Straight after Wednesday’s draw with Rushden I got a message from a friend ‘hur-hur-ing’ our predicament: “Another season in the Conference then?” he mocked.
I replied, defiantly, that a) it wasn’t over yet and b) there was always the play-offs. I genuinely wasn’t disheartened by the result; in fact, the loss of an eight point lead at the top of the table doesn’t feel that bad. I wasn’t being defeatist, I still want us to go up, but I’m less worried than I have been about whether it’s via the title, play-offs or, indeed, in another season. I thought I might be alone in viewing the result as a reasonable effort in the circumstances.
I was wrong; the more respectable online outlets seemed rather encouraged by the display and result. There was a beatific calm about the fact we’d fallen further off the title race and gone another game without a win.
We’ve been so desperate to bring back the good times that we’re jerking and jamming the gears. But I sense a change of attitude, we will grow success and nurture it, it will happen when the time is right.
It was like the mother of a crack-addict diligently feeding her sick son soup and forcing methadone down his throat whilst he bellows insults and steals her money for another hit. Her love is so complete that nothing can hurt her. Likewise; the club can hurt us no more, we have no choice but to nurse it back to health. What would we do otherwise? Let it die?
So, breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. Centre your Chi. Don’t look at the table, just let the good energy flow. Bring on Gateshead, let’s go and beat them.