| They Came As Lads we Barely Knew 07:20 - Aug 10 with 606 views | Keno | I dont always find it easy to put how I feel into words but with Burns departing last week it did feel like the end of an era that has been oh so special. And so the following has emerged to try and sum up how I feel about 'those lads, that time and our team' They came as lads we barely knew To play for Town in white and blue As all our hopes they did renew Of heights to which we’d rise From the depths that seemed extreme Slowly they all became our team But did we even dare to dream Of heights to which we’d rise The sight of Davis on the run Cut back for Chappers oh what fun Lets not forget the Wessie Bun As to those heights we rise So Morsy and McKennas men Will we ever see their like again Or just remember now and then As to those heights we rise So a new era now will start Those lads as men must now depart They will live on within our heart As to higher heights we’ll rise For they have made our future bright New heroes now wear Blue and White One aim to keep us in top flight As to higher heights we’ll rise |  |
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| They Came As Lads we Barely Knew on 07:40 - Aug 10 with 464 views | Guillermo_Edwards | Bless you, this is wonderful What an era we've lived through, and onwards to another! |  | |  |
| They Came As Lads we Barely Knew on 09:20 - Aug 10 with 174 views | Cheltenham_Blue | Twenty-twenty, Portman Road, football played in crisis mode. League One. Again. Fleetwood Tuesday. Rochdale rain. Crewe away and back again. Marcus Evans barely stirred, the badge said Town, the league said third. Paul Lambert talked and talked, explaining “progress” while the football walked. Then Lambert went. Paul Cook came in with sleeves rolled up and a demolition grin. The squad went out, the signings came, new faces, new shirts, roughly the same game. Cook promised revolution. December arrived. So did redundancy. Then Kieran McKenna. Young. Polite. No famous glare. No managerial folklore there. Just coaching. Actual coaching. Christ. We’d forgotten that was allowed. Burns bombed on. Chaplin scored. Morsy kicked what needed kicking. Leif went left at frightening speed and suddenly Ipswich Town looked like a football team. Promotion. Then the Championship. “Consolidate,” they said. Ipswich interpreted this as “finish second.” Leicester had millions. Leeds had stars. Ipswich had Wes Burns charging around like someone had stolen his car. Huddersfield came. Two-nil. Premier League. Twenty-two years waiting for the promised land, delivered by a bloke who looked like he’d just finished presenting the quarterly figures. Then came Liverpool. City. Arsenal. Chelsea. Every misplaced pass became national telly. We played brave. We played well. We also discovered that bravery against Manchester City has limited resale value. Down we went. McKenna stayed. Back to the Championship with expectation attached: “You’ll walk it.” Nobody walks the Championship. It kicks you in the shins, steals your wallet and sends you to Stoke on a Tuesday. The start was awkward. The internet reacted with its customary calm perspective. Then Town got moving. Again. Promotion. Again. Three promotions in four seasons. League One. Championship. Premier League. Championship. Premier League. Ipswich Town: the footballing equivalent of a man repeatedly pressing the lift buttons. Then McKenna left. Five extraordinary years, legend secured, Suffolk slightly bereaved. Enter Gary O’Neil. New manager. New clipboard. Same basic assignment: keep Ipswich Town in the richest league on Earth while half the opposition can afford to buy Suffolk. And that’s the last six years. Lambert talking. Cook rebuilding. McKenna transforming. O’Neil inheriting. From Accrington away to Premier League Saturday. From “perhaps the play-offs” to “who are we signing next?” And after all the owners, managers, money and xG, one eternal truth remains: Ipswich Town will beat somebody brilliant, then lose the following week to a side who haven’t won since February. Because managers change. Divisions change. Expectations change. But Ipswich Town will always find a completely original way to ruin or considerably improve your weekend. |  |
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