Finding solace in a season of nonsense
06/05/04 | by Neil Heath
I was on holiday with Niki and her parents, Neville and Teresa. My Dad already lives in Marbella – and no, he’s neither a gangster, nor filthy rich. He is, however, only one of two Reds fans in the town, the other being Billy Rodriguez from Mapperley. We watched the Sunderland game in a sports bar on the beach. As Forest fans, me, Dad and Niki were glued to the set; Neville, a Norwich City fan, sat as a critical and impartial observer; Teresa - not the biggest football fan on the planet - sat with her back to the TV; Hayley, meanwhile, wondered where her sausage and chips were.
After Marlon and Matthieu did the business, I remember feeling pleased that we’d won, but concerned at the same time. Remember what usually happens when we start a season so well? We get relegated - with the exception of the excellent 1994/95 season. However, I quickly dispelled this fear: “Nah, we wouldn’t get relegated in a million years” - how close we actually came!
Players and pundits have been saying it’s been a season to forget, but I don’t want to. Perversely, I’ve actually enjoyed some of it. Sure, I’ve repressed the bad days, but I’ll cherish those golden moments. I sound mad, but they do exist! I’ve got two favourites. Both include my player of the season. No not Andy Reid... Gareth Taylor.
The reason being, well, we all love a donkey at Forest don’t we? But seriously, the man’s taken so much stick off everyone, but still he came up with the goals that kept us up. I stuck up for Taylor repeatedly throughout his bad patch, here’s my reasoning: I’d be spraying the ball all over the place if 20,000 people were telling me I was doing a shit job. Just give him time, I kept saying.
My best-mate John, who now lives in Hertfordshire, came up for the Walsall game. Before the match he suggested Taylor should be melted down for glue. After the game, and Taylor’s subsequent winners at Wimbledon and Sheffield United, John now claims he "f**king loves the bastard". The silence that greeted Taylor’s arrival on the pitch that day conflicted greatly with the euphoria that greeted his equaliser. How brilliant that it was he who got it - a personal triumph, and one in the eye for those that kept telling him he was shit.
My second golden moment is another of Taylor’s starring roles. As the seconds ticked away, a disappointing 1-1 draw against Bradford looked likely. But out of nowhere Taylor flung himself at Andy Reid’s cross. In my memory I don’t see this goal as a continuous moment, I see it in three snapshots. The first, Taylor goes for the header; the second, it hits the net; the third, he celebrates with the whole Forest team in front of us in the Trent End, his face contorted with delight. It was a goal that seemingly took two days to hit the net, and miraculously looped over the melee of bodies around the box, and the goalkeeper.
If you’re not convinced by my suggestion that Gareth Taylor should be player of the season, here’s another reason. After the whistle had gone in the 3-2 victory over Crystal Palace, one of their players confronted Taylor in the centre circle - seconds later he spat in his face. Taylor simply wiped the spittle away, gave him the finger and walked away smiling - top man.
It’s been an emotionally draining season - I never slept so well as after we assured our survival at Ipswich - and during bad times moments of joy are amplified. That’s why my two favourites moments of this season will always live with me.