Here's where the story ends

I have two memories of the season.

1. I stood on the terrace of the Anfield Road stand after the first game of the season; there was much to consider Sure, we had been beaten 4-1, but in the second half had passed the ball round well, and scored a goal. Liverpool were the reigning European and World Champions, and to be the forthcoming English Champions too. We had come, played our football, done OK, and on paper, this was the hardest game of the season.

Much to be positive about.

We knew we would concede, but we could score. This would be a good season.

2. Five months later I stood on the rain-soaked steps of Old Trafford. We had been thrashed 4-0, and in my blog I said we were lucky to get nil. Its not that we lost, it was the way we lost: gutless, making the poorest Utd team in decades look like world champions. I saw nothing that day to give me hope. And already hope was all we had. I did not stay to applaud the team off, instead I waited outside in the pouring rain as Utd fans and football tourists walked past, laughing long and loud. Later, in the City, people saw our colours and said we were unlucky. They were just being nice, we were crap.

Relegation was pretty much assured then. Two weeks later I watched us push the poorest Spurs side I have ever seen, and then be beaten by a fluked deflected goal. Maybe that was the moment the players gave up?

We beat Spurs in the Cup, in a penalty shootout, and then came the lockdown and sport was suspended for three months. We got a bad case of hope. Get the players fit, sort out some tactics, score some goals, and win some games.

I watched the first game back, and there was nothing. No belief. It was done, no hope.

So, we are down. At last. No hope left. In 35 games we have scored 25 goals. Nowhere near enough, and have conceded more than two a game. A recipe for relegation.

I really thought we would do OK. Last season we were scoring goals for fun, never gave up. I thought we would let in lots, but score enough to survive.

I was very, very wrong.

We failed to score enough in 2005, 2016 and now in 2020. I have no complaints, its not VAR or the new handball rule's fault. It is ours and ours alone.

Who knows what could have been done different. Spent more money, for sure. But that guarantees nothing. There was no plan B, when the pretty passing footy failed. No guile, no muscle, no playing dirty. All too predictable, and the goals dried up. Every game Norwich fell behind, they lost, in every game!

The club is in a good place. But promotion from the Football League is harder than staying up, believe it or not. We won't always bounce back, nothing is certain.

But the pain is ending. Hope is dead.

On the Ball, City.