Stan grew up watching Norwich in the midst of economic (and social) turmoil.
Back in the 1970s, when the trade unions had some clout, we put up a fight as inflation and oil crises ravaged Tory and Old Labour governments alike.
Then, in the 1980s, as Thatcher trampled over much that was good about Britain, mass unemployment fed recession, brief boom and further recession.
Remember when the Castle Mall first opened? All boarded up and empty units; Prince of Wales Road looked like the a*se-end of Magdalen Street; house prices fell to rock bottom – you could almost buy a North City house outright after a good day on the Cromer slotties.
And in that time, Norwich were a top flight team. A couple of relegations aside, we were among the top 15 teams in the country, playing football the Norwich (via West Ham and Spurs) way. Europe and Wembley; Highbury and Old Trafford; Match of the Day…
So it was, therefore, that as banks crash and a new dark age looms, Stan began to wonder if the old adage he has always applied to pop music – economy bad, pop music good; economy good, pop music hopeless – could be applied to his beloved Canaries.
Now, this is obviously not an exact science, but we footie fans need hope and that must be found any which way possible.
Indeed, Stan's theory looks plausible on first glance. But then, as Stan wandered passed Massies chip shop on his way to The Rosary, he got to thinking.
This recession is looking more like the 1930s; this could well be 'great depression' stuff – where were City then? The answer: we were in the Division Three (South) but got promoted in 1933-34, just as the downturn levelled out.
We then got relegated in the midst of the pre-war rearmament boom. Hmmm – Stan, you may be onto something…
Now, you may be wondering what all this squit has to do with City's latest defeat.
Well, Stan was finding it hard to face writing about our surrender to ten-men QPR. He needed to think that some bizarre theory could work out how we may once more rise from the mire, given that the chumps in the yellow shirts don't seem to be able to do it.
For last night was proof, if it was needed, that we have a long way to go before we get a whiff of mid-table, let alone the play-offs or promotion.
We have, without doubt, got the nucleus of a decent team.
There are some good individual players here, and we try to play football the right way.
At the back, we have an excellent defence – though Stan is praying to Lord Drinkell that Kennedy has not done anything too serious to his ankle.
Beyond that, however, we remain lightweight and often inconsistent. Despite having the bulk of possession from the moment that QPR lost a man, we looked unimaginative, lumpen and physically unable to cope against a well-organised and well-drilled team.
This, in turn, was compounded by Roeder's bizarre decision to (a) take off our two most creative players, and (b) to play Patty in centre midfield when, well, no. Just no, basically.
By the end, Stan had a sinking feeling. As he wandered back to the pub to drown his sorrows, he tried to think of the bigger picture.
A defeat to QPR is not the end of the world or proof that we are bound to struggle all season.
It does, however, show that Sibi is in no way the 'final piece to the jigsaw'. As it stands, we look better than we did when Roeder took over, but not yet good enough to take our place in this division for granted.
And so, as the recession deepens, we will just have to hope that Stan's theory will pan out. Bring on the collapse of capitalism and, you never know, we may just have something to smile about…
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