Unlike our previous two seasons in League One, when we hit the ground running, we have started this one like a damp squib. They say one swallow does not make a summer, and as I am now in the mood to use a few idioms, could it be that this is the winter of new intent?
I know. We have not reached Autumn officially until tomorrow, but like a good wine that matures with time, I have a feeling we will get better and better as the season progresses.
I have stated before that I don’t think Town will be playing at full throttle until around Christmas, so that means we will have to rely on some good fortune and some kind refereeing decisions between now and then. They say that momentum is everything, and our tails should be up after last Saturday impressive victory at Lincoln. I guess it is about time. You cannot replace 27 squad members with 19 new ones and expect miracles overnight. Manager Paul Cook kept to his promise and did what he had warned he would do, but of course, it almost cost him his job!
I think most of us want Cooky to succeed. I still feel he needs more backroom help, but the players convinced me with their performances against The Imps that they are still playing for the gaffer. When Paul Lambert was edging towards the exit door, the Town squad suddenly started to play for the boss. That is why we were only two points off those play-off places when he was eventually shown the door. It turned out to be too little too late, but I got the feeling the team were playing for their manager again at Sincil Bank.
Cook has a poor record as the Town boss. He is only too aware of it. His win ratio per game is still only 20%, but the sad loss of his father exacerbated the situation further.
I remember I was travelling back to Liverpool from Windsor when my dad passed. I was not in the mood for conversation only contemplation, and then this scouser came up to me and said, ” Did you hear the score la! Liverpool are Champions again. Isn’t it fantastic!” I stared blindly at him and told him that I couldn’t give a toss. Moments later he returned with a double whisky and said, “Drink this mate. I am so sorry about your dad.” On reflection, I thought I was a bit inconsiderate, but that is what a death in the family can do to you. Paul Cook has handled it remarkably well.
One solitary victory seems like a very small step for mankind, but a massive one for Ipswich Town football club! Now we have something to build upon, and it came, just in the nick of time!
