Heartbreak in Soul Country

Wigan (A) - FA Cup Round 2 - 6th December 2025

Photo: Ian Allington

It was giving Barnsley 2022 vibes even before the game: the feeling that, after a promising start, this was a season that was at risk of coming off its hinges; an upper-mid-sized Cup following enjoying a change of winter scenery; a team that could underperform one week, but match the best sides in League 2 the next; a boisterous, festive end; and a significant elevation behind the goal giving a cinematic visual effect to proceedings.

No one could be surprised, then, that it matched the epic nature of the spectacle, and the tragic (in a sporting sense) conclusion.

The first half didn’t promise much, from either side. Barrow were, typical of late, passive, aiming to contain an in-form home side, with Murray looking particularly dangerous. Suddenly, a goal. A couple of corners in front of the Barrow end, and from the second, Stanway scuffed a punch and an easy header deflated the noise slightly (but not fatally). I’m not the sort of observer who thinks keepers need to come and catch anything and everything, that punching the ball away is effeminate and a sure sign that the game has, in the modern parlance, gone. Goalkeepers have a huge advantage over everyone else in the penalty area, so they might as well use it, and punching is a calculated risk when catching is more fraught. Think of punches in the same way as you would a header; no one castigates Raglan when he doesn’t trap the ball and neatly find a teammate direct from a corner. When the punch is missed, however, it does look daft, but no more than that.

There was a half shout for a penalty at the other end, and from a distance, it looked givable. Maybe that’s too much of a stretch at finding another parallel with Barnsley. Half time came and went in a blur of catch-ups, rushed pisses, and informal childcare arrangements. I made a note to get my eyes tested as I failed to identify the Wigan mascot as a pie.

And then, it happened. An entirely different team in shocking yellow surfaced. The same personnel; a very different outlook and approach to Wigan and to the task in front of them. It would be tempting to pin the turnaround on the Williams challenge on Francois (he’s off the pitch, play on), but in truth I think it was already happening. Barrow were simply five or ten yards in advance of where they had sat in the first period. Risky with the players Wigan had, and the relative lack of pace in our defence, but just what the travelling 1,575 needed, and we responded. Wigan failed to adapt and a clever looping ball from Gordon found Whitfield who had a relatively simple task of teeing it up and hoping there would be someone to slide it home. So often this season opposition penalty areas have suffered from the same sort of underpopulation as the Australian outback; not today as a hitherto quiet Earing sent us potty. The single best move of the match.

There was only one team in it now, and we were pushing and probing, setting up camp high in the Wigan half. The occasional home break threatened, but the luck was with us. A series of corners were launched in by McCann (what a signing he’s been), and the defenders in blue found enough limbs between them to repel the efforts that resulted. Until all of a sudden they couldn’t, and a colossal Canavan imposed his will upon the ball, nodding it where no keeper could get. It gets hard to describe what happens to an away end in circumstances like this. There must have been a certain small percentage of us who, like me, opted on this occasion to stare wide-eyed at the tumult; others, no doubt, will have thrown themselves upon each other; and still more will be huggers and jumpers (that’s normally me). It seemed like we would spend the remaining six minutes just doing this. But sadly we couldn’t and more or less as soon as we settled back down, Wigan equalised. The solidity we had in the final knockings of 24/25 has either so far evaded us this season, or been lost to the wind entirely (depending on your outlook). Another short salvo of Wigan corners resulted in every Barrow player trying to address the ball, and as it squirted out to an unmarked Calum McManaman red flags were raised. A retreating defender, fearing a shot, played a couple of players onside and the ball was nodded in.

It’s still too painful to fully relive the rest. I never go into penalty shoot-outs with any hope, even though we have an OK record. Dover at home in the Trophy was a touchstone moment for me, and this might haunt the younger lot in a similar way; so much hard work to get back in the game, so to lose it like that will leave a mark. Neither Jackson’s nor Williams’ pens were bad: you can see the logic of MJ trying to roof it, after Jacko’s had his somehow clawed out by Tickle. Like Stanway’s early punch; it looks worse than it was.

The Mudhutter chap had prepared us on the podcast for a low crowd, but there was something particularly dismal about the atmosphere; an almost spectral single drummer beating out a death march, and very little else. It’s not their fault the stadium is too big for them, and Barrow at home won’t get many off the couch when, in the last decade and a half, they’ve won the whole bloody thing and been in the latter stages of the Cup more recently still.

From our perspective, the game highlighted the strengths and weaknesses that Whing needs to tune up for the rest of the campaign. We can certainly find the back of the net, but seemingly only when we need to. We have a resilience when going behind which must be built upon. But we also have a knack of switching off in defence, where we need a good deal of work. We have talented players, but a conservative approach to the first half of games.

You do wonder how this will affect the league games this week. Hopefully the positives can be accentuated and tired bodies soothed.

The pain won’t last forever, but it will linger a while yet.

November / December 2025

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