I followed the Ipswich cup match on the radio and it occurred to me while I was listening that emotions vary during the course of a game even when you aren’t there. However there is one emotion that never seems to go away until the final whistle – HOPE. Some people might say it would better be defined as hopeless, but it doesn’t transfer to that state until the very last moment. For nearly half an hour we were on equal terms and it only needed one goal for us to take the initiative (like last season – only then we capitulated under the pressure of it all). Even going one goal down wasn’t a disaster – at least it wasn’t the turncoat Lisbie who scored it. Amazing that you can find comfort in disappointment. We were attacking enough to make an equaliser possible, maybe even before half-time. It would be great to go into the break on equal terms at least.
Shortly after the interval our world caved in. The ex-striker scored against us and it looks like we are doomed to exit from the cup. But no, true fans never give up hope. How do we transfer that mindset to the players so that they keep trying? Not sure really, perhaps a few chants to remind them of home? Well it worked, up to a point this time. Some substitutions also gave a renewed feeling of a chance to salvage something. Perhaps if we could get just one goal then the opposition would crumble and then we could get another, and would a winner be too much to ask? (Who do you ask for this type of request?) Well, getting that first one is the biggest hurdle and the longer it took to get that then the rest of our hopeless cause was rapidly flying out of the stadium.
Then someone threw a lifeline and we scored, but with only three minutes of normal time left you had to wonder if there was time for an equaliser. It was too much to ask (who do you call?) to expect a winner at this stage but maybe the disappointment of having a two goal lead dragged back might work in our favour during extra time. I’m already getting myself ready for the extended commentary. I can even visualise us winning by two goals to put it beyond doubt. However, I’m getting way ahead of myself and the ref has blown the whistle and we are out of it.
It seems that we should have been asking Saint Jude for help.
First Cuckoo 