Iffy's Outside Write...
Saturday 12 September 2009 08:00
So barely seven days since the Night of the Long Knives at Darlington, a night that ultimately sealed mine and Peter Jackson’s fate at Lincoln City, the bitter aftermath is starting to rear its ugly head.
There have been threats, tears and posturing on both sides as events threaten to spiral out of control.
However I’m sure the missus and I will resolve our differences shortly, and take that nice peaceful holiday we spoke so longingly about before the lawyers moved in!
Speaking of lawyers, you may or may not be interested to know (tough luck if you’re not; it is, after all, MY blog) that practising law is an avenue I’m seriously considering.
And not just to keep the grey matter at bay whilst in soccer’s equivalent of Siberia, nor to simply increase my chances of winning an argument, any argument, with my Better Half.
It's something I’ve always had an interest in. I’m making enquiries with a few colleges and universities and it could be circa 1985-1989 for Yours Truly all over again.
Naturally I’ll have to prepare well for this possible new role.
For a few days now, I’ve taken a less than dutiful approach to personal hygiene, espoused the principle of free love (on reflection, that might have been the Tipping Point with Better Half), and I even marched determinedly through the streets of Bristol yesterday with several other hardy souls joining the campaign for greater rights for someone called the Dull Lama (funny name, I thought).
Not wanting to seem uncommitted, I went further and by the end of the day I’d acquired a traffic bollard, some dreadlocks (sort of!) and a dog on a string.
The revolution starts here, brothers and sisters, and I’ll be leader!
I mentioned all this to my daughter, who’s in her final year at university, and I could tell she was proud of me by the way she instantly burst into tears of joy, blubbering something about how “sad” it was.
“Don’t worry love, I’m on a roll now,” I told her, at which point she burst into tears again, bless her!
Meanwhile back in the real world, it was nice to see Lincoln win the very next game against Darlington last weekend.
Now I imagine you might think I’d be saying that through gritted teeth in view of how things panned out, but nothing could be further from the truth.
I was pleased for Simon Clark – who took over and may well be in with a good chance of the job – but also the players, nearly all of whom we bought to the club and were merely lacking a little confidence after a couple of bad results.
No reason to think that they can’t do well from here on in, that would be a small vindication of the work put in, bringing players into a club of financially solid, rather than spectacular, means.
Definitely a tougher call was following the weekend’s results while out “enjoying” a shopping trip with my beloved (who’s now reading this over my shoulder!).
I realise I’m in classic cliché mode here, but I’ve done a complete about-turn from the days when as a player I and a few others would finish training and go into the town to shop, and look important and famous.
Nowadays I hate it with the same passion I love my beloved (she’s still reading!), and I say NO man should have to endure TK Maxx on a Saturday at kick-off time!
I recall an old manager of mine used to habitually refer to Saturdays as a “man’s day.”
Well I’ve got news for him, it isn’t anymore, unless men have all started cross-dressing on the weekends.
All the men I saw looked remarkably similar to me, wearing a look that spoke volumes of their private hell, and wishing they could be anywhere but here right now.
I felt for them until I realised I WAS them!
Feel for me, my fellow brothers in arms, as you perhaps walk to watch your team this weekend, Through the Wind and the Rain and with Hope in your Heart.
To continue the cliché one more time, I’ll probably Walk Alone… with shopping bags!
Iffy
PS: I did make it a personal policy to leave the online forums for all of you to vent your anger/frustration/surprise etc. at my blog, and that’s more or less still the case.
However, I do keep an eye out and might I just thank those who have posted a comment or two, particularly the Lincoln fans of all shades of opinion, who have wished me luck for the future.
Sincere thanks to one and all.
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About Iffy Onuora
Iffy Onuora is a journeyman striker turned Pulitzer Prize-winning writer (possibly). He combined a fledgling journalism career with being assistant manager of League Two outfit Lincoln City, later spending time as manager of Ethiopia. Iffy will continue to write a regular blog on life at the sharp end of football.