All Bluebirds Column #14: The Never-ending Story

“Every real story is a never ending story.”

Following a football team, if it is anything, is the above. . Myths and legends, heroes and villains. There can be desperate failure, unlikely redemption, ecstacy, agony and a shifting, endless cast of characters, both on and off the pitch.

Each chapter, each season follows its own narrative arc.

Easter had certainly followed the biblical blueprint with a Crewe sized Calvary followed by resurrection at home to Crawley. Easter is not the whole story, and for The Bluebirds, the season ending not quite yet written.

Season 122: Chapter 42; Swindon

Barrow in the early morning can have a quiet, slightly dystopian feel, which mainly manifests itself in the behaviour of our feathered friends.

 One day we will wake up and the seagulls will be in charge- mark my words. They were certainly unfazed by any taxi greeting the dawn on Rawlinson Street, flying boldly up to the bonnet before veering away at the last moment with a contemptuous screech.  Pigeons rolled lazily aside on the road itself, reluctant as teenagers on a Monday school morning.

One of the joys of away travel is how surreal it can be. The possibility that the temporary traffic lights at Swarthmoor linked, directly to the Matrix had never occurred to me before. As I was reeling from this observation, a kindly grandmother offered me a Mint Cream. And that was before Ulverston. Far out man.

The bus was pleasant as ever. Subjects covered: expensive black clothing, Rory Gallagher, Snapchat, home brew, Kosovo, football quizzes and Steve Archibald. Also why are Ocean Colour Scene popular? No, me neither.

Anyway, Swindon. A town, which gives off waves of angry disappointment, like a sclerotic uncle holding forth eight cans in. From the steroid fuelled bluecoats led by Eva Braun on acid, daft rules, to the scruffy wannabes offering ‘it’. From the unhelpful downtrodden townspeople to the generic Broken Britain pubs. Swindon sucks.  It is not our fault that you are not bohemian Bristol or even (God help us) Oxford.

Therefore, we again stopped in the lovely village of Wootton Bassett for as long as possible before arriving under ‘heavy escort’, wending our way through home fans on the bus to the away end. Carling the only beer choice, you concourse sons of Satan.

The game began and we had decided to give Swindon the ball and work out of possession. They did their bit quite well and we did our bit quite well- it wasn’t blood curdling stuff. Jonny Williams showed a fair bit of class and they looked more likely to score. However, they also looked shot-shy and nervous at the back, which we could exploit.

Half time came and went and we stepped it up a little. We were comfortably grafting (Canavan imperious) but the difference between here and say, Bradford was that we didn’t seem to be able to threaten with the same vigour when we did turn over the ball.

I was glad to see Josh Kay introduced. He can offer the unexpected-and more good than bad in my opinion. It offered us a little more. Results were going our way, ten minutes to go, you ‘never know’.

Looking back, it was an overly passive last ten minutes. In normal circumstances, a point at Swindon is a great point but there was a small sense of ‘what might have been’. For me though, Harrogate and Crewe is where any outside play-off chances went. They were bad performances. This was not. We just aren’t quite good enough yet I think. Top ten, yes, play offs no.

The game finished in mutual applause between away fans and our team. Both had toiled hard in the spring sunshine. Four to go.

However, surely no-one seriously thinks we wouldn’t snap hands off for promotion, I hope, as some of the wilder imaginings took hold online. The miracle may happen in the next four games as win them all and we make the playoffs I think. We certainly owe Carlisle a thumping.

But we are too inconsistent and that’s down to level of focus that a certain quality of player we have possesses. Just my opinion though.

As we veered musically up the road we fell to thinking about where we are. Slightly miffed, in a crowd of 8000 to draw at Swindon in League 2 and shut the door on promotion play offs to League 1.

Ten years and two days ago, we went down from the Conference against Cambridge. This is the equal fifth best season in our history currently and the best in over half a century. I know stating facts like that irritate both the incorrigible optimists in our support who have blind faith and the ‘clear eyed’ pessimists who can point out the flaws in any success… but come on lads and lasses!

Let’s finish strong, beat Carlisle at least and go into the summer in good heart. Ready to welcome away trips to Morecambe and Accy. Recruitment will need to be as good as this year (Sam Mclelland will be such a miss) but we did pretty well and are much more stable off the pitch.

Many chapters end with the reader wanting more and this season will be no exception. It doesn’t mean 2022/23 hasn’t been great though. Read on!