So there I was trumpeting our new defensive stoicism, and what happens? Carnage. Still, it wasn’t just me, Margy said prematch that it would be a tight game with just one or two goals in it. Even the best laid plans, ad all that.
People are all ready dubbing this match Quorn II. Up against an inept ref, the crowd in full voice, a stirring performance on the pitch, but despite a breath-taking fight back from 4-1 down with ten minutes to go, we couldn’t quite find the vital equalising goal. Should we have had a penalty in injury time? Possibly. But despite this magic of the cup nonsense that gets force-fed to us by the FA’s marketing team, we couldn’t quite stumble over the line. If the game had been another five minutes longer, would it have made the difference? Well, there’s no point thinking like that, as it wasn’t.
Five or so games in to the seaosn and we’re non the wiser as to how it’s all going to pan out. I kind of like that. Every game could end in glory, or glorious failure. But still, that doesn’t really matter, does it? The fact we’re here at all is cause for celebration enough.
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