A lot of pretentious types have made a considerable fuss this week about the Olympic Games knocking football from its back page pedestal.
Others have revelled effusively in catchphrases like ‘greatest show on earth’ and feigned unmitigated joy as Britain’s medal tally spiralled.
Personally I spent the week looking forward to 3pm today.
And to have guaranteed entertainment like that in advance of this afternoon? I’d have hand-packed every gold medal and paid the postage back to Beijing.
It’s afternoons like today’s that offer vital reminders of what following football is really worth. And it just can’t be matched.
Five goals, a lorry-load of chances, tension in potentially fatal quantities, songs reverberating about the City Ground and – ultimately – three beautiful points.
The collective relief and exuberance had the stairways and streets buzzing, and to wash it all down with news of a Derby County home defeat – well, it’s almost too much to enjoy at once.
All of this probably reads like a foreign language to people who don’t follow football, and it’s a great shame.
Each to their own, as the saying goes. Some people get their kicks from picking out garments in New Look, or taking photographs of trees, or enjoying weekend breaks in Wales, or writing poems and sending them to Reader’s Digest.
That’s absolutely fine. But you just don’t know what you’re missing out on.
Of course, in a few weeks time we’ll probably be cursing a ‘wasted’ afternoon and feeling very sorry for ourselves again.
It’s all part of the magic – if it wasn’t for the lows, the highs probably wouldn’t feel this good.
In terms of performance this afternoon we were far from perfect, but we lined up with enormous attacking intention and that is the most satisfying thing of all.
Despite the standard of opposition being far lower, there is every likelihood that the same midfield system would have been deployed almost as a flat five 12 months ago.
Instead Garath McCleary and the exceptional Lee Martin were glued to the Watford full backs. They moved to supply Earnshaw from the channels with an energy and a volatility that we haven’t seen for years.
Chris Cohen and fans’ favourite Guy Moussi provided eclectic and determined support for every counter attack, and not once did we lack imagination or direction in the final third.
There were extended periods when possession was sloppy and Watford’s physical, direct approach bullied the game into their favour.
But League One’s Forest would have responded with an impotent cocktail of long balls and sidewards football into cul-de-sacs.
Today we roved forward at every occasion, we left men forward when defending corners, we hurried throw-ins and harried possession even at 2-1 up.
It was, to regrettably summon a Calderwood cliché, a “real treat”.
It’s morbidly, perhaps embarrassingly, amusing that a few days ago we were in tears over the injury crisis and struggling to see where a win would come from.
Three points and a bit of real entertainment; that’s entertainment the football way, can make a remarkable difference.
This weekend it’s a bronze medal for Southampton, a silver medal for Forest, and a gold medal for football.
We bloody love it.
