Schadenfreude for Lunch

Since moving to the West Stand and sitting in amongst the kids and families, I have tried to be a bit more controlled as a fan. Although I have always seen the football as a place where you let go a bit, I never felt it was an unlimited excuse to let fly all sorts of abuse in front of literally anybody. So, thinking of the children, I dropped the swearing maybe 75 per cent. For instance, now the result of McKenna “knowing exactly what we need” is that “We’re going to win the La La League” rather than the original lyrics. The aggression has gone almost entirely.

But I must admit that I lost a bit of control yesterday. The volleys of spittle-flecked invective intensified particularly around our equaliser. The amiable gent to my right, who I have been sat next to for more than a season and never caught his name (he knows mine and it’s been too long to ask), hadn’t seen this side of me. Neither had my friend Bill’s innocent kids Eli (9) and Malachi (7), who had worried before the game how bad the swearing from the (often unpleasant) man next to them would be, given the day’s extra provocation.

Sorry boys, today I was the irresponsible adult. They got their season tickets at the beginning of last season, so as far as they’re concerned Ipswich are the Harlem Globetrotters of English football. A variety of useless goons show up at Portman Road, we play around, we sometimes let them have a bit of a kickabout, before we inevitably find new and inventive ways of using the ball to mock them, showboat, and win. I guess it must have been a shock to see that football was something that could make seemingly rational adults genuinely angry.

And, you know, it is futile not to admit it. There are a million ways to rationalise why yesterday’s draw doesn’t really matter, but it did rankle, somewhere deep in my psyche. This should have been the old enemies’ comeuppance after 14 years and it wasn't. Despite being an otherwise stable middle-aged man with a million logical reasons to regard our neighbours as just another group of fans who love their team like we do ours, I did really want to smash them (and they knew it, hence the celebrations, schadenfreude is a powerful thing). I’d have to find a psychologist to find out why I care so much.

Wanted it but maybe didn’t need it. The following morning, the last time we played this fixture flashed back to me. Paul Hurst’s New Era had started slowly but no slower than Daniel Farke’s now parachute-payment-less Norwich had. I recall being on top for at least some of that game (we had 18 shots to their 11, not that you can tell from the highlights we put up), despite Hurst’s eccentric team selection. We took the lead via Gwion Edwards, then very much in the flattering part of his deception, before conceding to a Moritz Leitner drive. In what would turn out to be one of his last games for the club, Jon Walters was one slightly more precise swing of a boot away from earning us a narrow but not entirely undeserved win. A win I needed, like a man lost in the desert needs water.

Wasn’t to be. That time it was desperation, because it honestly seemed at the time as if nothing good might ever happen to the club ever again. Following that lunch time stalemate (Lord, please spare me more 12.30 kick-offs), I might not have predicted those teams would finish the season at diametrically opposite ends of the table, but it somehow still felt like a real opportunity to win a derby after a long time that wasn’t going to come again soon. Indeed, it wouldn’t come for another five long years.

This time felt less like the desperation of a castaway and more like the frustration of getting stuck in traffic. It pisses you off to have to wait, you rant and rave even, but you do know you’ll inevitably get to your destination. If the same performances unfold at Carrow Road, we’ll almost certainly arrive there in April (realistically this game could have been all over by half-time). If not in the Spring, we might have a bit of a wait if it does transpire that we are in different divisions, but I reckon I could probably live with that. These days I’m impatient about beating them, but frankly have other things going on.

I also suspect that once the buzz from the schadenfreude wears off, that scenario might hit those who celebrated in the away end a bit harder. Twelve months ago, their team was fifth in the Championship and Ipswich were in a 3-way promotion tussle in the division below. They will have still fancied their chances of re-establishing a two-division gap with us. Even in August, most of them were still pretty confident they’d thrash us in both games and finish higher in the league. Winger Onel Hernandez certainly seemed to think so and I hope he enjoyed his late substitute appearance as his team shut up shop to defend their point. Life comes at you fast and suddenly it’s limbs in the away end for giving up a 2-1 lead and sloping your way back into 10th place, 21 points behind your local rivals. Malachi loves to tap me urgently on the shoulder and ask questions, at full time it was *tap, tap, tap* “Jack, Jack, why are they celebrating?” Sobering up on Monday morning, you do wonder if the reality of our relative positions might re-assert itself for many.

That is, ultimately, for them to worry about rather than us. We can rest pretty easy, particularly with our 10-point cushion to third still intact, our “tricky December” mostly navigated, our local rivals trailing far in the distance, our Captain still not-quite-suspended, our forwards still doing big numbers and January reinforcements on the horizon. We’ll get them soon enough (and I do wonder if the emotions might be easier to manage at Carrow Road in April). Rest easy in theory that is. There remains that little dull ache in the stomach. The little rankle. Their chipper banter. The why couldn’t we just beat them. I called that psychologist though and he reckons a win at Leeds should clear that right up.  

Ipswich Town v Norwich City, Match Stats

Possession 65%: 35%

Goals 2:2

Expected goals 2.07: 0.81

XGOT 1.19:0.68

Shots 18:11

Shots inside box 14:8

Shots on target 5:3

Big chances 2:1

Big chances missed 1:0

Passes 490: 238

Passes in opposition half 274:72

Accurate crosses 11:3

Touches in opposition box 37:14

Successful dribbles 14:6

Duels won 54:46

Fouls 11:8

Corners 6:3