While we scored five, our striker didn’t feature on the scoresheet but let’s put this firmly into perspective. Nelson Oliviera worked his butt off, linked play superbly when he could and looked every inch the five million pound striker. We also had one Cameron Jerome on the bench.
There is no real point in berating Alex Tettey for attracting the inevitable final yellow either. It’s the way he plays, bless him, and we have Ben Godfrey and Youssouf Mulumbu. One to play (hopefully Godfrey for me, give the lad his chance) and the other on the bench.
It also seems inevitable that Robbie Brady is off, which on paper should give us the funds for a left-sided wide player (a true replacement for Brady, and not an auxiliary left-back) and, whisper it quietly, a better centre back than – Timm Klose apart – we possess already.
All the people I refer to go to Carrow Road because they want to be there – even the guy who cannot pick out which player is which. And he’s younger than me and doesn’t appear to need glasses. He might not know who the players are, but seems to enjoy himself nonetheless.
So, three points against a club that – let’s be honest – few of us admire. And what I believe is our first double of the season. Unlike some folks on social media I am not concerned about putting a spoke in Paul Lambert’s wheel. His tenure leaves me with fantastic memories and I wish him all the best.
I don’t always watch the Channel 5 Highlights show all the way through, but I did this weekend. The sheer exuberance of Leeds, the grit and endeavour of Preston and the way Fulham knocked it around for fun made me consider how proud I would be to support any one of those sets of players. Not our lot, I’m afraid.
We also have a top-quality international centre back who wants out and we own the registration of the kind of player most people would want up front for them in this league but is obviously thought of as not good enough for us by certain people.
Back in 1992, I went to The Dell for our quarter final. A 0-0 bore draw and we were shoehorned onto old trestles with ‘seat’ numbers on the back. Anyone on a packed Sleazyjet aircraft who complains of sitting next to a large person on one side and a small child with an ear-splitting shriek on the other hasn’t lived.
We had the temerity to beat Wolves 2-0 and it was the night their wonderful fans decided to put half a breezeblock through one of the Club Canary coaches. Tucking my scarf under my Liam Gallagher parka, I walked back through the subway towards the Novotel. Tucking my scarf under my Liam Gallagher parka, I walked back through the subway towards the Novotel. I was confronted by half a dozen angry Wolves.
Alex Neil is so past his sell-by date it is beyond belief. He is kept in situ and the silence from the boardroom is deafening. The majority of NCFC fans – including myself and I am sure most, if not all of the MFW writers – have been patient for so long. The guys at Archant likewise.
“There is a circus in the town – where George Burley is the clown”. Again, far too rude to detail, but I used to sing it with gusto. A true NCFC original and I absolutely loved joining in with it.
After Villa, I wrote that Alex Neil had earned a further chance to put things right. Well, quite frankly, he’s blown it. I’m not screaming for Gary Rowett or any other individual – certainly not Roy Hodgson, anyway – but something has to change.
Many of us thought last night’s team selection appeared too defensive on paper. I don’t care – it worked. Winning ugly? To an extent, but I would settle for this level of performance in every game right now. We need those points and it really doesn’t matter how we get them.
I have no jealousy at all aimed towards those who earn x, y or z, but if I respect Grant Holt and Bradley Johnson above others, it is because I truly believe they have earned their rewards the hard way and respect them from the lessons I have learned in my own life.
It’s an open secret that it’s “sell to buy” in January and given our recent track record I don’t hold out too much hope for much of any use to happen in terms of ins-and-outs. But if Saturday is anything to go by, things are looking a little more towards the skies than the floor.
This white VW Golf convertible had been tailing me for seemingly ages with rap so loud it was almost drowning out my Iron Maiden. As we pulled up side by side at the lights the occupants looked over. Foxy in the passenger seat and Lee Power driving. I just waved my scarf out of the window of the Mondeo and got two great thumbs-ups.
Mark Bowen has to be one of the very finest players ever to wear the yellow shirt. “You’ll never beat Mark Bowen” sang the Barclay, and were invariably correct. He could play anywhere, too – midfield, striker, even in goal once at Coventry.