There’s no doubting that my wife Barbara is a true Norwich supporter.
She gets as emotionally involved in games as I do, and – despite friends’ incredulity that we make a 250-mile round trip to each home match – she wouldn’t contemplate giving up our season tickets.
This is pretty remarkable as she comes from Rochester. Not Rochester, Kent – Rochester, New York. Although she suffers the great misfortune of not being born in Norfolk, she’s made up for it with a whole-hearted conversion to the Canary cause.
I suppose she knew what she was letting herself in for, as our first date involved going to see City play at West Ham. While we both have a clear recollection of the day, conversations suggest a slight divergence in what we remember.
I suspect she remembers what we were each wearing. For me, I remember that we won 3-2 (two from David Jones, one from Kevin Reeves). At a push I might recall the minutes when we scored, but I’ve not the faintest idea what I was wearing.
The one certainty is that I wouldn’t fit into it now.
There are other small differences. We disagree about the merits of certain players – but no more than any two City fans you’d put in the same room. And she’s not entirely persuaded that a man of my age should be wearing a replica shirt.
Not to mention her view of my Norwich onesie.
A more serious issue is how we react to City losing. I sulk; she gets angry. While both are perfectly reasonable responses, they don’t mix well. So sometimes I end up defending players and tactics I really don’t want to defend, and so on. We always resolve things, but it doesn’t help the natural post-defeat healing process.
So we’ve supported Norwich together through plenty of thick and thin. We’ve followed them to Milan and Yeovil, to Old Trafford and the New Den; we’ve been through highs and lows at Highbury and The Valley.
In case anyone’s thinking at this point that I don’t treat my wife very romantically, I can dismiss that idea straightaway. Why, only this Easter I took her for a weekend in Brighton. (City won 1-0.)
Above all, I’m very conscious of how lucky I am to have a partner who shares this powerful and mysterious passion.
Barbara’s commitment is no less for having grown up outside Norfolk. After all, even Delia – who has surely given a greater proportion of wealth and energy to her club than any other major football owner – didn’t grow up with City in her blood. She was brought to it by her husband Michael.
By the way, if you don’t know much about Michael Wynn Jones (or even if you do) it’s well worth reading his chapter in Tales from the City.
Carrow Road has almost entirely happy memories for us. For importance of games and sentiment towards the opposition, I guess it’s hard to beat the semi-final/play-off wins over Ipswich (1985), Wolves (2002) and Ipswich (2015).
We’ve also of course seen Norwich win a Wembley final. Barbara is to blame that it wasn’t 2015. Frustratingly (in that respect) she was invited to speak at a conference in Australia, which is why we were on the other side of the world that wonderful day when we took Mr Karanka and his team to the cleaners.
But we were there to see Dave Watson lift the Milk Cup in 1985.
Time does fly. Ed Couzens-Lake’s pieces on this site always bring back vivid memories, but I need to remind myself that not all City fans are as long in the tooth as I am. I’ve been known to say that a current City player reminds me of, say, Colin Suggett – to blank expressions all round. Come on, surely you remember Colin Suggett??
Everyone has a ritual for their day at Carrow Road. Fortunately, ours offers plenty of compensation if the result isn’t right. As well as seeing friends who sit near us – I think of them as friends, even though we don’t know most of their names – we have lunch in the Gunn Club.
Barbara’s been known to say that lunch was the highlight of the day. Usually in those cases, I can’t disagree. But I’ll never regret making the journey, and I look forward to us sharing many more.
You old softie Stew – just had to break out the Kleenex.
I took a girl on a first date to Carrow Road. It was August 8th, 2009. I never saw her again even though I treated her to a pie and crisps at half time after we’d conceded 5.
The writing was on the wall that day for all involved. The rest is history as they say.
Not being in the country for the playoff final is almost unforgivable..almost.
Romeo (1) – Yes, guilty as charged.
A few years earlier and you could have bought your girl a Bovril and Wagon Wheel. Who knows how different history could have been?
There must have been many relationships, marriages and divorces forged around the happenings at Carrow Road over the years. Sounds like you ‘picked a winner’ off the pitch that day.
That would have been the first game of the 77/78 season – you give the Hammers too much credit as they only scored one that day. Turned out to be the only away win all season. Moral? Leave it to you.
Don John (3) – I did indeed pick a winner.
Barbara will be amused to learn that I couldn’t even remember the right score. 3-1 it was.
The day Mrs R and I first became an item was FA Cup 3rd Round day 1979. We were 1st Division, our opponents, Leicester, Div 2. Anyone recall the outcome?? Played on an ice rink, I was there, Keith Weller and his tights.
Her Birthday Party for all our 16 year old school friends, at her house near Leicester…Mmmm, I was the butt of most of the evening’s entertainment of course. Not all bad though, still together nearly 37 years on. She’s Forest now, I’ve never changed!!
Dan (5) – We were there too!
I’m starting to lose confidence in my memory, but we were certainly defeated. Have a feeling it was 3-0.
Nice to hear of these enduring relationships. Romeo excepted, of course…
Yes thats it, Stewart, 3-0. Weller got at least 1. At the time Leicester had that odd balloon over the Filbert St pitch, hence I think it was one of the few matches to go ahead that day, so was featured on MoTD – unfortunately. Middle of a very bad winter, the one ‘of discontent’ indeed.
In time another Mr Weller would give me more pleasure!!
Dan, Stewart, if i am not mistaken, that Leicester match was also in doubt all week, but thanks to the state of the art Leicester “bubble” inflated with air..the match went ahead on a still fairly frozen pitch.My memory is also a 3-0 defeat.
Like me, Stewart, you had the good sense and great good fortune to marry up. And Mr and Mrs D were privileged to be present when you did so. It was like a movie (in-joke for those who were at the reception).
The first Norwich game I took my girlfriend (now wife) to was the tale of the invisible penalty areas at that place down the road (even then they must have been strapped for cash and couldn’t afford to paint the lines). A long story but we had tickets in the family enclosure there. Norwich won the game and even better, she drove!
Unfortunately I haven’t been able to alter her football aliegences. She supports Leicester.
Mick(9) – you mean the seats were uncomfortable, the music was by Pearl and Dean and everyone was munching popcorn throughout?
I’m thinking, “Indecent Proposal”, “The Longest Day” or “For Whom the Bell Tolls”.
Cosmo (11): Curb that imagination!
As a result of a long story, our wedding reception took place at Pinewood Studios. It was fun (and a happy 34 years ago).
Stewart – that would be “Carry on up the Aisle” then. Sorry, I’ve gone all Barry Norman.