Southampton 3-0 Blackburn

Eighteen unbeaten. Seven wins on the bounce. Three points off second. And if you weren’t at St. Mary’s on a Tuesday night to watch us dismantle Blackburn like flat-pack furniture, I genuinely feel sorry for you.

Right from kick-off, Rovers looked like a side that had read the pre-match scouting report, panicked, and decided their best strategy was to foul everything that moved. Sean McLoughlin picked up a yellow inside five minutes — five minutes — and Taylor Gardner-Hickman joined him in the book two minutes later. At that point, Blackburn’s tactical plan appeared to be “hack and hope,” which, spoiler alert, did not go terribly well for them.

With the visitors walking that disciplinary tightrope, we had all the space we needed to play. And play we did. Possession ticked along at a comfortable 59%, and the passing was slick, purposeful, the kind of football that makes you forget we’re even in this division. Cyle Larin opened the scoring on 24 minutes with the calm confidence of a man who’s been doing this all season. The Canadian is in absolutely ridiculous form right now — every time the ball drops to him in the box, you just know it’s hitting the net. St. Mary’s barely had time to finish celebrating before we were carving them open again.

Ryan Manning’s goal just before half-time was the cherry on top of a dominant first 45. Two-nil at the break, and honestly, the biggest surprise was that it wasn’t three or four. We peppered them with 16 shots across the night, seven on target, and their keeper made four saves that kept the scoreline vaguely respectable. Credit where it’s due — the lad earned his wages.

The second half was more of a controlled cruise than a relentless assault, and you could sense the squad managing the game intelligently. No need to go charging forward when you’re two up and the promotion race demands energy conservation for the run-in. But Cameron Archer clearly didn’t get that memo, because he came alive on 86 minutes to slam home the third and send St. Mary’s into full Tuesday-night euphoria. The 25,576 in attendance went home with sore throats and stupid grins.

Tactically, it was a masterclass in patience. We drew Blackburn into pressing, exploited the gaps their early bookings forced them to leave, and never once looked troubled at the back. Their three shots on target were more hopeful pokes than genuine threats. We were solid, composed, and — dare I say it — looking like a side that knows exactly where it’s going.

Seven wins in a row. Eighteen games unbeaten. Three points off automatic promotion. The table is tightening at the top, and we’re squeezing ourselves right into the conversation at exactly the right time of year. If this is what Tuesday nights in the Championship feel like, give me every single one of them.

Now, about Saturday…