You can never escape your football supporting roots. From the fateful day as a kid that you start going to matches and getting behind your team, there’s this unbreakable cord that binds you together for life. Sometimes you’re bound tightly; at others you think you might have escaped, that you’re finally free to live a normal life that’s not dominated by James Alexander Gordon’s pronouncements at 5pm on a Saturday afternoon. But that unbreakable bungee binding you and your team together always pulls you back.
Unless you choose to follow one of the “big” teams then your football-supporting life is likely to have more downs than ups – there are a lot of teams and only a few can win trophies or be promoted each season. But, if supporting a less fashionable outfit what you find is that the highs can be such great moments, largely because of their rarity.
I suppose I’m saying football is an addiction and you always want one more great hit. You have no right to expect you’ll get it, but the problem is there’s always hope. There’s always a secret belief you dare not speak that this season could be the one when everything clicks and you taste success again.
The great thing is that everyone starts every season equal, even if it’s with the classic Eurovision nil point (unless your team’s recently been in receivership). However bad your previous season has been (and there’s been little for a Derby fan to shout about for some time) you can always believe the new one will bring a surprise. Success in football is a lot about building and maintaining momentum – get on a good run and who knows where it will take you.
Derby County never begin a season well and are always playing catchup. Last season, after another dreadful start I was determined not to let the team’s performances get in the way of my day-to-day life. Then we had a brilliant run late in 2010 when we were unstoppable, playing the most attractive football seen at Pride Park for a decade. The bungee cord connecting me to my team reeled me right back in and I found myself going to games home and away. The club stormed from nowhere up to 4th place and I convinced myself promotion was just around the corner. How did things turn out? We finished a miserable 19th in the table, just three places above the drop zone.
Thankfully I spent much of the summer working in North America, still largely a football-free zone (especially when it comes to news of the Championship as opposed to the “English Premier League” or “EPL”). I arrived home, thoroughly jetlagged, about 2pm on Saturday 6th August, just an hour before the new season kicked off. Having avoided it all summer, I turned on Radio 5Live and Derby were the main commentary game.
It’s impossible to sleep on planes so by the time I reached home I’d been awake for almost forty hours. I crawled to my bed with the radio blaring out close to my ear. Fighting and failing to stay awake, the last thing I heard was us going a goal behind. I drifted off to sleep certain in the knowledge of another season of disappointment that I should do my best not to bother about.
The beeps of various texts woke me up. The Rams were victorious. Beating Birmingham City, a team in the Premier League last season, was no mean feat. I felt that elastic band yanking me and my team close together. Roll on Tuesday and the chance to get a second victory under our belts quickly in the Carling Cup at home against lower league Shrewsbury. What could go wrong? My excitement was mounting…
At half-time the score was Derby County 0 Shrewsbury Town 3. I blamed myself – I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. Saturday’s result was clearly a fluke. If only I could I should cut this giant bungee cord and walk away. But then we come back. Not enough to achieve a glorious morale-boosting victory, but a final score of 2-3 shows at least there’s hope.
This Saturday, away at Watford we win again. It’s backs to the wall stuff built on dogged defence but the boys are playing as a team – playing for each other. It’s only two wins but when you’re a Rams fan that equals the best league start since 1973 when Nigel Clough was already sitting in the dugout but his dad was in charge. We were third in the The League Table and only below Brighton in third by that narrowest of possible margins – alphabetical order. I’m well and truly back in the fold, the bungee wrapped tightly around me, binding me and my team close.
Win on Wednesday at Blackpool and we could be in an automatic promotion place. Hope springs eternal.
Visit the Keith Mansfield or Johnny Mackintosh (my football-playing hero's books) websites.
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