Norwich City’s 3-1 win over Blackburn was not without its good fortune or controversy, but having endured a ‘seasonus horribilis’ last time out we’ll take anything that’s on offer this time round.
That we’re currently playing some decent, attacking football along the way is a bonus. As ridiculous as it sounds, some are even describing it as fun.
Our three seasons in the sun (aka the Premier League) had their moments, and the thrill of locking horns with, and beating the likes of Arsenal, Manchester United are about good as it gets being a Norwich supporter. But those moments were fleeting.
The norm became a slow, dreary, painful and ultimately futile plod towards the 40 point threshold.
Season one was okay. Buoyed by the bounce of promotion and a leader who knew little fear we fared quite well. There was even a modicum of entertainment to be enjoyed. But still, between the thrills, was an overriding desire to limp to said target. We did so with a little room to spare.
Season two and the cracks were beginning to show. Under new management, with second season syndrome kicking in, and with the momentum tailing off it became an undiluted slog. But it wasn’t all Chris Hughton’s fault, as some will have us believe. We were plankton in a pool inhabited by some massive sharks and the outcome was almost inevitable.
That we survived was a near miracle. In financial terms we were still punching above our weight.
Year three and the wheels came off. Disunity on the terraces, disunity on the pitch, a squad that collectively performed lesser than the sum of it parts and a slow, dreary painful plod that failed to reach its destination.
It was excruciating. No-one of a yellow and green persuasion could have possibly enjoyed it – even though, paradoxically, we strained every sinew to stay up.
Yet still we all viewed relegation as a disaster. The worst. ‘A fate worse than death’ was how City chief executive described it. And in terms of finances he’s probably right. But really?
Of the 25,000 who departed Carrow Road last night, I can’t imagine you’ll find a single supporter who would agree with McNally’s sentiment. The enjoyment has returned.
It wasn’t perfect of course. Neither defence was water-tight. Passes occasionally went astray. Alan Shearer and Danny Mills would have found plenty to pick holes in. But it set the pulse racing. The adrenalin flowed. It felt good.
And this Saturday City supporters have the small matter of a local derby against Ipswich to look forward to. Another element that’s been missing over the three seasons when we were unwelcome guests at that party for the elite.
There is a chance we could lose of course – such is life in the second tier – and I may feel slightly differently then (it’s a football fan’s prerogative), but still the vibrancy and hope will remain. And besides, we’ll do it all again in February.
This Championship lark really isn’t so bad after all.
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