A season with the enemy
19/05/03 | by Ivan Murfin

They came crawling out from under their rocks, dragged themselves out of the gutter and appeared from behind their coveted excuses for a pathetic season. Who?, Dreby fans of course! The Reds for all their promise and all our hopes had gallantly fallen to the Blades at Bramel Lane in one of the most amazing games of the season.

They crawled out to gloat. For they had nothing else. For the first time since March 19 they used our defeat as a sense of purpose, enlightenment and joy. A season of dire for the sheepshaggers, had culminated in them shouting with delight in the pubs and clubs around the excuse of a city at our defeat in the play-off semi-finals.

The what? The play-off semi-finals. They themselves managed 18th place, 22 points behind the Trees. Plenty for them to shout about!!

The enemy is still here, they did gloat for a while, not for long. The Forest scarves, mugs, badges, programmes still adorn the house, but at least they adorn with pride.

Enough of them, they can smirk, as we will do next season, and the seasons beyond that. They are a club in desperate times, playing staff and non-playing staff reduced by a faceless, cowardly board.

Forest once again have achieved their rightful place as the team of the East Midlands. Forget the Fester, to qualify you have to play football, they way it was meant to be played. Fester will learn the hard way.

What a season, predictions of mid-table had been swept away well before Christmas. At times there was talk of automatic promotion. Some topsy turvy displays and in-experience from a bunch of mere boys meant that was not to be, not this season.

But the football... the football was a joy. Harty's passing game, football how it’s meant to be, following the traditions of the one and only Clough.

Coventry 1-1 at home, in terms of points, disappointing, in terms of sheer quality football, excellent.

Crystal Palace 2-1, quality football.

Norwich 4-0, quality football.

Ipswich away 4-3, quality football.

Dreby 3-0, quality football.

There’s so many more, West Ham, Leicester at home, Stoke, Sheff Weds at home.

There were the let downs too, the silly defeats, the frustrating draws.

Then there were the players. Not the odd shining light, Forest played 22 players or so over the season, every one a shining light.

The ones to mention are probably the ones we thought at the beginning of the season would fade into obscurity. They have now become heroes. Reidy, Marlon, Jimbo, Gazza to name a few.

There have been the ones we knew would do the business, it’s the way they have done it that has astounded us all, Daws and DJ and Dessie.

Their love of Forest is there for all to see, fists on chests, kissing badges, sitting with fans at away games. No prima donnas, no whingers, no shirkers.

Harty, a seemingly quiet man, never one to criticise the players, at least not in public, no dirty linen here. Push him and he’ll react, he stood before the FA because he believed in fairness and everything that is right. An idealist and a realist, proud of his boys. A man who believes in fair play: we don’t dive, we don’t roll around on the floor in dramatics that would adorn Broadway, we don’t time waste, we don’t Hoof, we don’t cheat. We play the beautiful game.

The fans, tremendous, home and away. Critical yes, passionate yes. Those of us who have seen it before, we know what’s coming. I can feel it, others can feel it. It may take time, but before long pre-season friendlies against the likes of Ajax will be a warm up for the real thing later in the season.

In November I bought an half season, my first season ticket in ages. Bandwagon? No, I saw what I had seen before, but not for a long time, a light, a sense of purpose, a belief, and more important than anything else... I saw promise. I’ll be at the front of the queue come season ticket sales.

I’ll be there again with all my new friends, alongside my 18 year old son, who ironically is watching a team that is unnervingly similar to the one I used to watch when I was 18, in 1978.

Come on you Reds!