 The Mighty Ipswich Town Football ClubWritten by adamisablue on Saturday, 8th Dec 2012 22:54 So I'm sitting in my new local cafe in Amsterdam for another Champions League clash for Ajax of Amsterdam. Just sitting there minding my own business, drinking my pint when, all of a sudden, I'm flanked by a group of Spanish lads wearing Real Madrid replica shirts. Then, something happened which I will never forget. Upon finding out I was English, they sparked a conversation (with their best Spanglish) and asked me, "What football team I supported in England?". Without hesitation, "The mighty Ipswich Town Football Club!" I replied, with I must say a hint of irony (talking to supporters of an actual mighty club). They looked bemused. "Not Man U? Not Chelsea? Why Ipswich?" So I told them, (and there are a few more answers that I've thought about since, just to pull a few memory strings). The day my best friend at the time, a guy called Daniel Godfrey (if you're reading this or anyone knows him tell him I said hi), took me to my first game, Ipswich-Southend, a 1-1 draw with Micky Stockwell scoring. The smell of the Portman Road pitch, the roar of the crowd that day, the floodlights shining, being amongst the 9,000-odd on a cold wet Tuesday against Swindon. Steve Sedgley slamming the post in the last minute of extra-time in the first play-offs. The mighty Manchester United being humbled at Portman Road (twice!) and singing to them "Can we play you every week!". Beating Norwich 5-0 with an Alex Mathie hat-trick and the new boy Bobby Petta scoring twice. Mauricio Taricco galloping down the wing "like a cheetah on the plains of the Serengeti!". Being disappointed that we couldn't sign both Matt Holland and Kevin Phillips, so we settled on Holland (what a bad signing that turned out to be, hey?). David Johnson scoring for fun, the absolute DIN that stadium used to make on the big matchdays, the bus ride of the old players returning with the FA Cup they won 20 years ago. "Mr Robson?" as me and my mate approached him. "Please call me Bobby," he said winking and signing a bit of cardboard we found. More play-off hurt. A bit more play-off hurt. Sitting in my seat week in, week out watching a team that actually cared, Holland's victory laps. Missing out on automatic promotion to face, you guessed it, more play-offs. The best game of football I've ever seen live (and boy I've seen a few) followed by Jim's last minute equaliser and winning the play-off semi-final. Queuing up the night before outside the ticket office and camping at Portman Road just to get my tickets for Wembley. Being so excited on Wembley matchday I walked from Whitehouse to Nacton because I couldn't sleep. Wembley (need I say more?). The party and atmosphere in the town that night, people lining the streets, singing late into the night, the car horns, the "Well done lads!" banner that greeted the fans and players on the way back. THAT season which followed. Alun Armstrong rising like a salmon at the back post against Inter. I understand we haven't had too many memories like this in recent times, since the forced sale of our team back in 2005, and we've had a few false starts with this new regime, and some people complain that we have no soul since the takeover, but the memories I've stated above keep the soul alive, and no one can take that away from us. And the best bit is, we were there every single step of the way. It is exactly the reason I looked a Real Madrid supporter in the eye and proudly told him "I support the MIGHTY Ipswich Town Football Club!" Please report offensive, libellous or inappropriate posts by using the links provided.
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