The Diary

02 March 2004: A Carrow Canary Shoot, Or Throttled Throstles?

Oh, boy, tomorrow night?s game is going to be a real spine-tingler, and I can?t say I?m all that confident about the outcome. Reasons? First off, as I pointed out yesterday, historically, we always crash and burn at Carrow Road. We?ve also just come out of a pretty gruelling game which should have ended with a much better result for us, while Norwich, bless their little yellow feathers, simply put their feet up by the fire, supped on a nice cup of tea, and waited for us to stuff up. Result? Thanks to the severity of the weather in the north-east, they?ve had a bit of a respite from the cares and woes of the Nationwide, and we haven?t. The more I think about tomorrow night, the more I realise it?s imperative we get something from it, as Wigan are visiting Gillingham that night also. Should Norwich take us to the cleaners, then The Latics could well be waiting in the wings, and ready to swipe our runners-up mantle. Let?s face it, if Ellington really turns it on, The Gills will simply curl up and die, as they did versus us, in October.

I?m not holding out much hope of us pulling off a shock tomorrow, but, if we are going to at least try, then going for the fear-ridden defensive option, showing them too much respect, in the manner we did versus Wigan at their place, is completely the wrong thing to do. I?ve said it before, so I?ll say it again: as Jimmy Hagan used to say, attack is the best form of defence. I believe Clausewitz said it as well, but I won?t meet you on the car-park over it. Megson, in his post-match press conference, branded our performance versus Rotherham, "boring", and, that first 20 apart, he was quite right, but whose bloody fault was that? He?s the manager, he?s the one who calls the shots from the touchline ? and very loudly, may I say ? and has more than sufficient power of command at his disposal to communicate his displeasure in no uncertain terms. But that?s all by the way, now. Packing the defence and hoping that will be enough to negate any menace from the opposition won?t be enough at Carrow Road, which is why we need to break with our normal game-plan.

Instead of hoping to bore the opposition to death, then sneak one, and sending our supporters into the land of Nod at the same time, let?s go for broke, go for 4-4-2, live dangerously, and the hell with it. And why stop there? Why not import hordes of lustful maidens into the dressing room, then spend the time leading up to the game indulging in wild and passionate group sex, mostly involving the liberal use of spray cans of squirty cream and stout leather whips? Hell, there?s only one lifetime out there, so come on, Gary, loosen up a little! Er- on reflection, perhaps the group sex, and squirty cream might not be such a good idea, but you know what I mean. The whips? Oooh, my place or yours, duckie? And, please, please, no playing of left-backs on the right side of the field, or similar! The only way to conquer the Canaries lies in going at them, right from the start, and that means putting Lloyd Dyer on the left, and giving him complete licence to turn the afterburners on full-blast. He?s got the ability to really get behind their defence, then lob in some really telling crosses, for Hughsie and The Horse to make of them what they will. We really have to knock the stuffing out of them early, because if we don?t they will, with added interest. Getting Huckerby from right underneath our noses was a pretty cute piece of business, when you come to think about it, and I?d hate to see him really rub our noses in it tomorrow.

We?re making a day of it, culture-vultures that we are, so it?ll be a ten o?clock start for us Dick Eds. In fact, Norwich has quite a history wrapped around it, so for your delectation, and in true Delia Smith (see later) fashion, ?here?s a few facts I?ve strung together earlier.? In the middle ages, Norwich was the largest city outside London. Dominated by its magnificent 900 year-old Norman cathedral, Norwich has the most medieval churches in Europe; over 30 exist within its old city walls alone. The present structure of Norwich Castle has stood since the 12th century, and is one of the finest Norman secular buildings anywhere in Europe. It was first built as a show of strength not long after King William did his thing at Hastings, and the twiddly bits you now see today were added on a century later. Around the same time, the city found itself under attack. Not from hordes of Dingles, though, but from dissident Brits. As a result, a city wall complete with gate was constructed around the place, and the work took around 200 years to complete properly. Cowboy builders ? huh!

Norwich finally became a city in 1194, but in 1349, The Back Death paid the place a visit. Bubonic plague, we call it now, and around two fifths of the 6,000 population were carried off in a box as a result. However, it didn?t take long for the numbers to reach their pre-pestilence figure once more; by dint of bonking like rabbits they were back to square one in about forty years. It was about that time that weaving (and the subsequent manufacture of worsted) became the city?s first and foremost trade. And, as if the plague weren?t enough, in 1381, the Peasants Revolted, which resulted in a great deal of what would now be described as ?criminal damage?. A century later, it was the turn of the War Of The Roses to disrupt things, but in an indirect way, by stifling trade. Come the 16th century, it was the turn of the arsonists and just plain silly buggers to leave their mark on the place. In one particularly nasty conflagration, 718 houses were burned down, closely followed by another 360 a few months later. See ? that?s what happens when ye leaveth ye gruel a-cooking on ye olde brazier while ye make merrie with ye olde manne in ye bedroom upstairs!

The 16th century also saw the arrival of what would now be termed ?economic migrants? from the Netherlands, to give the worsted industry (which was in a bit of a mess) a kick up the backside. So much of a one, they taught the locals totally new methods of weaving, and by the end of the century, the population, now standing at 16,000, included around 6,000 immigrants (plus French and Belgian latecomers) as well. By the 1600?s, Norwich cloth was being exported everywhere, despite the twin problems of the Civil War, and yet another bout of the old bubonic plague, and come 1670, it was the largest provincial town in England.

Come the 1700?s, the roads improved a great deal, which made both passenger and goods transport much easier. This brought the posh folk from the country into the place to buy things, consumer goods, mostly. Some things never change. At the same time, the leather industry began to expand, as did brewing: something in the water, as I understand it. Ooer! Such prosperity led to the opening of the first bank, which was, believe it or not, a forerunner of the present-day Barclays. Oh, and what was to become Norwich Union started around the same time, as well.

By 1871, Norwich bulged at the seams, a population of 80,368 being the prime cause of the problem. This led to expansion outside the city walls for the first time ever. Unfortunately, the public utilities had not kept pace with the ballooning population, so diseases like cholera were rife in the town. The Victorian age also brought the railways, along with three main stations, but of these, only one remains today. With a certain amount of decline in the worsted industry, the place diversified, and within a short time: soap-making, mustard manufacture (a la Colmans!), agricultural machinery, plus, of course, the usual livestock and corn markets.

The 20th century saw the place grow from 121,490 in 1911, to around 180,000 in 1981. Slum clearance after the First World War saw a temporary housing shortage, but this was solved by further expansion out of town. During the Second World War, the Luftwaffe paid Norwich a visit no less than 40 times; in one particularly nasty act of spitefulness, historic buildings were specifically targeted by Goering?s mob. Come the end of hostilities, over 30,000 houses were damaged, and 100 factories destroyed, not to mention loads of mediaeval churches.

In 1963, rebuilding work saw the completion of the University of East Anglia, weird architecture and all, also the new city library. Additionally, several streets were pedestrianised in the city centre, and a partial one-way system, plus an inner ring road opened for business as well.

Famous Norwich folkies? Er, Bernard Matthews, of turkey fame, is looking plucking good value for top-spot in my guide. Now here?s a bit of useless information to send you on your merry way towards tomorrow night?s game: In July 2000, a group of Norfolk villagers went online to protest at the smells from a Bernard Matthews turkey farm. The Briston Action Group Against Turkey Smells (Bagats for short) said the poultry stench was so bad at the farm in Briston, near Holt, that they couldn't even bear to open their windows on a sunny day. S?funny, that, I get precisely the same feeling when passing through Wolverhampton! And, of course, there?s the sainted Delia Smith, who has only to whisper an endorsement of some cookery aid, implement, or whatever, to leave kitchen shops throughout the land looking as though they?ve been stripped bare by a particularly predatory species of locust. She?s also a Norwich director, which means there?s no less than four restaurants at Carrow Road, three were there before the new stand was built, and the new structure makes up the four. I just hope the stuff served to the hoi-polloi is equally as edible as the cordon bleu variety. Talk-show host Tricia Goddard is also from those there parts.

I could say something about Lord Nelson, who was of the area, I suppose, but as he was born quite some way away from the city, I can?t really count him. Sorry. Looking more recently into the past, though, Edith Cavell was born nearby. Who was she? Those of my age will know, but for the benefit of those that don?t, she was a nurse by trade, who worked in occupied Belgium during the First World War. Unfortunately, when she wasn?t soothing fevered brows, she had another sideline ? that of helping British prisoners of war to escape. Caught ?bang to rights? as they would say today, she was sentenced to death, and shot, aged 49, in 1915. She was buried in Brussels, but in 1919, her body was brought back to Norwich, and re-interred near to the cathedral. As she said, just before sentence was carried out, ?Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone. ? Remarkable sentiments from someone about to meet their doom. For those of a literary bent, there?s always Anna Sewell (1820-1878). Ever read the novel ?Black Beauty? as a child? Well, she was the lady wot writ it, not specifically as a children?s piece, but to draw attention to the appalling way in which horses were being treated in this country at the time. And I?ve no idea at all whether her work mentions either Mr. Megson or Mr. Horsfield!

And finally?. One. Never let it be said I don?t give you exclusives! I was quite amused to see, in tonight?s Express And Star, that they featured Jeff Astle?s grandchildren, Matthew and Taylor, who will both be club mascots versus Coventry on Saturday. Amused, because I featured the story about a fortnight ago, when Laraine herself told me!

Two. And yet another ?result ? for this diary piece! Remember my tale of woe concerning those Baggies deliberately short-changed on Saturday? Well, today, I received a mail from a very interested party indeed, and wanting to know more about the circumstances, plus a detailed description of the person responsible. Having obtained these from the people concerned, I?ve now left the matter in the hands of what I shall describe as a ?competent authority?. I await further developments with interest.

 - Glynis Wright

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