...came (again) true in Bergen, Norway on Saturday. Derby with the early kick off against Leeds at the iPro, and me on a travel to Bergen with no coverage of the match. Restlessly walking up and down the streets on a hunt for somewhere broadcasting the match on Sky...
Well, the clock was ticking against one o`clock when I saw a big Leeds banner outside a pub. Really distressed I walked inside the crowd, and proudly but calmly said to the bartender I am a Rams supporter, and asking for a cup of coffee and a coke for my son...! Having said that I must stress that I`m not a big guy, and have a rather slim body, so maybe that`s why the man behind the desk said me and my son could go down to the cellar, and to a dark corner, where there was a telly. In the main cellar, some meters away, there were a hord of Leeds supporters ... My son clearly said - father don`t yell if Derby scores!
I`m so proud about the players entering the field. Tears in my eyes and my heart beating fast...! But what happens. Leeds fans applauding! And my son and me sitting there embarressed about the play. No guts. No muscles. No lust for winning? Then Leeds scored and the whole cellar exploded... So it suddenly stroke me - the play on the ground was just like the show in the cellar - easy match! Me with my coffee was just like the Rams-players, and the Leeds fans with their beers like the Leeds squad on the pitch - in hunt for blood. "Dirty-Leeds" - but were they dirty? Not really this time I suppose, last year they were - now only better! To be honest, one of the Leeds-fans came over in the break saying it was the best he had seen Leeds play this season... I tried rather cowardly saying it was no corner that laid to the goal, but admitted we`d been outplayed...
The second half started like a storm of rampant Rams. Out of nothing the whole game changed. And when Martin scored there was a loud single outburst in the cellar screaming YEEESSS - when I came to mind what I had promised my son. And afterwards, when the Rams played for some ten minutes more, there was not a single sound in the cellar - everyone waiting for the next Derby goal. But as the minutes passed away the Derby-players seemed to run out of ideas, playing backwards rather than forward. And when George Thorne limped off, and Johnny ran out of steam and was replaced, I was expecting the worst...
About a quarter to go my son whispered - they`re gone lose. Yes, and rightly so, the hunt for blood was over when again the cellar exploded, and I sneaked out the backdoor. Humiliated once more. The QPR-feeling. Angry. With tears in my eyes. It shurely ain`t no easy job being a Derby supporter.... And for 45 years I`m still waiting for that little bit of glory. The waiting and the joy of being a part of the best fans and the best club in the world - my dearest Derby County... COYR!
Gustav
- and old Ram from Norway!
