A few weeks back, Blackpool Tower was reported to be on fire. When emergency services responded, they realised it was a case of mistaken identity. What had been taken to be flames fanning around the structure turned out to be orange netting caught up in it, blowing around in the wind.
Perhaps it was an omen! Go back a year and Blackpool, the Tangerines, netted four goals against Forest in an embarrassing third round FA Cup thrashing. And here we were again this past Sunday: same clubs, same cup round but a City Ground venue. Pre-match pints in a West Bridgford pub that had a tangerine tee-shirt contingency found me chatting to one of them in the
Gents, as you do.
‘When did you set off this morning?’ I asked.
‘Half eight. Decent journey down. Looking forward to it after last year,’ he smiled.
‘Thanks for the reminder but I think we’re in for a different game this time.’ (3-0 sat in my head.)
‘Maybe so, new manager and all that.’
‘And rediscovering winning ways.’ An amicable exchange.
And that was it. Decent afternoon weather, optimism in the air, good-humoured chants en route to the ground, the prospect of plenty of goals, and then stop. We’d got last minute tickets in the Bridgford End, section Y. ‘Why do you want that entrance?’ quipped a steward when we sought directions and found a queue backing-up to Trent Bridge.
Good humour permeated through patient fans funnelling into four turnstiles. As loud-speaker team announcements spilled our way over the stands and then Mull of Kintyre and then the cheers marking kick-off, we resigned ourselves to missing the action and – all being well – an early Reds’ goal. One mate peeled away to buy food, another wandered over to check out the nearby barber shop. I kept our places in the line as it snail-pace shuffled forwards.
I could have eyed-up every item in the club shop as we slow-motioned past it. A high-vis gang came next.The drugs sniffer-dog took a shine to the friend who’d stuffed his face full of burgers. A bloke behind us got frisked and a woman’s bag searched. All done with a polite smile. By the time we clanked through the turnstile, a good ten minutes after the match had started, patience still prevailed. What a civilised bunch we were!
Out on the pitch, it looked as if Forest were in the same mood as us: friendly, patient, enjoying a sunny afternoon passing the ball from one flank to the other without much intervention from Blackpool. If the Reds had a game of possession football in mind, with an occasional attack to notch up a goal, Blackpool could smell an opportunity. In a counter-attack worthy of Forest themselves, the Tangerines sliced open a barely present defence and first blood went their way. When goal number two soon followed, their small following, tucked into a corner of our stand, erupted in a shower of orange.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The idea was to lord it over lower-league opposition. But, hang on, isn’t this what the FA Cup is all about: giant-killing? Forest were set to be slain – again! And if Forest reduced arrears with more earnest play by half-time, we’d all been reminded that this was a big day out for Blackpool and they’d set themselves to a clear game-plan: do what Forest normally do. Soak up pressure, don’t worry over much about percentage-possession, wait for your chance and make for goal. A simple game.
Which is probably what manager Nuno said in the dressing and it didn’t take him long because he sent his team out well before the restart. Most fans were still munching pies, topping-up on beer, comparing match-notes in urinals or standing around staring at that perfect lime lozenge of a pitch and wondering how it could be so after the relentless rain of recent days.
When play began again, body language told you Forest were in a different frame of mind. Home fans found their collective voice and the ball pinged around with a sense of urgency. Forest might rue the chances they missed but at least Gibbs-White set himself up for a moment of magic. With the deftest of movements, he made enough space to guide home a perfectly-placed shot.
To a singing City Ground, Forest pressed for a winner that wasn’t to be. Lessons learned: onepaced football doesn’t pay; don’t forget the simple defending skill of marking, whoever you face; and don’t underestimate any opposition. Oh, yes, and play with passion.
On their way to becoming FA Cup winners in 1959, Forest survived the scare of a third round 2-2 draw at non-league Tooting & Mitchum before winning the replay 3-0. Where would you like to spend a mid-week break in January? No disrespect to Blackpool (a small town near Preston according to Forest fans!) but that seaside location is unlikely to be on many go-to lists at the moment.
Yet it’s where the Reds have found themselves again! On a bitter night in the north-west, never mind Blackpool illuminations, Forest needed to be on fire to keep fans warm as much as light up the night sky. What they gave us was a reverse performance of that at the City Ground, cruising into a 2-0 lead and then letting it slip. Extra-time is drama for the neutral, painful for the fan. It’s pretty much ‘Next Goal Wins’. And so it was as Wood popped up with the winner. As the BBC commentary concluded, ‘An absolute classic of an FA Cup tie’. A welcome win for travelling fans but that was a tough game for Forest, testing resilience as much as anything else. The Reds will need that and more for the clutch of fixtures coming up, including Round Four with Bristol City at the end of the month.
*Article provided by Stephen Parker (Nottingham Forest Correspondent).
*Main image @NFFC Forest celebrate by dedicating to Cheikhou Kouyate who’s father recently passed away.
