Au Revoir, Psycho

Once a legend...

 

February 1, 2015: the day football in Nottingham – at least on the red side of the Trent – died. OK, that may be overly dramatic, but it’s a reactionary line to something that has hurt me deeply, as anyone who read my latest column will have worked out.

When Stuart Pearce was appointed, those of us who were around in the late eighties and early nineties were delighted to see a legend of our era back at this football club. It was exciting that those who missed out on him as a player would get to develop their own feelings toward Stuart Pearce.

Unfortunately, as we near the end of the transfer window, and on the back of defeats against Fulham and Milwall, Fawaz Al-Hasawi took the decision to relieve Pearce of his duties. He has offered him an advisory role, which would keep him at the club, but I can’t believe someone as proud as Pearce would accept it.

A few days ago I wrote that I’d prefer to be relegated with Pearce than promoted with Billy Davies. Obviously this had been dipped in hyperbole, but my feeling on it hasn’t changed. I firmly believed Stuart Pearce was the heart of this club. He stands next to Brian Clough in my mind, and the mind of many others. Whether he was to be successful here as a manager or not was secondary to my feeling of excitement that we finally had a manager I could buy into, a manager who held the club as dear as I do. I’m heartbroken that he’s been fired. I’ve never wanted something to work out as much as I wanted Stuart Pearce’s managerial tenure to work out here.

His departure leaves a sour taste. We have to be fair, though: the football hasn’t been great for a long time. But I don’t want to dwell on the bad things. I want to remember the great. That Derby game was better than promotion for me. I feel Pearce’s legacy will live on in young Ben Osborn, providing Fawaz doesn’t cash in on him.

Illustration: Steve Welsh

I think we need to seriously think about who Fawaz will now bring in. What sort of manager will come to this club? We’re under embargo, rumoured to still be paying off four previous managers, our mandated squad size includes players who are crocked for the duration, and we’re unable to replace them. Our expectations are high – very high. And most importantly, the new manager will be replacing someone so loved by us that his first mistake will be greeted with the biggest of jeers.

Well, it turns out that the replacement, Dougie Freedman, has been announced while the firing squad rifles were still smoking, and while I was writing the last paragraph! I suppose we should be thankful Fawaz didn’t go back to Billy Davies, and Freedman may be a good candidate, but, if I’m honest, the idea of anyone replacing Pearce makes me feel a little sick in the stomach. Right now I can’t imagine this team being led by anyone else.

The players are to blame for our league position, not the manager. Why do they always get off scott-free? Why do we blame Pearce when highly-paid players just can’t be bothered? Why do we let player power rule? Our players aren’t world class; they’re mid-table Championship players with a sprinkling of class. That sprinkling is sat in the stands watching us lose and sink slowly to mid-table mediocrity.

Much has been made of the recent slump, yet Pearce leaves us with a 1-in-3 win rate, a 1-in-3 draw rate, and a 1-in-3 loss rate. There’s been talk of relegation worries, but we’re sat twelfth in the league. This decision is hasty and rash (as I tried to explain, at length, with the comparison between the Derby victory and that Mark Robins goal that pulled Fergie back from the brink at Man Utd). It’s the wrong decision, and should have been made at the end of the season when he could rightly be judged, not 28 games and six months into it. He gave us twelve years. We gave him six months. Right now the footballing fraternity of Nottingham – whether it be the vocal types on Twitter or the hierarchy itself – should be ashamed of the treatment dished out to someone who gave his heart to us.

There is no soul left in Nottingham Forest. We are now a product of a system that is designed to exclude us. Even if we get promoted, I have never felt more distant from this football club than I do right now. Three days before the third anniversary of the passing of Nigel Doughty, this club has gone from being family- and city-orientated to something entirely disconnected from our wishes and therefore difficult to care about.

I’ll forever be in love with Nottingham Forest, but at times like this I struggle to even like the club.