Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.41 - Rocks
Written by The_Flashing_Smile on Sunday, 12th Apr 2026 10:52

I don’t know about you, but I’m still grinning.

This game, a first Ipswich win at Carrow Road for 20 years, and a first double in 33, was breathless. A dodgy pen, with a delayed reaction giving it. Chances saved. Corner after corner after corner for the hosts. Potential red cards, including the subbing on and subbing off again of returning hero/villain Marcelino Núñez.

And yet weirdly, this poem doesn’t even mention the scorers. So apologies to the ice-veined Jaden Philogene, who dispatched the penalty, and George Hirst, who smashed in the second. But for me, this performance was all about the defence. Particularly captain Dara O’Shea and his centre-half partner Jacob Greaves. Just incredible. Absolute rocks.

Norwich City 0:2 Ipswich Town, 11/04/2026

Rocks

Stop.
Stop all the clocks.
Pull up a pew and pull up your socks.
I need to talk to you, about rocks.
There’s a place
you can easily lose face.
Feasibly be
in a war of attrition, like a mission to space.
A budgies’ nest where they puff their chests in string vests
and test your mettle, the pests!
So it’s best you don’t rest.
I jest, just settle.
You’ve got the best staff
and two rocks at centre half
to choose, like granite statues
or two giraffes in platform shoes.
Towering, overpowering, all-devouring.
Bodies on the line.
Right place, right time,
timing tackles and grapples absolutely spot on, fine.
Like fine wine. Umami.
A tsunami of solid, as certain as an iron curtain
in a foreign field. A pumped fist
stronger than Artemis’s heat shield.
Unyielding, when the temperature’s building.
But a confession - Norwich had the possession
and corners, but if that’s all you get
then you’re set to be mourners.
Sheep asleep in sheep’s clothes.
Consumers, crooners and boomers baiting Núñez;
here he comes - there he goes.
Rocks in his head, ment
al, a masterstroke (who knows?)
that throws them off the scent.
Days like this are heaven-sent.
A feast for the eyeballs, against
your rivals.
Dealing with high balls.
You don’t need prayer mats, black cats or bibles.
Just blocks.
Rolled up sleeves,
O’Shea and Greaves.
Rocks.

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armchaircritic59 added 00:02 - Apr 13 Indeed they were. Wouldn't surprise me if they headaches on Sunday morning with so much heading practice! Keep the good work coming.
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