Middlesbrough 0-0 Southampton

Well, that was 90 minutes of football that technically happened. Middlesbrough 0, Southampton 0. Not exactly one for the grandchildren, but you know what? I’ll take it. I’ll wrap it up, stick a bow on it, and carry it home like a slightly underwhelming Christmas present that might just turn out to be exactly what we needed.

Let’s be honest about what unfolded at the Riverside: we went to one of the most hostile grounds in the Championship, in the middle of the most absurd off-pitch circus since Bielsa was caught crouching in bushes with binoculars, and we came away with a clean sheet and everything still to play for. Spygate 2.0 had been brewing all week — the EFL charge, the media frenzy, Boro fans working themselves into a righteous froth — and the atmosphere was absolutely toxic. Thirty-two thousand Teessiders baying for blood before kick-off. Into that cauldron walked Tonda Eckert’s men, and they simply refused to blink.

Now, the stats make for grim reading if you’re the type who likes seeing your team actually have the ball. Possession? 36.4%. Shots on target? A grand total of zero. Corners? One. One solitary corner against their eleven. On paper, we were pinned back like a butterfly in a Victorian collector’s case. Boro peppered us with 21 shots and had the ball on a string for long stretches. But here’s the thing about shots — they have to go in, and our keeper made four saves that ranged from comfortable to “oh, thank the heavens.” Their five on target yielded precisely nothing.

The game plan was clear: sit deep, stay compact, frustrate, and let the Riverside crowd turn on their own. It’s not pretty. It won’t win any style awards. But it’s a play-off semi-final, and pragmatism is king. Larin picked up a yellow on 55 minutes — a bit of needle, a bit of bite — and Downes followed four minutes later, which had me momentarily gripping the armrest wondering if the discipline might crack. It didn’t. The lads held firm, soaking up pressure like a particularly stubborn sponge.

And then there was the post-match theatre. Eckert walking out of his press conference, refusing to engage with yet more spygate questions, insisting he had “nothing more to add.” Honestly? Good. Whatever the truth of it all, the man clearly decided the best response was to let the football do the talking — even if the football was whispering rather quietly on this occasion.

The beauty of a 0-0 away in a two-legged tie is that St Mary’s now becomes our fortress. No away goal for Boro to lean on. The second leg is ours to seize, with our fans behind us and the pressure squarely on them to come and get something on our patch.

Was it beautiful? Absolutely not. Was it boring? Parts of it, undeniably. Was it exactly the kind of streetwise, cynical, backs-to-the-wall away performance that gets teams promoted? Ask me after the second leg — but right now, it feels like we’ve stolen the advantage without Boro even realising it’s gone.