- Norwich City fans reflect on a season of “absolute madness.”
- Philippe Clement’s arrival marks a massive “sliding doors” turning point.
- The Canaries head to Hull united after five joyous months.
It says everything about the craziness of this season that players and supporters felt different levels of crushed-ness (if that’s even a word) last Saturday as the Canaries fell just short of taking their top-six push to the final day.
While Derby won on the same afternoon, Wrexham’s defeat on Sunday by Coventry meant a late winner for City would have still left the door ajar, however acutely.
Damn … there goes that feeling again.
But to even have that ‘what if’ feeling is just crazy, right? Absolute madness,
Nine points! You know when and what I mean.
And so to end the season on at least 65 says everything about the job that’s been done from within since the no-brainer decision was made to part company with Liam Manning. And that’s no disrespect intended toward Manning, who, as we know, was battling personal and family demons that are unimaginable.
It could have still gone wrong, of course.
Second tier? Seriously?
We could have ended up with Jon Dahl Tomasson and still, as we speak, be nipped up in readiness for a nerve-shredding final day. Worse still, we could have ended up with a Still and already be relegated.
For Norwich City, the initial phone call betwixt Ben Knapper and Philippe Clement, or more likely the agent of Philippe Clement, was the ultimate sliding doors moment.
Imagine if Clement’s agent didn’t even give Knapper the time of day on the basis of his client being uninterested in managing a second-tier team.
Or if Clement, still in rehab from the now-famous hip replacement, had decided it was still too soon to throw himself back into work.
Or, indeed, if Mrs Clement simply didn’t fancy living in East Anglia and all that comes with it.
If any of those had been an actual thing, we’d all have been denied five months of giddiness, the like of which, after our woeful autumn, we didn’t even dare imagine.
So joyful has it been, the River End has been on a five-month-long moan amnesty.
So much so, the “BOOT IT” bloke who sits but seven or eight seats from me in the Lower River End, has barely had an opportunity to unleash his catchphrase on Mad Vlad and his centre-backs.
And, unless my ears were deceiving me, the River End end of the South Stand broke into spontaneous song last Saturday, even as our season slipped away.
No one wants to play us…
So many firsts. So much pride and happiness.
No mention of Zoe Webber and Anthony Richens devious plan to uproot season ticket holders for no gain other than financial and spite.
And ‘Knapper Out’ – no longer a thing, as those we deemed unfit for purpose, under a new regime, proved to us all that, in fact, they do still have a purpose in a yellow and green shirt.
We’re together. United. And Big Phil is doing fist pumps with the players’ kids.
Things we never thought possible, now seem possible.
And another thing – teams don’t like playing Norwich City anymore. Hull City wouldn’t choose us to play on the final day, given the choice.
Things are different now. All in the space of five joyous months.
So… for the final time, I hope they give it a good go tomorrow for the magnificent travelling Y’Army, and I’m almost certain they will.
So thank you, Phil. Thank you, Stephan.
And, yes, you too, Ben. Nice work.
OTBC. CTID. And never mind the danger.
