The last game of the season drew in a good crowd, well at least by current standards. It was clearly noticeable from where I sat in the Glebe that the attendance was a good one - the atmosphere was different; although it wasnt a good one, there was a different feel to it, a bit of a buzz that you get from a larger crowd. The Glebe was much fuller, and there were at least 6 people sitting on my row of 65 seats, so I knew I would have to get my cold cup of coffee in early.

Sadly, those who turned out, the 90 minutes that followed were absolutely dire, and not far from being as bad as games this season against Chesterfield, and away to Northampton. Bearing in mind that Wycomeb had proved their shitness by already finishing rock bottom and Posh had proven their second division class with a 4-1 win at Blackpool the week before, it was hard to imagine an entertaining match. Nothing to play for, apart from the two young Posh players who were told to have a go and show what they could do. sadly, neither took the opportunity to announce themselves as serious first team contenders for next season. Sean St Ledger looked like a young version of Phil Chappell, whilst Ryan Semple did two wonderful skills, and then sadly disappeared for the rest of the game.

The Pisa Flag in all its glory

Posh started with Callum Willock and David Farrell up front, oh dear. Not what you wanted to see as a supporter. Faz, who has been close to outstanding since Christmas in his free role, was moved "up top" alongside the inconsistent Willock, who took this match to remind us of Wembley Posh's considered opinion of him. He was quite frankly useless.

The first half was so bad, Smallheath Posh read the Evening Telegraph from cover to cover, whilst I spent time discussing the missed opportunity to see Keane in concert 2 nights earlier, along with watching H mess up the drinks order. (Apparantly if you order a Mars bar, you get a coffee......) It was truly the most dull half of football I have witnessed since watching my daughter's team in the Ladies Cup Final recently.

Burton returned at the back alongside Branston and young St Ledger, and it was the returning bad boy of Posh who threatened to liven up events early doors with a good punch up with some useless visiting player, but the ref decided against the suitable red card and Mr Burton had the opportunity later on to prove that his wonderful free kick a few weeks ago (against whom I forget) was indeed a fluke.

Tyler was unemployed for much of the match, as Branston and Burton kept the 2 visiting featherweights easily at bay, whilst the Posh midfield of Legg and Woodhouse were overrun by the Wycombe 4, as Semple spent the game on the right wing waiting for a pass. But only after he had left his marker looking at thin air early on, as he flicked the ball one side of his man and sprinted the other side to collect the pass to himself in the second highlight of the match.

Newton and Williams as usual partolled the wide positions, but the game didnt call them in to much action. Brown seemed intent on drawing Woodhouse into a fight, which the posh player refused, but put his usual share of hard tackles in for good measure, and was clearly the best player on view. Faz up front was dreadful, and shouldnt have been selected to play there, whilst Willock wasnt much better.

Half time gave us the chance to have the last beer in the Glebe of the 2004/05 season, and watch the other scores roll in. Far more exciting than what was going on outside. I even managed to speak to the father of a lad I want in my Under 15's for next season, so it has to be said the 15 minute interval was the best period for me personally.

Back to my seat, having lost Smallheath, and the dross of the first half continued on. Only the highlight of a fantastic Woodhouse left footed volley from the edge of the box managed to stir me to my feet. It was a moment of pure class, well out of context with the rest of the game.

Off went Faz for his deserved ovation for this seasons contribution, sadly to be replaced by Clarke.

Off went Branston, possibly the last time in a Posh shirt, but hopefully not, to a rousing ovation - he has indeed been solid at the back, and on came Arber - a fair swap. St Ledger was given the full 90, and time to recoved from one or two schoolboy errors - including losing the ball whilst in comfortable possession; allowing a snail to overtake him; and falling over the ball whilst trying to manouvre into midfield. It was not an impressive run out for the youngster, and without wanting to be critical, he aint gonna get a game in front of what have already got in defence thats for sure.

Off went Woodhouse to a standing ovation - one man who has been superb since his arrival, and one very bright spot in an otherwise depressing season all round.

Posh sat off their opponents, and made Wycombe look like Real Madrid, passing the ball around for minutes on end, without any end product.

The clock ticked away, the announcements about staying off the pitch sounded out from the mono speakers, the fans gathered pitchside, and true to form, Wycombe satisfied their vocal 400 travelling fans with a goal from the last touch of the game. The ref was so pleased for them, he blew up straight away. Thank the Lord for small mercies.

David Seaman

On ran the fans, quite why I dont know, but its a traditional thing to do, and they gathered in front of the directors seats, hoping to say well done for something, possibly for staying up, but certainloy to show their loyalty to the club that doesnt really do very well in deserving it.

Out trooped the players, looking somewhat embarrassed at the rollcall, and the shirts came off and were thrown into the crowd. Some lucky bugger is walking around in the number 7 shirt. Bastard.

Fry and Gould made it out, the fans sang Bobbys name, and didnt say a word to Fry, who looked a little lost up there. It was all a little surreal, and moments later, the players trooped back in for a beer probably. Something i wasnt up for, after a mad mad night in Leeds the night before. It was home to watch some decent football on tv, and to celebrate Real Madird handing the Spanish League title to the mighty Valencia. Happy days.