If there’s one thing most fans can attest to, it’s that on the road, Reading are soft. It’s been that way for more seasons than I’d care to remember. We rarely take the game to opponents as if we truly want it. It’s like a fighter stepping into the ring already expecting defeat, so why bother swinging?
That’s not to say there’s no effort, but away from home, concede first and the odds tilt heavily to the hosts. And it’s not just the goals themselves, it’s the manner of them. They’re not usually worldies
or moments of creative genius. They’re scrappy: a lazy cross, a runner left untracked, switching off at the wrong moment, needless fouls.
This isn’t new. It happened under Paul Ince, under Ruben Selles and now under Noel Hunt. Football is always about moments, but these constant lapses expose a soft underbelly.
Mentally, this side looks riddled with fear. Not the fear of opponents, but the fear of making mistakes. And that fear creates mistakes. Confidence should prevent them, but confidence is what’s missing. It’s a vicious cycle – and digging out of it is proving near impossible.
The fear comes from a litany of timid defeats, but it’s on the management to fix. The talent is probably there, but belief isn’t. Wycombe Wanderers showed it clearly: we fought back from 1-0 down to lead 2-1, and instead of finishing strong, we retreated, lost our nerve and, inevitably, conceded late.
History tells us Reading don’t assert themselves mentally in these situations. They fall into default mode: doubt then collapse. And it’s not just in the closing stages. We rarely start games with intent. We tiptoe into matches, hesitant, standoffish. Other sides manage to press from the first whistle – so why can’t we?
For me, this comes back to Noel Hunt. His post-match interviews have an air of polite disappointment, thin on true fire in the eyes. No anger, no real accountability sought, just a soft sigh. If that same tone carries into the dressing room, no wonder the players look apologetic rather than galvanised.
Of course, no one’s asking him to smash the place up, but right now, it’s all meek and mild. And that’s exactly what we see on the pitch: too nice, too forgiving, too easy to play against.
The bigger problem? They don’t yet look like a team. It’s still individuals thrown together rather than a unit fighting for each other.
That might be expected with so many new faces at Bearwood – but then, what’s being done to build that spirit? At home you sometimes see it. Away, it’s almost never there. Defeats feel expected; results are shocks, not standard.
Tactically, it doesn’t help either. Hunt refuses to mix up the midfield. There’s no enforcer, no disruptor. Lines get broken too easily and the defence is left exposed. The set-up never changes, home or away, as though sheer belief in our quality will carry us through. That’s not belief – that’s naivety.
Hunt is running out of time. Reasons are turning into excuses. What Reading need isn’t more understanding or sympathy. They need bite. They need belief.
Until that is instilled, every away day will remain the same: a waiting game for the inevitable.
