Last week, after Plymouth Argyle had confirmed their promotion to the Championship but not yet had the chance to secure the League One title, I spoke to a supporter who, whilst clearly bursting with joy, admitted some disappointment that this glorious campaign was coming to an end.
It caught me off guard a little, yet deep down I recognised the feeling. Those who know me might point out that football-related pessimism isn’t exactly off-brand, but when my own club was promoted, there existed an odd nugget of loss deep within my psyche.
Promotion is, by definition, a destination. It is the celebration of measurable success and the continued march up the pyramid. It is the eventual realisation of expectation or overperformance way beyond it. It is also, sometimes more than anything else, a moment of intense relief. If you don’t think that your football team is going to collapse as soon as their finish line comes into view, I’m both jealous of you and don’t trust you.
But promotion is also an extended process played out over a number of months. It is the hope that builds after a strong start to the season. It is those unlikely days when you never look like losing and those precious minutes when you have an unassailable lead and can take the chance to look around you and breathe it all in.
It’s the doubt after every setback and the evaporation of that doubt a week later. It is checking the league table twice a day, even – no, especially – when no further games have taken place, just because you vow to take a mental picture of something you never dared to believe might happen.
Within promotion campaigns, we see the best of our clubs: the long-term planning coming to fruition; the shorter-term decisions that immediately pay off; the togetherness of the group; the resilience; the celebrations in front of the crowd that temporarily take a sledgehammer to the fourth wall.
Our football clubs do so much to ensure that they remain community institutions, yet it is never more obvious to us than when they are winning matches.
Finally, promotion is an emotional insurance policy, something to cling onto whenever required in the future. And it will be. Of the 10 EFL teams promoted last season, only one is likely to finish higher than 10th and eight will likely finish 14th or lower.
None have won more than 40 per cent of their league games this season and seven of the 10 have lost managers, either because they have been targeted by other clubs or floundered at a higher level.
Fulham and Sunderland are honourable exceptions, never once in danger of sinking, but they are exceptions.
Psychologically, that can be hard to process. Those players who flourished at one level can struggle with the step-up, testing the loyalty of those supporters clamouring after more success. New players are inevitably signed that erode the connection between fans and team. Managers are put under intense pressure. Supporters who got used to winning are asked to accept that defeats – and even runs of defeats – are inevitable.
But that psychological conundrum exists whatever happens after the Lord Mayor’s show. The paradox of domestic football is that it is both a repetitive exercise – there’s always another season and always a second chance – and yet each of those seasons are completely unique.
Our experiences can never quite be recaptured in the same way; they are shaped by what has just been and what is yet to come. And, with our promotion seasons, we are losing something that cannot be bottled.
Football is increasingly terrible at encouraging the enjoyment of the moment outside of longer-term context. Win a game, and they ask if we’ll go on a run. Win a title and they want to know if we will defend it or go on to create a legacy. Go up and they froth over who we might buy and how we might get on. The entire industry is now slanted to the next steps, not the last ones.
So, please, rail against this. If your team has been fortunate or excellent enough to go up, dwell on it for as long as you can. Have deep, meaningful conversations about what you have seen and the places that you have been.
Ignore the temptation to switch focus to next season and, for the love of all that is holy, don’t get obsessed about who you are going to buy in the transfer window. There will be time for all that, don’t worry, but live in the moment. You never know when it will be this good again.
from Football - inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/Bin78uN
Post a Comment