I’ve been selfish this season.
When relegation was inevitable, I wondered what I would do. How would I support a club I’ll never get to see?
The whole idea of relegation isn’t exactly comprehendible for many American sports fans. Evan the massive soccer fans, the ones who parade around MLS venues longing for an American version of relegation still don’t understand it.
In fact, those same fans who say, “What this country really needs is relegation” are still the ones supporting the Tottenhams, Chelseas and Manchester Citys of the Premier League. “How could you root for a bad team like Norwich?”
Because relegation or promotion, Norwich City is my club. It’s our club. Where they go, we follow. And this campaign the Canaries have taken us to the second-tier of English football. They’ve given us two different managers who’ve given us two different sides. For as much as I supported Neil Adams through the 2014 portion of the season, it’s apparent this side would’ve seen automatic promotion under Alex Neil. But there’s no need to dwell on what could’ve been. There’s only time to look to the future.
The Libertines, while singing about non-football related matters, explain this campaign best.
“All the highs and the lows and the to’s and the fro’s they left me dizzy oh won’t you please forgive me…”
Yet there’s no reason to forgive City for relegation. If anything, they’ve provided the most enthralling, romantic season possible. From league leaders to midtable fallout to winning streak to last second gasps worthy of a “Cardiac Canary” title, Norwich have given me a reason to fall in love with the team again.
When automatic promotion was no longer possible, it took a Herculean effort over the hated rival Ipswich Town, in the club’s biggest pairing with the little neighbours.
Now, they take us to Wembley. To the national stadium. To the centre of English football for one Monday afternoon. To the Premier League, with pockets stuffed with pounds. Or back to the Championship, with regrets of what could have been.
As a football fan, it doesn’t get better.
So Monday morning here in my Cincinnati, Ohio, living room, new members will join the Yellow Army for the Big Hurrah.
For others curious why this game matters, I’ve told them it’s the equivalent of a Super Bowl for the paupers. It’s for the little clubs trying to be massive once more.
But this isn’t about us. It’s about you.
It’s about the fans that stuck around for the dreaded 4-0 smashing against Monday’s opposition away.
It’s about the fans that cried out “Top of the League at Portman Road” back in August.
It’s about the people of Norwich—the fans—the Pride of Anglia. Today is for you.
Before kickoff, we knock on the door where we once called home. After the match, we’ll return to that rightful place. Our Prmoised Land
It’s taken 30 years, but Norwich is back at Wembley. It’ll come with a trophy lift and all.
This is your day, Yellow Army.
It’s time to kick it off…
