It feels like an absolute age since 2pm at Hillsborough, just a nudge over two weeks ago, when Nottingham Forest secured their place at the summit of the Championship, following a battling victory over Sheffield Wednesday.
Finally, when waking up yesterday and feeling somewhat like a wide-eyed boy on Christmas morning, with that air of trepidation about what may follow, that nervousness in the pit of your stomach that only comes when you play Derby, it was almost time to make the pilgrimage to the City Ground. One that most of us make 20 odd times a season to see our beloved side play, but few take on the importance or the significance of this one.
Games between Nottingham Forest and their great rivals from the opposite end of Brian Clough Way are rarely dull encounters. Generally it can be best described as chaos with crazy moments, sending offs and it isn't unheard of to have landslide victories for one or the other. There'll only be one fleeting mention to what happened back in March, but this is a very different club to the one that arrived on enemy territory a few months ago. Yes, you saw right. I did say a different club. One that now has been lifted from a form of rubble, to one that has pride, passion and belief, for which one man and one man only is responsible for, ably abetted by John McGovern. Stuart Pearce, the legendary player, a man I grew up worshipping. This is a man that reduced me to tears when he erupted from the tunnel prior to the Reds opening day victory over Blackpool, a man who even at 30 years of age, I still hang on his every word. He has given Forest supporters the world over a reason to believe, again. He's delivered a squad that can win Championship, make no mistake about it, and he's also helped stabilise a club that had far too many issues.
Rightly so, fans would have vacated the City Ground around 3 o'clock yesterday afternoon, feeling somewhat deflated, and understandably so. After all, Forest had battled hard to get themselves in front, courtesy of a truly wonderful goal from Britt Assombalonga and succumbed to a thoroughly soft and entirely avoidable equaliser. Arguably, however, the more poignant moment was after 15 minutes when club captain and the talismanic Chris Cohen collapsed to the lush green grass, yet again, screaming in agony, clutching those damn knees that have blighted a career of one of the most genuine, beautiful people in the game. I know it affected me and it clearly had a lasting impact on many of Chris' teammates. It took Forest, probably until a Neanderthal decided to secure himself a life ban from the ground by having a Sunday stroll on the pitch, to recover from losing Cohen and later Andy Reid. Football can be sensational; it can have ridiculous and disproportionate highs, but horrific and genuinely sad lows. Seeing a man like Chris Cohen lying on the turf, tears in eyes and screaming in agony, is hard to take and just reminds you that what happens over the 90 minutes, pale into insignificance especially when a man's career could be on the line.
Derby may have escaped with a point, a point they deserved for their endeavour but Forest have much to shout about. They have a ground rocking to the old foundations, achieving what I believe to be a modern all-seated attendance record yesterday of 30,227 beating the 30,025 that had to sit through an 8-1 massacre against Manchester United in 1999. A manager who is brutally honest and loves the club as much every single supporter; a chairman with a lasting passion for Forest and a group of players who have ability is a recipe for success. The future is looking beautiful, finally. It'll take a few days to recover from the sheer amount of effort that goes into a Derby game, but at least we can look forward to welcoming Fulham to our patch on Wednesday evening and enjoying more of what is happening Trentside.
Ah, it's so good to have our Forest back.
By Barry Cooper
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