Delirious contentment and boundless optimism were the prevailing motifs of the opening weekend, but today was all about making a resounding return to ground level. An early morning start, a bad head, an irksome journey and a disappointing defeat in swirling rains. It all seemed uncomfortably familiar.
And for the first thirty minutes our performance was indeed befitting of the third tier.
Swansea systematically dismantled our possession game and sprayed the ball through gaping holes in our defence with an embarrassing ease.
What little our hosts didn’t break down we broke down for ourselves; passes were aimless and incessantly failed to reach their targets, and our defenders played musical statues through every counter attack.
As the Welshmen attacked in waves, our defenders waving them gaily by, I felt a familiar sinking feeling of ‘this is going to be a long day’.
We’ve all had it. Usually it surfaces when you have spent the days leading up to a game imagining bright sunshine, flowing lagers and boisterous chanting without ever actually thinking about the football.
It’s a quite daunting realisation, and coupled with last Sunday’s deceptively pleasant affair it was rather like returning to work after a fortnight’s holiday.
Swansea’s opener triggered pandemonium amidst the grunting, snarling locals who drowned out the travelling contingent for a fairly long time. Forest were doing little to little to dampen the mood.
Were it not for Perch’s equaliser, borne out of an inspired solo battle by Lee Martin, we could comfortably have lost the game without forcing as much as one clear cut chance.
It had been shaping up to be one of those days, and it’s a fitting reflection of the afternoon’s fortunes that the scoreline eventually told the tale of a reasonably comprehensive defeat in spite of our revival.
The equaliser took away Swansea’s edge; their momentum slipped and they retreated several yards.
By the start of the second half we had time, space and a renewed ability to retain possession.
The signs were good, and for perhaps 10 minutes we looked capable of going on to register a victory.
But Swansea’s counter attacks, bursting with energy, efficiency, pace and movement, were ultimately our downfall.
The penalty was dubious and notably typical of a referee who short changed us all afternoon. There was no coming back a second time.
Swansea threatened constantly to strike us again on the break, which they eventually did, and we were running into cul-de-sacs.
The third goal probably wasn’t deserved on the back of our improved second half, but the three points were rarely in doubt all afternoon.
Yet there’s no reason to panic. In the second half we showed glimpses of what it is everybody has been shouting about, and we weren’t dismantled to the extent that we should suddenly fear for the club’s safety.
All of that optimism was getting a bit nauseating anyway, wasn’t it?
