Heaven knows I’m miserable now
16/05/05 | by Nick Miller

This review of the season hasn’t exactly turned out as I planned. I wanted to write about the positive aspects – reasons to be cheerful, as Ian Dury once said. So the plan was to say "Yeah it’s been miserable, but here are my Top 5 plus points". Trouble is, I couldn’t think of any. After sitting in front of my computer for several hours over three evenings and mulling over the possibilities at work for what seemed like eons, I had nothing. Possibly Commons and Perch, but that’s about it.

I tried to be upbeat, I really did. Throughout the past ten months I’ve tried to remain positive and optimistic, only to have my hopes and dreams crushed like a crisp in Joe Kinnear’s back pocket.

This season has contained a series of new lows. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Preston would score another header at Deepdale, or Lizzy the Derby fan would ask, "How did Forest do this weekend? We won...", or I’d study the match programme to find that my fervent prayers had not been answered and Alan Rogers was still on the squad list.

I think I’ve said "That’s the worst I’ve seen them play for years" on about seven or eight occasions this season and genuinely meant it – and this from someone who has only been able to get to 15 or so games this year. This has been by a long, long way the worst season since I saw my first game at the City Ground in on a cold December afternoon in 1988 (we lost 1-0 to Wimbledon, I think Vinnie Jones scored – I was hooked). The only comparable campaign was 1992/93, when we weren’t used to this relegation lark.

So in the absence of any positives, here are my Top Five New Lows that I’ve experienced this season:

Brian – How could this not be the lowest point? Enough said.

Kinnear – I really don’t like comparisons between the Forest of today and the Forest of yesteryear, but when Brian’s achievements and qualities were everywhere in September, it made me feel a little bit embarrassed. Of course, at that time it wasn’t clear what a complete balls of the club he was in the process of making. At that stage, I think most people were confident we’d pick up, despite the concerning ‘girth’ of many of the players and the lack of any kind of coherence, skill and confidence from anyone but Andy Reid. 

I remember Kinnear saying that in Morgan and Dawson we had the two best centre-backs in the division, which was probably true; so what’s your excuse for shipping 50 odd goals in 27 games Joe? If the defensive organisation wasn’t bad enough, the selection decisions were even more baffling: Rogers on the left wing (if I had my way he wouldn’t be anywhere near the pitch, but that’s a moot point) when Kris Commons was getting splinters in his arse? Starting the Sheep game with Evans on the left and Reid in the middle? Persistence with Jess and Impey? Make no mistake, he is the reason we’re in the Third Division.

Derby – I was there at Pride Park. I say it as if it’s some form of medal; some great battle that we fought and lost, but we can be proud to say we were there. I don’t even want to talk about it anymore. And this was "just another game".

If relegation wasn’t bad enough, the very real prospect that Derby could be a full two divisions above us is simply too hideous to comprehend. Just today, Lizzy the Derby fan told me she was genuinely sorry that Forest had gone down – and she means it. I replied that I wished I was big and mature enough to wish the Sheep the best of luck in the play-offs, but I’m not; I hope they lose horribly. Preferably to an offside, 96th minute goal that rebounds in of Peschisolido’s arse. Or a rogue coffee cup. Sorry Lizzy.

Johnson – The demise of David Johnson this season has been just so, so sad to watch. I don’t buy the theory that he was never a good player and just had a lucky season in 2002/03. His touch, movement and finishing were those of a class act, not a lucky one. In truth I don’t think he ever recovered from his injury in the play-off season – he was rushed back, and lost a yard or five of pace, and is now on the transfer list. His chronic lack of confidence, lack of fitness and lack of poise represent the hollow shell of the striker he used to be.

Capitulation – Crewe. Coventry. Plymouth. No fight. No pride. No passion.