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Between The Lines, The Irreverent Poetry Of Ipswich Town. No.45 - The Point by The_Flashing_Smile

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 by The_Flashing_Smile

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 by The_Flashing_Smile

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? by tractorboykent

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 by The_Flashing_Smile

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.

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