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Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of ITFC. No.47 - We’re Going Up Again!
When we look back on this game dispassionately, we’ll probably see it as comfortable. It didn’t feel it at the time, even with the two early goals. There was always a nagging doubt that if QPR somehow pulled one back, things would get nervy.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.46 - That’s Entertainment, Revisited
An extraordinary, pulsating, end-to-end-ding-dong of a game. Fantastic entertainment; what football should always be about. One game now left, three points still required.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.45 - The Point
I’m running out of words for these intros. The poem says it all. A point was needed, and we got it. Two poems left (hopefully). Three points required.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.44 - Stress
One word sums this game up. And the rest of the season, I imagine.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.43 - Monk-y Business
This was a battle that swung one way then the other, ending in a probably fair draw. And I saw a monk on the train.

No One Likes Us, Do We Care?
Scrolling through some socials after the Boro game, I was surprised at the level of antipathy expressed toward us. Although it was based largely on a view that the late penalty was dodgy, it actually went much further and painted a picture of us as a universally disliked club.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.42 - Expecting
Oh dear. Can we just forget this one? The poem’s short, let’s just get this over with and move onto Sunday. The less said the better.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.41 - Rocks
I don’t know about you, but I’m still grinning.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.40 - Fart Exhibition
A win. Up to second with two games in hand. That’s all you really need to say about this one.

Thoughts On What Has Gone On
The full facts of what has unfolded in the last few days at Ipswich Town FC may never be known. In what I regard as the poor and superficial public apology made by Mark Ashton that pivoted on four key factors, he has failed in my view to take true ownership or action on any of them.

Trust
Nigel Farage’s divisive visit to Portman Road and the club’s disingenuous rebuttal that followed, have catalysed a seismic backlash against our chairman and CEO, Mark Ashton.

Time's Up Mark
Trust is a funny thing, it takes years to develop and in extreme circumstances, minutes to end. Whether that's in a relationship, a friendship or in a commercial setting, when it breaks down it is simply time to move on.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.39 - Pains In The Neck
At the end of my last intro I said, “See you again for more of the same next week”.

Faragegate
"Is that Chelsea?" "How did that happen?" "Massive own goal"

The Evolution of Referees
The quality of officials - or lack of it - has taken up a lot of space in Town discussions in the last two weeks or so. Personally, I have been appalled at the penalty decisions which have cost us four points - assuming we had scored the spot-kicks we should have had. And you could extend that to six, if you include the Preston game.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.38 - Shockaholics
It’s been an interesting week or so, to say the least.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.37 - I Don’t Want To Write This Poem
Well I was angry. And speechless. And then I calmed down. Terrible defending at the end of the first half saw two conceded. Then a stirring second-half comeback to go 3-2 up - were we finally to get that ‘win from behind’?

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.36 - Bogies
My last poem involving this ref (v Preston), you might recall was less than flattering. Once again he dominates the match and the poem, nothing any ref should ever do.

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.35 - A Matusiwa Smile
This was tense. Hull came to battle hard, defend deep, and hit us on the break if they could. And they did a pretty decent job of it, despite, bizarrely, not actually fashioning an effort on target. So why did it feel so tense then?!

Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.34 - A Variety Of Jams
I think you, the reader of these poems, needs to feel my pain. This weekend it wasn’t with the football, which was excellent. Instead it was a traffic jam on the A12 heading back to my mum’s in Essex, which I was in, and not moving, for three hours. I managed to weave that into this poem, so it wasn’t a total waste.