Being a Nottingham Forest fan in the 21st Century
Being a football fan is simple, yet complex. At times, it feels desperate, sometimes full of anticipation. There are short-term hopes and fears about the team's fluctuating fortunes and yet they are underpinned by a sense of eternal longing. It’s this emotional rollercoaster that forces me back to the ground in August year-in, year-out. This everlasting hope feeds and nourishes us as fans, even in the darkest of moments.
Football is an infinite game in a finite world. Our perpetual desire for success, season-after-season, is passed on like a baton from one generation to the next. The changing, cyclical nature of football means nobody is ever the undisputed, outright winner. It’s the constant shifting of results and trophies and the promise of better things which keeps our love for the game alive.
However, as a 20-year-old Forest fan with over 10 years of supporting the club my family worships, I have been forced to question this cyclical nature of football.
Born in 2000, the stats make grim reading for me and my generation of Forest fans. Relegated in 1999, Forest have never returned to the promised land of the Premier League. Looking on from the outside, it feels like paradise lost.
We are also part of the unlucky eight - the current group of eight teams within the 92 EFL teams never to have played at the new Wembley. Add to this, four painful defeats in the play-offs since 2000. So near, yet so far. Along with multiple, final-day collapses including last season’s catastrophic 4-1 loss to Stoke City, which saw Forest squander their Championship play-off spot after surrendering a three-point lead and five-goal difference, characterising Forest’s heart-breaking recent history.
Football is an infinite game in a finite world. Our perpetual desire for success, season-after-season, is passed on like a baton from one generation to the next. The changing, cyclical nature of football means nobody is ever the undisputed, outright winner. It’s the constant shifting of results and trophies and the promise of better things which keeps our love for the game alive.
However, as a 20-year-old Forest fan with over 10 years of supporting the club my family worships, I have been forced to question this cyclical nature of football.
Born in 2000, the stats make grim reading for me and my generation of Forest fans. Relegated in 1999, Forest have never returned to the promised land of the Premier League. Looking on from the outside, it feels like paradise lost.
We are also part of the unlucky eight - the current group of eight teams within the 92 EFL teams never to have played at the new Wembley. Add to this, four painful defeats in the play-offs since 2000. So near, yet so far. Along with multiple, final-day collapses including last season’s catastrophic 4-1 loss to Stoke City, which saw Forest squander their Championship play-off spot after surrendering a three-point lead and five-goal difference, characterising Forest’s heart-breaking recent history.
Despite this, my support and hope remain intact. Why is this? My Dad constantly reminds me of the glory days of the late 1970s and early 80s when Brian Clough’s team lifted two consecutive European Cups. The two stars on Forest's shirt are a constant reminder of how things used to be. He tells me to acknowledge this past and remind me that ‘the sleeping giant’ of Nottingham Forest will wake up one of these days. ‘Just imagine the day we finally go up...imagine the release’ he tells me... And so, I keep imagining.
It has been tough supporting Forest in lockdown, a difficult and traumatic period for everyone in a crisis much bigger than football. Yet, something as insignificant as football can mean so much. Each passing match is a tough watch as Forest make slow progress trudging through the muddy waters near the bottom of the Championship table. As we all know, watching football on TV is nothing like the match day experience, and I often think of the day that my Dad and I can walk along the banks of the Trent once more.
Was it only a year ago we saw Sammy Ameobi and Tyler Walker score against Leeds to go third in the table? That raucous, reverberating wall of noise and celebration in a stadium filled with 30,000 people seems like a lifetime ago. Yet, even if this game reminds me of false hope, it also encapsulates everything that I love about Forest. Even if sustained success has been in short supply, it is these memories and isolated occasions that have kept the fire burning. There are a few other examples that spring to mind.
A mid-table Forest team managed by academy manager Gary Brazil defeating the mighty Arsenal 4-2 in the FA Cup under the lights. Defeating Derby 1-0 in my first East Midlands Derby on my birthday. Witnessing Forest take down Leeds 4-2 in a New Year’s Day thriller, alongside my Dad and my brother. We rarely go to matches all together nowadays. These memories have made me feel part of the Forest family making my bond with the club unbreakable, even in the darkest of moments.
It has been tough supporting Forest in lockdown, a difficult and traumatic period for everyone in a crisis much bigger than football. Yet, something as insignificant as football can mean so much. Each passing match is a tough watch as Forest make slow progress trudging through the muddy waters near the bottom of the Championship table. As we all know, watching football on TV is nothing like the match day experience, and I often think of the day that my Dad and I can walk along the banks of the Trent once more.
Was it only a year ago we saw Sammy Ameobi and Tyler Walker score against Leeds to go third in the table? That raucous, reverberating wall of noise and celebration in a stadium filled with 30,000 people seems like a lifetime ago. Yet, even if this game reminds me of false hope, it also encapsulates everything that I love about Forest. Even if sustained success has been in short supply, it is these memories and isolated occasions that have kept the fire burning. There are a few other examples that spring to mind.
A mid-table Forest team managed by academy manager Gary Brazil defeating the mighty Arsenal 4-2 in the FA Cup under the lights. Defeating Derby 1-0 in my first East Midlands Derby on my birthday. Witnessing Forest take down Leeds 4-2 in a New Year’s Day thriller, alongside my Dad and my brother. We rarely go to matches all together nowadays. These memories have made me feel part of the Forest family making my bond with the club unbreakable, even in the darkest of moments.
But imagine a day when we could go to the City Ground to participate in a potential promotion party celebrating the end of over 20 years of hurt. Nothing in football is guaranteed, but the law of averages tells me that any sort of success for my beloved club is well overdue. It must be, mustn't it?
What I’ve learned is that, however bad or frustrating Forest are, my love and hope that my club will return to its past glories in some capacity are never-ending. This is why we love football. Its impact on each generation remains as powerful and poignant as ever - even for my generation of Forest fans. A popular football cliché is that ‘it’s the hope that kills you’ but I can promise you it hasn’t killed this Forest fan just yet.
What I’ve learned is that, however bad or frustrating Forest are, my love and hope that my club will return to its past glories in some capacity are never-ending. This is why we love football. Its impact on each generation remains as powerful and poignant as ever - even for my generation of Forest fans. A popular football cliché is that ‘it’s the hope that kills you’ but I can promise you it hasn’t killed this Forest fan just yet.
Written by - Will Murray
Edited by - 3-At-The-Back
Edited by - 3-At-The-Back