Shemmy Płacheta cut in-field, his low, fidgety crouching gate was a sign that he was agitating to find some space to do more damage. His movement had already rattled Cardiff’s unnerved defensive line. This was a good day for the Pole, an alignment of the physical, technical, psychological and even spiritual. This is the life of a winger, particularly one as prodigiously quick as Płacheta; the alignments are brief; injury or fatigue, the loss of that inner courage to try and fail and try again, a disconnection of that atomised link between his brain, feet and the ball; these all lie ahead in a different time and place. One day we will holler our frustration at his ineffectiveness. But, that day is not today.

***

My last work meeting before Christmas was with a group of people discussing the challenges facing many large organisations. One of the group, a senior academic, chose not to say much. I suspected he was subscribed to the unspoken lore that the meeting should be brief in order to allow the holidays to begin. None-the-less, the conversation drifted; the problem we were discussing was fundamentally about ‘communication’, and then ‘leadership’ and then ‘culture’.

The academic unmuted himself and spoke slowly; ‘the thing with this kind of challenge is that they always end up being defined in increasingly general way until it becomes…’ he paused searching his vocabulary for the right word ‘…a bit bullshitty’. 

***

The alignment of Płacheta’s energies means he’s now relying on the temporal – the time needs to be right. Cardiff have become fatigued; they’re trailing badly to a team with the worst form in the league, their fans are on their back, to add insult to injury, both goals were scored by ex-Cardiff players. Mark Harris, whose looked lost in recent weeks has become energised, he drifts right stretching the Cardiff backline. Ruben Rodrigues, who has become too easily contained during our run of poor form, drives directly at the Cardiff defence pushing them back and opening a plain for Płacheta to move into. This perfect synchronicity presents an opportunity to do the unthinkable.

***

Three generations co-existed for a few hours at our house on Christmas day. There was more than sixty years between the oldest and youngest. There were wide-eyed children, teenagers lost between that innocence and their new reality, adult hosts who felt like they were running a cruise ship where they were the crew, caterers and entertainment all at the same time, and then there were the aged passengers who just want a bit of peace and quiet.

Everyone wanted to watch Gavin and Stacey. Despite this consensus, finding an alignment between our viewing preferences was challenging. Some wanted complete silence, some asked questions, others just wanted to quote the catchphrases like collecting bingo numbers. Some were long term fans, others more recently converted, some wanted to follow every line, others were double or triple screening with iPads and phones distracting from the TV. One of the septuagenarians didn’t understand the fuss and listened to Dire Straits, Enya and at one point the This Morning theme tune on YouTube at full volume on their iPad. 

We all shared the same goal, but how we were to achieve it differed greatly.

***

Płacheta was free to turn, despite being 30 yards from goal, his body shape shifted. Someone behind me who’d been berating him as a show pony with no end product shouted despairingly ‘Ah no, don’t shoot’.

He shot, the ball launched towards goal. Part Beauchamp versus Blackpool, part Oisin Smythe against Charlton. It arced high, towards the top right-hand corner beyond the defence, beyond the reach of the keeper. As the players stopped to watch the trajectory of the ball, the rumble from the crowd increased as the reality of what they were watching manifested. The keeper threw himself helplessly at the ball, but it was beyond his vector. It hit the net, Mark Harris’ hands raised onto his head, steadying his mind to allow him to process what he’d just seen. The crowd lifted as one and Płacheta arced away to take the applause as though he’d done was nothing.

While Shemmy rightly took the applause for his goal and performance, it was built on solid foundations. It’s easy to get lost in the ‘bullshitty’ nature of culture and a team’s DNA, it’s easy to agree your objective, but much harder to align everyone towards it in the same way. Culture and success has to be built on things which are real. Gary Rowett’s wise decision to play with Sam Long at right-back was symptomatic of an attitude to bring some fundamentals back into the team. Long will always be committed and never let you down. That has to be step one. Will Vaulks, who has struggled since his arrival probably had his best game by keeping things simple and allowing his confidence to build. Mark Harris, who has looked lost as he’s searched for the magical elixir of his form simply applied himself, chasing balls whether they were winnable or not. This revelatory simplicity was at the heart of him getting on the end of Płacheta’s cross for the opening goal. Likewise, Ciaron Brown’s header for the second was also born of reduced complexity.

To some extent, this performance was the archiving of our Wembley success. Although the feelings amongst those who were there still linger and will do for some time, we can’t rely on that alone to pick up points.

This wasn’t the removal of Buckingham’s legacy completely. His gift to Rowett is that the gap between fans and players is still bridgeable. What was most telling about Cardiff’s comeback, was the reaction of their fans. They’d already booed them off at half-time. The rift is clear and real. Their first goal raised a cheer, but even in the early evening gloom you could see it barely animated the fans. The second hardly raised the tension further. At the end, a handful of their players dutifully walked towards the North Stand to applaud the efforts of their following, but they were pushed back by the venom, some players simply turned and headed to the tunnel, others stood and applauded, but kept their distance. It’s clear they’re in big trouble, which is good to see. 

Let’s not get carried away, Gary Rowett’s arrival hasn’t saved us and Des Buckingham’s departure isn’t proof he was the problem, but there is a benefit to being new, to looking at things from the outside and to reinforce the foundations on which we’re built. It’s helpful for the players to feel like they’re being watched and judged and that they can’t simply hide in a morass of cultural ambiguity. It gives us a chance, which is what we need right now.