The ACN match review 25/26: Derby (a) | OneFootball

How did we play?

Like the living embodiment of an existential crisis. In the classic existentialist novel, Dostoevsky’s ‘Notes from Underground’ it is written that “In despair there are the most intense enjoyments, especially when one is very acutely conscious of the hopelessness of one’s position,” and although historically this would have been one of my justifications for coming to watch a struggling Norwich side play in Derby on a wet October evening I have to say I’m no longer even sure this holds. 

Like, what is the point? What am I doing here? What are these players doing here, moving around the wet grass with doubt and uncertainty etched across their faces? What is life’s purpose, we wonder, even as it passes with the shocking brevity of a swallow passing through from one end of the barn to another?

It’s often said, by fans of less-successful football teams, that it’s the hope that kills you. Right now, I would love a bit of that delicious fatal hope. 

I mean, sure, the first half was okay. We were decent, to an extent.  But we were never actually going to score, were we?

What was the best bit of the game?

Kovacevic made a couple of incredible saves in the second half, and in general was absolutely everything you want from a goalkeeper – massive, in all senses of the word. He looks like he absolutely loves being a keeper and making those saves. With any other keeper, we would have lost 3-0, and it was a joy to see someone take so much pride in their game. 

What was the worst bit of the game?

Just after the first of those world-class saves, the Norwich defence made a series of crappy half-arsed attempts to clear the ball – some people would describe it as “not the behaviours we’re looking for” – and Derby scored a crappy undeserved goal. Kovacevic looked like he absolutely hates playing for this team. 

What was the atmosphere like?

Despite everything that’s gone on lately, the Norwich fans gave it some decent noise in the first half, spurred on by the goal that was so obviously coming. When the second half did what it did, the existential crisis took hold and there was a pointedly retro turn to the singing: Holt, Hoolahan, Farke, and Sara were all celebrated at length. Full-time was toxic. Credit, here, to Mattson and Marcondes, who stood in front of the booing Norwich fans in apparently genuine contrition long after the rest of the team had fled. 

Hero of the match

No.

Summary in Five Words

Heaven knows I’m miserable now.