The tantalising reality this evening is that Forest weren’t actually that good.
The Tom Finney curtain which Preston brought instead of travelling supporters might as well have been a white flag of surrender.
For the second successive home game we witnessed a trembling opposition step out of our path, doff their caps and usher us merrily on our assent.
Preston’s performance screamed ‘have the points’ and Furious Bill is not in the business of turning down offers like those.
At 0-0 we were sharp, a 1-0 we were decisive, at 2-0 we were obstinately solid. At 3-0 we had one foot in the bath and another stretching for a play-off ticket.
Every time we scored I found myself pondering the screaming mass of swirling red scarves with the same baffled grin.
When will it end? As a Forest fan whose footballing life started in 1998 I know very well that it has to end at some point.
We are destined to be dismal. It’s a fait accompli.
But that is what makes Baying Bill’s conquest so intriguing. He does not care much for our time-honoured rubric of anti-climax and torture.
This man will spit in as many faces as is necessary to clear a path to glory.
His troops are not too shabby either. Waiting impatiently behind the impossibly mobile Adebola and the attention-hungry Earnshaw was Tyson, the division’s fastest player, McGoldrick, a £1m-rated forward, and Blackstock, a notorious marksmen.
Players like Lewis McGugan and Guy Moussi are sweating buckets just to make the bench. Yesteryear stalwarts Luke Chambers and James Perch – indubitable pillars of the Calderwood saga – are scarcely on the radar.
There is hunger, there is belief, there is competition – and there is a damn good manager shouting about it.
I have absolutely no idea if we can sustain this but I compel you all to raise a sherry to Raging Bill on Friday. We are unbeaten in what feels like a decade and Christmas is looking unusually merry.
Ratings
Camp – 6.5 – the television cameras don’t bring out the best in him. I always get the impression he’s looking at them through the corner of his eye.
Gunter – 6.5 – drifted off course once or twice but a solid performance.
Wilson – 7.5 – exceptional again; strides ahead of last season’s standard.
Morgan – 7.5 – unhindered and unphased by anything, including the introduction of Europe’s fattest strikeforce.
Shorey – 7.5 – the cameras were on, the world was watching, and transfer-hungry Shorey gave a guts-and-all performance of the highest standard. He’ll get his move, if it’s what he’s looking for, but I doubt it will be to Nottingham Forest.
Cohen – 6.5 – a lot of graft, but he’s no fan of the wing and it shows.
Majewski – 7.5 – a touch of continental class with the endearing spirit of Polish endeavour.
McKenna – 8 – a screamer of a goal and an almost flawless shift as he ran the midfield.
Adebola – 7 – continues to excel in ways he isn’t expected to. Did the business.
Earnshaw – 7 – posing aside, he was a real handful.
Subs:
McCleary – 7.5
McGugan – 7.5
Tyson – 7
Merciless Moaner’s Mythering Moment:
I know it was too cold to clap and the sort of weather that literally exterminates elderly people. But if we’ve smashed a team 3-0 all supporters should be forced to stay put until the final whistle. We looked a bit spoiled.
