I told myself I wouldn’t get wrapped up in the transfer circus but oh how I wish I’d got the willpower to see that through. To my shame, I’ve been riding the highs and lows of what’s pretty much a period unsubstantiated rubbish, tantrums and boredom.
The stupidest thing is, Norwich City have strengthened and there’s still just under three weeks left until the window closes. Perhaps even more than that though, City have been in really decent form. Why do I, or others, let it wind us up. It’s a load of rubbish. We’ve had David McNally at the helm for a long old stint now, Alex Neil has proven himself to be a real bright young thing, head of recruitment Lee Darnbrough – well, he didn’t enjoy the best of times at Burnley, so I’m not exactly convinced on that one, but still. These guys aren’t sat around with their thumbs planted firmly up their backsides. They’re trying. They’re doing things. But, this isn’t Football Manager or FIFA. It’s not a few clicks and ringadingding, photocalls and PR drenched quotes time.
It’s the time watching your boys that matters. Those are the best days. I remember our great games; smashing Ipswich repeatedly over the last few years, Derby County at home, winning at Old Trafford and, of course, Wembley. That’s why you’re a football fan. Not wasting away your hours glued to Twitter, waiting for some freelance journalist to give you a nibble of information of what’s happening (Nothing against freelance journalists, I’m one myself. Primarily based in buses and coaches for now, but that’s a story for another time). What is the point of getting so riled up though?
Stoke away, Bournemouth away, Liverpool at home. Games. Matches. Who gives a damn what 11 we’ve got out there? They’ll give it their best under Alex Neil, who step by step is putting his stamp on the Premier League. We’ve already got Dieumerci Mbokani, who I’m expecting big things from until May.
I just don’t care anymore. I’m done. There is no point whatsoever getting so wound up about it. It’s rubbish. Sky Sports can drum it up into this epic saga all they want. Jim White can come close to spontaneously combusting on deadline day all he likes. But I’m out. I’m done. I’m sticking to that, this time.
I’ve shown myself how stupid it is. I’m 22, working as a freelance journalist, doing my best to nab a job, while following the dream of becoming a writer of screenplays or books. I don’t work for Norwich City. I don’t work in football. I just go see them each week. I can’t do anything about what’s going on. I know for a fact things will be being done. I can’t do anything except show up each week, shout myself hoarse and, hopefully, come home in a damn good mood.
Things will happen, when they happen. I’m off to make things happen in my own life. I guess I’ve had a transfer of my own, I’ve signed a bout of common sense and it’s a mighty relief!