Thank God it's over

PUBLISHED: 14:55 03 February 2007 | UPDATED: 10:03 14 September 2010

Thank God January is over. As well as causing bulletin boards to overheat, the transfer window turns supporters turn into nervous wrecks about the comings and goings of players, it sends manager's mobile phone bills into overdrive and causes office workers to nervously twitch their fingers over the F5 key on their clubs website desperate for the latest news.

Thank God January is over. As well as causing bulletin boards to overheat, the transfer window turns supporters turn into nervous wrecks about the comings and goings of players, it sends manager's mobile phone bills into overdrive and causes office workers to nervously twitch their fingers over the F5 key on their clubs website desperate for the latest news.

It evens drives certain chief executives of football clubs to write in the local paper about their day's work. I can recall a story at the end of August along the lines of “Dear Diary, today is 31st August. I worked very hard this evening but no-one would return my calls, even though I waited up till midnight” being published.

So now the dust has settled are Norwich City worse off or better off than a week ago? If anyone answers with a definitive “yes” or “no”, they are either named Peter Grant or they are telling porkies. Personally speaking I have no idea how good our two new signings are. I've heard a few things from a Celtic supporting friend who has reported very favourably on them both, but it is their performances in a yellow shirt that they will be judged on. All I can say is good luck to both Mark Fotheringham and Paul Lappin who have joined Norwich at a very difficult time.

What of the players who have left? The two departures that have made the headlines are Craig Fleming and Carl Robinson and both leave the club with very contrasting updates to their footballing CVs.

Looking positively the first of the two departures, I would like to thank Craig Fleming for the years of great service he has given the club. He was a real unsung hero who did a sterling job in defence and his partnership with Malky MacKay was one of bedrocks of the playoff season and the championship winning year. My best memory of his time with Norwich does not involve his playing a part in a game though. Anyone who was at Reading for that memorable win will remember his first pumping slide with that manic expression on his face after Mulryne had scored as we smashed and grabbed our way to a Neale Barry assisted win at the Madjeski Stadium. It was an unforgettable occasion and a real insight into what it meant to win a game like that at that late stage of the season.

I would like to be able to pay the same glowing tribute to Carl Robinson, but it would not be appropriate for me to do so. Few tears will be shed as a result of his departure by me or many other City supporters. A citizen journalist once described Robinson as having the “Feet of Philip Neville and the Mouth of Gary Neville”, and that is all I can really comment on his twelve month contribution to the club.

My own personal memory of Robinson is also the background on my work laptop. The reason for this? At QPR where my daughter Gemma, was the mascot, she ran out holding Darren Huckerby's hand. As they ran past I took a photo which captured Gemma's worried expression and Darren laughing. In the background - Carl Robinson.

On a lighter note I'd like to finish on by mentioning a pal of mine. He supports Wolves and also called Tim. He's not your normal Wolves fan though. If I asked any Norwich fan how they would describe a typical Wolves fan they would describe them as a grunting neanderthal of less than average intelligence with a picture of Kevin Muscat on their bedroom wall. Tim is not your archetypal Wolves fan though. He lives in London and holds down a good job with one of the top investment management houses in the City. He doesn't grunt and neither is he a neanderthal.

We travelled up together from London to watch the game on Tuesday. We shared a few beers before the game in Squares, and went our separate ways as we sat with our fellow supporters to watch the game. I was looking forward to a post mortem of the match on the train back to the Capital.

The post mortem never happened. Tim ended up cold and lonely after getting the wrong train at Norwich station and getting out at Ely sometime before midnight.

Tim got home very late, but his misfortune was of little consolation. I would have willingly swapped Ely at midnight for three points.

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