End of Season Awards

Don't Look Back in Anger, but with Fondness.

On 27 September 1986, around 1.5 million balloons were released into the sky in Cleveland with the purpose of fundraising and setting a world record.

Preparations were extensive and started six months prior to the release date. The balloons were housed in a huge rectangular structure, covered with mesh netting, inside of which up to 2,500 volunteers gave up their time to pump helium into the balloons in an assembly-line style operation.

When the big day arrived, a rainstorm lurking in the vicinity prompted the organisers to go early and the previous world record set at Disneyland the previous year was broken.

Hurrah for everyone involved. Everyone had fun. A new world record was set. Huge amounts of funds were raised.

Except that wasn’t the case. At least, the fun part. Not everyone had fun. The fun stopped pretty abruptly.

The front of cool air and rain meant the still inflated balloons careered back down to earth, causing chaos down below. Copious amounts of traffic collisions were reported. A runway at the airport had to be closed down. The waterways became clogged with inflated plastic. A search and rescue operation for two fishermen was severely disrupted, hampering visibility. Two days later, their bodies washed ashore.

They came to celebrate, but once the dust settled, everyone no doubt felt a little bit sheepish.

All of which brings us neatly to Forest’s attempts to qualify for the Champions League on the final day of the season.

But let’s reel ourselves in a little first. All that happened at the City Ground was that Forest did not quite achieve something nobody expected them to do in the first instance. More pertinently, nobody died as an indirect result of this supposed failure.

Admittedly, we came with our metaphorical balloons. We came clutching hope and expectation close to our chests. We came with smiles and no doubt a sense of self-congratulation. We came to celebrate.

We left feeling (ahem) deflated.

But as our hopes and dreams rained back down onto us, we eventually found ourselves wading through multi-coloured debris which cheered us up, or at least initiated a faint flicker of a smile.

After all, we didn’t mean no harm in the first place. Our intentions were good. And like Cleveland, we did break a number of records before things went wrong. So, in many ways – and reminding ourselves that nobody died as a result of us reaching for the sun – the attempt was a success. We looked down at our feet and found ourselves with things we didn’t even expect to gather in the first instance.

Sure, it would have been just wonderful if every one of the balloons had drifted serenely into the sky the way they should have. But our lives, and especially sport, is subject to countless forces all pushing and pulling in different directions, blowing us from our desired course. Sometimes, you just have to accept this.

Moreover, such forces are often more powerful than our own desires and have almost definitely had more money spent on them. So there is that too.

Regardless, it’s been the kind of season that if you had a VHS or DVD of it, you’d watch over and over again. In eight years or so, you will watch a Premier League Years type review of this season late on a Saturday evening of an international break and find yourself grinning from ear to ear. And it will be nice.

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In a breath-taking exhibition of hubris, here are my awards:

Best moments:

So many. So, so many.

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off (the) shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. I watched Nottingham Forest win at Anfield. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.

Naturally, the final whistle at Old Trafford.

Clearly Hudson-Odoi against Manchester City.

Sure. All of those. But these too:

The ten seconds or so when Chris Wood scored against Liverpool at the City Ground. Even the most pessimistic Forest fan started to suspect something special was unfolding this season.

When Ryan Yates converted the penalty at Brighton to take us through to Wembley for a semi-final tie. That was a perfect moment, elongated by the never-ending chorus of Que sera sera, whatever will be will, we’re going to Wem-ber-lee. The players and staff loved it just as much as us, maybe even more than us.

Anthony Elanga’s run and goal against Manchester United was perhaps the most surreal moment of the season, despite the speed of the whole thing, it seemed to play out in slow motion in which every single one of us present was thinking precisely the same thing: pass it to Morgan Gibbs-White. And when he didn’t, and did what he did instead, then that was just fine too.

Coming back from a goal down to somehow beat Aston Villa 2-1 in added time. Elanga’s winner was oddly both completely unexpected, yet at the same time, on the cards. Ah, so that’s what it feels like to support a team that feels unbeatable.

Simply watching Gibbs-White and Murillo play football has been a pleasure all season.

Worst moments:

Bournemouth away. A whole 97 minutes’ worth of moments. Unfathomable.

The moment in added time against Everton when Murillo looked up with the intention of hoisting a long ball into the box, but then somehow forgot how feet worked – how feet actually work.

For a man of such talent, that is one bad moment for him to look down at his feet and suddenly wonder what those weird five-toed things protruding from the bottom of his legs were. It was a truly awful moment which in retrospect was the very moment things started slipping through our fingers.

We all knew that one point would have been preferable to zero from that game, and it proved to be the difference between Europa and Conference League.

Biggest villain:

Sure, we can scream Anthony Taylor, and fans of recency bias will be yelling Gary Neville. But these are more pantomime villains really – there for the very purpose of being shouted at.

No. The real villain is the person/persons that scheduled our FA Cup games. Whoever did this should be made to drive to Exeter on a Tuesday night in February and back again but must not be allowed to set off home until at least 11.00pm. They should also be made to drive to Brighton and back on a Saturday night and just for good measure, be made to go the most circuitous route available on the way home, just for laughs.

The rescheduling of these games for the days and times wasn’t just nonsensical, it was bordering on cruelty.

Biggest moan/gripe:

For starters, the random rescheduling of FA Cup games. But let’s chuck in the random rescheduling of Premier League games too. If the country had a reliable and affordable rail and road network that allowed relatively easy access around it from north to south and east to west, perhaps such rescheduling would be more tolerable. But it doesn’t.

Not only have we all peaked with our exasperation with VAR, but every single alteration and amendment to make it better just seems to be making it more clunky. Case in point: the addition of semi-automated offside decisions which in theory should speed up the process in determining whether a player is offside or not. Except, nobody bothered to explain to us that this probably won’t function when players all bunch together, as they are wont to do when a corner or free kick takes place.

Apart from that though, yeah, everything else works flawlessly, except on the many occasions when it doesn’t.

Serious consideration must now surely be afforded to two simple questions of VAR: what is its purpose and is it achieving those aims? That’s not to say we should necessarily ditch all aspects of it, but to recognise which aspects of it work and which don’t. Simply put, VAR needs to undergo an existential crisis and some sort of intervention.

How did it get to the point where we all somehow accept that a 5% rise on season card prices is acceptable? Is if that we are simply conditioned now to accept that everything simply must go up in price once a year? In isolation, such a rise may be expected, but measure that against any previous rises then ask yourself how much things have gone up over a longer period of time and whether those figures are acceptable. Then consider how much the entity taking more money from you is cash-strapped or whether it has other huge revenues from which it gains its funding.

Simply put, your Premier League football club does not need to raise its season card prices. Not all do. Yours that does makes a choice to do so when it could easily make a choice not to.

Most enjoyable away day:

What a delightful list to consider.

Obviously, Anfield and Old Trafford. Probably by a million miles. But, in loose order, the following were hugely enjoyed:

Everton: those goals were outstanding and went some way to exorcising the events there of the previous season and the whole fall-out from that… the tweet and allegations of corruption and subsequent fines and all that jazz.

Wolves: Morgan’s goal. At Wolves. Against a set of fans who horribly baited him. Taiwo’s goal and how everyone was so happy for him to score a goal for us.

Leicester: watching Wout Faes run through treacle while his head fell off looking up into the sky in a vain attempt to work out where the ball was before Chris Wood went and headed the ball into the net was pure comedy genius.

Brentford: we never win here, until we do.

Tottenham: rarely have we seen a Forest side come out so determined to get into the lead from the start of a game. It worked a treat too.

West Ham: similar to the game above. The desire to right some wrongs was palpable.

Ipswich: just delightful, watching Elanga’s jet-heels in motion.

Southampton: yeah, yeah only Southampton, but we didn’t know that for sure at the time and to win away on the opening day was significant.

Chelsea: we could have won it, you know.

Brighton: with ten men.

Most difficult away day:

Brighton. Parking anywhere near is almost out of the question. This wouldn’t be so bad were there an excellent train system to get you there and out again. But there isn’t. What there is remains inadequate, unless you are a fan of queueing without cover for at least 30 minutes and then being squeezed onto an already busy train. In fairness, this can be avoided by either leaving before the final whistle or sprinting to the station the moment the referee raises their whistle to their lips to blow for full-time.

Maybe Brighton fans are accustomed to it by now, or maybe even their own fans are growing weary of this.

Bournemouth. It just doesn’t get any nearer, does it?

Most underwhelming away day:

Aston Villa. It has all the ingredients for a great day. Beautiful building, housed in a park in England’s second city and near the M6. Getting in and out should be easy by car and even easier by train. Furthermore, given the above it should have a range of welcoming pubs to explore before and after.

No, no and no. Maybe I’ve been doing Villa Park wrong and there are better ways to do it. I really want to love Villa Park, but it makes it hard for away fans to do so.

Weirdest moment:

For home games, me and my 83-year-old dad often walk past The Nest – the designated away fans’ pub housed at Notts County’s ground. It is well policed and away fans tend to be friendly, often asking us where The Nest is or how best to get to the away end over the river. Such exchanges almost always end with a ‘enjoy the game’. This is how things should be.

Only once have we encountered anything different. As we walked past The Nest housing Leicester fans, two teenagers hung their arms out between the railings and scowled at us, like the undead reaching out for life. Under their breath, and after checking any police officers were out of range, they hissed in unison, ‘Forest bastards’ at us.

Frankly, this was more hilarious than intimidating.

Things that happened that we forgot happened:

James Ward-Prowse just generally, but especially comedically getting sent off at Chelsea.

Alex Moreno’s performance at Anfield, which was perhaps the greatest debut ever by a Forest player.

Matz Sels almost chucking the ball into his own goal at Anfield.

Taiwo’s injury at Exeter followed by him walking queasily through the away terrace during extra-time. Surreal.

The Upper Bridgford pretty much empty owing to frozen steps for the first ten minutes or so of the cup tie against Luton. That, or the failure of the digital only ticket trial.

Morgan Gibbs-White inexplicably picking a fight with Nikola Milenkovich towards the end of the home game against Manchester City after a misplaced pass nearly presented City with an equaliser.

Andre Onana’s shenanigans at Old Trafford in the 3-2 win. Not content with diving away from Morgan’s shot which resulted in a goal, he surpassed this with his antics in added time when in his rush to take a quick free kick, he didn’t stop the ball from moving when he kicked it. Not once, but twice. The sight of the referee making a gesture of exasperation towards him for being such an idiot was laugh-out-loud funny.

Harry Toffolo’s goal line clearance at Tottenham.

Murillo’s goal line clearance against Southampton.

Murillo’s goal line clearance against Manchester United.

Most looking forward next season to…

A tough one. Difficult to decide between Bournemouth or Brighton away…

Oh, alright then.

The continuation of the outstanding form of Neco Williams.

Danilo reminding us he is the player we thought he was.

Ibrahim Sangare turning out to be the player we were told he was.

Morgan Gibbs-White and Murillo playing football together (please?)

A general acceptance that our league form may not be as excellent as it was this season owing to a number of factors.

A record-breaking fourth consecutive season in the Premier League. Uncharted territory.

More weekly debates with friends regarding which Forest player has chosen the best outfit for training that day. (The answer is always Nicolas Dominguez.)

Some more fun.

Football games. Away. In Europe. Not friendlies. But actual competitive football matches against actual foreign teams.

Sensational.

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Daniel Storey completed all 92 grounds this season and learned things – 92 things in fact. A wonderful read.

I am ‘as it stands’ (depending on how you measure it in this hinterland between knowing which final club will take their pace from the National League), on 90. Earlier in the season, I compiled my own list of observations from visiting almost all 92 grounds. If you can’t access Storey’s, here are mine.

Click here to read part I.

Click here to read part II.

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One of my books, ‘The History Boys: Thirty Iconic Forest Goals’, has been reprinted in paperback, with a lovely review quote on the front cover. Click here if you fancy buying a copy.

Since publication, it feels like Forest have scored at least another 30 iconic goals…