of pace.

The withdrawal of Dozzell was predictable and correct whilst Zi hope Williams was off for a knock..... Having said that Didz made a difference and placed the winning header perfectly to endure three valuable if not deserved points headed to East Anglis.

Pitman is not, and never will be a target man but took his penalty well, the second being yet another deflection wrong footing the keeper. The fact that Bart was our saviour more than once is becoming common and I suggest without him we could be bottom 3

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So this Ipswich, and what had Mick done? Knudsen paraded around the team before kickoff. One of five changes he high-filed and hugged his way around Berra, Chambers, Webster whilst Williams slapped hands with Lawrence and Pitman just out of range all took their places. The Dane let his arm linger around the shoulders of young Andre Dozzell as Bart scratched around like a neon cock between the posts. It was an experimental line-up in no uncertain terms. Completed by Skuse and Sears.

Town started brightly in grey gloaming come early, sunlight struggling to pierce the light fog all around. Luckily Ipswich kept the ball out of it with crisp and intricate passing in an opening spell that was all one way. Barca kit, Barca-lite play as Williams found Lawrence and the ball went from Wales to Jonas for our first attack forward.

Wigan were 9 men and a striker in front of the veteran Jaaskelainen. What was easy to break down for the visitors was the place of play as even the lightest and smallest among them won headers and flicks to play to feet. It took barely 6 minutes for the pressure to tell.

The impressive Lawrence one of two wingers looking to get inside the lumpen back four. He drove at as many as he could and forced the question. Upended after a couple of touches. The referee immediately gave a spot kick to the disgust of everyone local to the event.

Pitman was deadly. Firing low and firmly to make the lead ours.

Wigan seemed to succumb to crushing silence. Town moved the ball well but looked like a side that hadn't played together before. Impressive in fits, but not all the pieces fell into place every time we attacked. Dozzell sat centrally but dragged himself away from the action too often. His most eyecatching moment offensively came with a sweetly lofted ball to set away Lawrence. It was too much from the lad who looks a little too young and skidded out for a throw.

When Skuse had similar time further forward he picked a lower, shorter version to Sears' feet. From a position where his speed saw him hit a brick wall. It was one of several moments where Town who often look good enough up until the last 30 yards, took 10 or so off their usual tally.

Lawrence had the best chance again from the fruitful left flank. His touch let him spin away from the defence who were rocked rather than steady, but it became an easy take for a keeper sliding and smothering with blessed relief.

With Knudsen frequently exposed and caught between his man and someone else's the hosts best moments came when they too got space to play. Their second rate Costa rarely did more than filter the odd lumped ball out of a game increasingly descending into highballs from the hosts when they struggled and stumbled. Despite their clear ability to run at us.

Both Pitman and Dozzell picked up silly bookings from a fussy and infuriatingly poor ref. The goal scorer threw the ball back to their keeper, when it should have gone back towards ours near the halfway spot. Minutes later the youngster was turned slower than milk by his man. He took a lump of him and his shirt, but the ref mimed an elbow to justify to the yellow raised.

From the kick a spinning effort was palmed off the studs of an offside Grigg. Sliding in unnoticed at the back post, the equaliser looked on if you ignored every rule in the book. After 20 or so minutes of encouraging and sometimes excellent forward play from the Blues, the momentum swung away from us like many of the speculative efforts of recent months. To call their play more expansive would mislead us away from the reality of their previous stillness.

Town then began to crack and pixelate. The reception from the supportive away end turned to nervous crackles. Advantages were given unseen all round, minor infractions penalised whilst Berra did enough to put off one shot at the near post by clearly taking handfuls of shirt on the 12 yard line.

Desperation told when Max Power showed none and with his body between the ball Williams won, and the ref, a free kick given right in the middle of Bart's goal. Charged down, Sears lifted his boot to take the ball away and a dipping header earned another baffling decision. Hit at the second time of asking, a wrong footed Bart managed to fist away the deflection from a defender's asscheek. Waiting at the opposite post was Dutch flyer Wildschut who levelled easily.

Town's best moments came too far from goal and the revolutions of little Welsh feet saw little given, until a simple challenge by the line was enough to see another booking. The game didn't really shift back into our favour as the now buoyant Latics made themselves heard and drummed home their desire for a lead.

Pitman was then afforded a neat chip. Nodding past the last man, the clear foul by the last man went unpunished,. The high boot swinging at the striker's head a moment before not ignored. Another yellow in a game of bad tempers, bad decisions by too many people and a bad atmosphere looming over the 9k or so looking on.

The ref was booed off at half time, before then he managed to give Town more reasons to believe they might profit from the selection gamble of so many pacey players. Williams' lashed against the post after one of several setpieces had seen glancing headers and shots blocked, volleyed high or smashed clear. He put the ball in a second time to see it well handled but plenty felt not by the keeper. The resultant confusion and confrontations saw the glovesman booked and nothing doing.

It had been a baffling and often chest beating half of football. A supposed six pointer that had fingers and thoughts going in many more directions.

With the interval gone the drama continued as the fog descended further. The sky a leaden blanket that wore Town down. Whilst both goal scorers and sides looked keen to add to their lead, it was the hosts who would benefit first from the visual lottery that the game became.

Webster is a prodigious talent but always has a mistake in him. Having made a couple along with the rest of the defenders around him in the previous half, it was gutting to see him miss Wildschut. The winger had already beaten the captain and Sears who may have collided or at least colluded in a free run at goal. From an angle he beat Bart in heartbreaking fashion.

He had had similar runs finishing in crosses and sharp saves from Bart. Buxton at one point heading cleanly at the Pole who on one occasion also sent a skidding ball high into the air from the floor such was his Saturday acrobatics in a valuable performance.

Town meanwhile switched the youngster Dozzell and Williams for Bru and McGoldrick. The formation changed little but the shape and approach did. In the chaos of thickening fog on the pitch and blood off of it, at times McGoldrick and Pitman looked like two strikers but rarely a partnership for stiffer but equally shapeless Town.

When the lead came so did the protests. A dozen or so had dirty words for Mick. Half again then set about Marcus. Town quickly drove forward once more through Lawrence. Directing traffic towards the 18 yard box, Knudsen once more came over his shoulder. Lifting the ball over everyone, Dids and Skuse were the familiar faces giving Town a new look as relief splashed across them. Who else but Pitman would crash home from inside the box? It was a delightful assist from the prominent no.10.

Hostilities ceased. 500 blues fired up and spat out the chant made famous by the hosts. Shivering and joyous, it was our man who was indeed on fire. A glowering set of natives disappeared and not just because of the conditions.

Ward replaced Sears who like many of his colleagues had the kind of game that showed what he could do, even if he didn't get all he deserved from his labours. The sub was like for like in every sense. His speed down the right stretched a team looking to restore the lead and gave ours hope of doing the same.

As the last 15mins came into soft focus, the game was in a third and final act of Ipswich's impetus. Ward received the ball not once but twice from Bru who struggled to win possession with some soft and silly fouls, but used it well when he got it. Webster too lofted a lovely effort to the former Spur who either took one touch too many before shooting tamely or crossing poorly. With Pitman having a brief stab at a trilogy, his efforts had been good, bad and lastly ugly as he fired well off target with his final chance of the game.

It was 3rd time lucky though for Ward, as for the third time he ran freely. A beautifully lifted cross came to McGoldrick who was all on his own. Lifting his head and hundreds of others' he looked to take the 3rd goal and all 3 points with a wonderful finish, kissed in off the post.

Thanked by every man in turn, handshakes and hugs aplenty as our left back ran behind the goal to frantically gesture and join in the celebrations the other side of the hoardings. With two minutes left, and four added on there were half a dozen reasons to fear half a dozen goals.

Play resumed and so did the fear and fury and feeling of hope as all light had gone apart from the rows of halogens hazily trimming the tops of the side stands where we really couldn't see them sneaking out or not.

Town's resurgence saw Pitman cannily playing balls into the corners as not enough team mates supported him with options. Nipping at his heels came studs as well as time in slower and slower increments. When Lawrence did the same, he was not for the first time fouled. Another booking came, curiously for the Welshman, and with the scent of dissent all over it as the attacker bit too.

Very rarely will you witness a game like today. Full of everything and yet maybe meaning nothing. The players heartily greeted the supporters in triumph. But there was no fist pump. A shake of the hands and cold shoulder from Chambers. It could mean everything, it might mean nothing. Some questions answered, but many more forthcoming.

Oh what fun it is to see, Ipswich win away. Home fans meanwhile milled across the surrounding industrial site contemplating a return to the third tier. Rust, ruin and rubbish greeted them in daylight and unseen in darkness as one mused a parting just in earshot "We'll not make it back". McCarthy and Ipswich meanwhile must be looking elsewhere. Whatever your views, whether today warrants tissues for one eye or two, we needed this.

Merry Christmas. Everyone.

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