Once again I take an ill-deserved break in my daily work to scribble down a few words for LTLF. No-one will notice anyway, as writing is what I do for a living. I’m a copywriter. Which basically means I write meaningful or meaningless pieces from incomprehensible garble and techno-babble. It’s well enough paid, and means I can allow myself a few (a phrase much used to conceal the words ‘conspicuous amounts of’) beers now and then and manage the down payments on my mortgage. After all, I’m only in it for the money…

Money makes the world go round. You have it; you lose it; you earn it; you win it. No matter how you may look at it, money is necessary. And to what lengths do we not go to earn money? I was watching the game between Coventry and Burnley on Norwegian television this Saturday. We are fortunate enough that the NRK (Norway’s Beeb) have chosen to televise Nationwide Division One. The game was all right, but what I really picked up was one of the commentators saying that Burnley now had the financial backing from one of Britain’s richest people.

Burnley.... Rich.... The words somehow didn’t fit together. I remember reading about Burnley just escaping relegation to non-league football in 1987 when they beat Orient 2-1 at home in the old Division 4, and thus condemning Lincoln City to a year in the Conference.

In 1987, Forest ended at 8th in the First Division. Something has drastically changed. Last week, Alan Rogers completed a move to Leicester for small change. Bart-Williams looks set to leave the club at some point and if a Premiership club finally tables a reasonable bid, all the bright starlets are up for sale. Prospects of a brighter future are definitely about as bleak as Norwegian weather in November.

Some six or seven years ago I moved to Oslo. About the same time, the biggest club in Oslo, Vålerenga IF, faced bankruptcy. There were no funds what-so-ever present, and credits would not be extended. So all the fans, which must be said to be the most devoted fans in Norway, scrambled to the club's rescue. They collected money, sold T-shirts and raised funds in a fashion more appropriate in the times of imminent attack from outer space. In the end, the funds they had raised saved the club, and the enthusiasm generated by this most unselfish deed gave investors an idea. Two big-time stock exchange players put heaps (by Norwegian standards) of money into the club, allowing for purchases of new players and a more ambitious wage-bill. Things didn’t go well, as internal strife crippled the club, but now they are back in the Norwegian Premiership and the financial situation is stable.

My point? Saving Nottingham Forest. The club has fans. Everywhere. I am Norwegian, and I’m a Forest fan. I’d be happy to chip in to save the club that I for some strange, indeed incomprehensible, reason love. Would you?