Sleeping
with the enemy (Part Three)
28/03/03 | by Ivan Murfin
November
20, 2002, an envelope arrives. It contains two half-season
tickets. Possessions that would be guarded with fanatical passion
and periodically thrust into the faces of certain members of the
family, or the herd as they would come to be known.
In later weeks they would form an integral part of an almost
obsessive routine prior to a match: put the Forest shirt on (yes,
it became first and foremost on the Christmas wish list), check
tickets, put shoes on, check tickets, find wallet, check tickets,
get mobile, check tickets, get into car, check tickets, and so
on... How many of you get halfway to the ground and have an
unbearable need to check you have those bloody tickets?! The same
mentality some of us have with regards passports and airline
tickets, well the season ticket comes just as high up on my list.
The first match was undoubtedly a big affair. Pompey, the league
leaders and our adversary at the first match of the season, which
we all know the outcome.
The outcome of the home match was almost equal to that, with
Forest playing below their standard and offering Pompey a victory
that at other times they wouldn't have even dreamed of.
Not a great start for my comeback; least of all to get back home
facing a herd of sheep-shaggers gloating over the fact, even
though they themselves had gone down to the Royals.
The following game did not do anything to resolve the
disappointment of Pompey. Walsall at home; the bogie team. One
was beginning to wonder if I had brought some sort of Jonah to
the team - hes a curse he is!
It was now becoming a two-way thing. If the Reds had a bad result
I could only hope that the Sheep would follow suit. Given their
total demise this season there have not been many occasions where
I had to worry.
It became a battle within the family, but as Forest maintained
their position within the top six - albeit to by the back door
way on some occasions due to favourable results from other
contenders - the prideless pussies began to languish. There was
talk of just a couple of wins and they would force their way back
into play-off contention, but to my delight in all my smugness
this was never going to happen. The fact that I had to listen day
in day out to their ramblings of their day to day experiences,
put up with seeing Dreby clothing all over the house (the wife
actually looks like something off a Ribena advert when wearing
that gross purple track suit), would have been even harder to
bear had they actually been playing well!
So one half-season ticket and all to show was one loss and one
draw, the feeling of bringing bad luck to the CG was to prevail.
Still the atmosphere in the Upper Bridgeford was proving to be a
consolation. And it would get better.
The next game against Coventry was to convince me that my return
to the fold wearing the Garibaldi Red was probably one of my more
inspirational decisions, but it was to begin with a near
disaster.
The morning of the game I had followed my usual pre match warm up
of switching my attention between Soccer AM on TV and
the Forest Forum on my laptop, unceremoniously sprawled out over
the floor with my self struggling for comfort for the best view
of both.
It was when I stood up that I realised that due to sitting on my
leg I had lost all feeling and duly crashed straight back down to
the floor. A disgusting cracking noise from my foot and the pain
suggested that something serious had occurred. So serious, that
the next hour or so was spent crawling around on my hands and
knees.
Though I was sure the injury was serious, my first thoughts were
towards the game and getting ready. After numerous arguments with
the herd, it was with great relief that I drove away
from home towards Nottingham for the game.
The game itself was inspiring, the Forest I remembered from
glories past. The 1-1 draw, as Harty said, was the most one-sided
affair that most had ever witnessed. Forest, playing to their
strengths, passing along the floor with precision and
relentlessness. Watching Reidy bought back all the memories of a
certain god-like image we used to adore - John Robertson - and
the whole team displayed the same qualities that were preached by
the Messiah - Brian Clough.
The atmosphere was brilliant although the immense pain in my foot
curtailed over excitement and limited my activity during the
match. It was a struggle to walk from the car and even bigger
struggle to get back.
Next day I went to the hospital, I had broken a bone in my foot
and was to spend the next 4 weeks in plaster. The Doctor, who
suggested I had certainly not helped it by going to the match,
seemed mystified. He did not seem to understand the passion and
dedication that prevailed in my decision to go to the game,
although he admitted he had no interest nor knowledge of
football. You know, as soon as I saw, I knew he was a
Sheep-shagger.
Four weeks in plaster, still there was one thing to look forward
to... March 19, 2003!!