Morning all,
Just been thinking about the journey home last Saturday. One of the most emotionally mixed for many a year, and not just because the other 4 in the car were all slightly morose Evertonians. All 5 of us live around Chester and were listening out for goal news from Chester's game against Salisbury knowing a win would guarantee their position in the Conference Premier. With 4 minutes to go, Chester were leading 2-1, while their fellow relegation candidates, Herford, were drawing 1-1 at Aldershot. Then a first blow. Salisbury equalised. Come on, Aldershot. NO! Hereford take the lead. Chester throw the kitchen sink, hit the woodwork - but the game ends with their relegation.
When we hit the doo-doo Chester were being wound up. They re-built with fan's money and it took three back-to-back promotions to get to Conference Premier. They started badly, and then got worse. They bought in a new manager for the last few games and he came within a goal difference of 2 of keeping them up. How cruel.
Lots of us probably have second teams (Eastleigh is an obvious choice) and Chester have been mine for years. I know I'm a Saints fan as Saints are the only team that can hurt me - true love defined! I got over the disappointment personally very quickly, but obviously back home and meeting people I know who are dyed-in-the-wool Chester fans I found myself in counselor mode. The most common reaction was that non-football people "didn't understand". "I know no-one has died - it just feels like it" one of my mates at the gym said yesterday.
We surely all remember that summer of 2009, when we were seeing headlines suggesting Saints could fold, and may be forced to re-start in the Conference. OMG, the desperation to beat Burnley so that we might take the 10 point deduction immediately and know we could start the following season with a clean sheet - provided we survived. In the course of my conversation yesterday I was telling my mate how, when the announcement was made that Saints were screwed, I just took myself off down the garden and cried. It's pathetic, I know. I have a strong marriage, a great family and a wonderful life. What the hell was I doing. But it's what it does to us, and we know it's irrational but there it is.
Will Mauricio go; will Adam, Luke et al still be with us. These things matter to me as much as the next Saint. A club that lacks ambition would not have been beating Everton on Saturday. They'd have been happy to have been playing a local derby with Bournemouth, or seeing off the might of Yeovil. We've shown ambition in spades. Surely, the board must know how quickly the whole thing can fall apart. Our old fishy friends down the road provide a perfect example. The only way is not up - going down is equally likely. Standing still is not an option.
It's a big summer, that's true. But while watching Adam & Rickie win the World Cup and worrying about the future of Saints reflect on 2009, and think about what might have been - the stuff of nightmares!
Just been thinking about the journey home last Saturday. One of the most emotionally mixed for many a year, and not just because the other 4 in the car were all slightly morose Evertonians. All 5 of us live around Chester and were listening out for goal news from Chester's game against Salisbury knowing a win would guarantee their position in the Conference Premier. With 4 minutes to go, Chester were leading 2-1, while their fellow relegation candidates, Herford, were drawing 1-1 at Aldershot. Then a first blow. Salisbury equalised. Come on, Aldershot. NO! Hereford take the lead. Chester throw the kitchen sink, hit the woodwork - but the game ends with their relegation.
When we hit the doo-doo Chester were being wound up. They re-built with fan's money and it took three back-to-back promotions to get to Conference Premier. They started badly, and then got worse. They bought in a new manager for the last few games and he came within a goal difference of 2 of keeping them up. How cruel.
Lots of us probably have second teams (Eastleigh is an obvious choice) and Chester have been mine for years. I know I'm a Saints fan as Saints are the only team that can hurt me - true love defined! I got over the disappointment personally very quickly, but obviously back home and meeting people I know who are dyed-in-the-wool Chester fans I found myself in counselor mode. The most common reaction was that non-football people "didn't understand". "I know no-one has died - it just feels like it" one of my mates at the gym said yesterday.
We surely all remember that summer of 2009, when we were seeing headlines suggesting Saints could fold, and may be forced to re-start in the Conference. OMG, the desperation to beat Burnley so that we might take the 10 point deduction immediately and know we could start the following season with a clean sheet - provided we survived. In the course of my conversation yesterday I was telling my mate how, when the announcement was made that Saints were screwed, I just took myself off down the garden and cried. It's pathetic, I know. I have a strong marriage, a great family and a wonderful life. What the hell was I doing. But it's what it does to us, and we know it's irrational but there it is.
Will Mauricio go; will Adam, Luke et al still be with us. These things matter to me as much as the next Saint. A club that lacks ambition would not have been beating Everton on Saturday. They'd have been happy to have been playing a local derby with Bournemouth, or seeing off the might of Yeovil. We've shown ambition in spades. Surely, the board must know how quickly the whole thing can fall apart. Our old fishy friends down the road provide a perfect example. The only way is not up - going down is equally likely. Standing still is not an option.
It's a big summer, that's true. But while watching Adam & Rickie win the World Cup and worrying about the future of Saints reflect on 2009, and think about what might have been - the stuff of nightmares!
