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Melissa Rudd

There’s nothing quite like the first home league game of the season.

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The fact that an overzealous goal celebration has formed a large part of what is usually a depressing post-mortem from Craven Cottage is a rather apt continuation of what has been a summer of transformation at Norwich City.

It may have been a truly forgettable season, but Sunday’s SkyBet Championship finale felt as though it was the closing chapter of a rollercoaster era in Norwich City’s history.

Back in June, after Garry Monk had just been announced the new head coach of Leeds, I took on a bet offered by an overexcited colleague from Yorkshire.

It was supposed to be Brighton’s Championship title winning party procession. It turned into the Alex Pritchard show.

Unbridled joy should have been the overriding emotion as the half-time whistle blew on Saturday.

Lacklustre defending, ill-discipline and another away defeat. Old habits certainly die hard.

When the dust has settled and this season is consigned to the history books, there will be a generation of Norwich City fans who will remember Alex Neil as the man who took us to Wembley.

It says a lot about this torrid season that Norwich reserved one of their worst performances for a game they had to win to have maintained any realistic hopes of salvaging a top-six finish.

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