One afternoon


By Jason McKeown

90 minutes.

Or maybe 120.

And there’s also the possibility of penalties.

Either way it’s one afternoon.


One afternoon between another year in League Two or a move up to League One.

To a promotion party.

Or the devastation of a second Wembley defeat.

No half measures, no in-betweens.

It’s all on the line.


We know the history, you can still see the bruises.

Season upon season of feeling underwhelmed.

Of set backs, of failures.

Of unhappy endings.

This time, please let it be different.


We can trust in this group of players.

They get it.

They get what it means to us.

They get what it means to themselves.

An outstanding group of individuals that blend together so well.

Win and we go forward together.

Lose and some may go their separate way.

League Two players, but together they can become League One.


One afternoon to change everything.

For them.

For us.


May is a month of winners.

We see it every year.

Not, sadly, with our own eyes.

But through the lens of others.

Chelsea, Wigan, Cardiff, Hull City, Gillingham, Mansfield.

Watch their players dance about on your TV screen, read about their fans going crazy in the paper.

Always someone else’s party, never ours.


When the Sky cameras zoom in on tomorrow’s winners, let it be us.

Let it be Gary Jones and Ricky Ravenhill jointly holding the trophy up.

Let it be our smiling faces that are beamed into pubs and homes all over the country.

Let it be Phil Parkinson punching the air.

Let it be.


May is also a month of losers.

For every team who triumphs, another is slumped on the floor.

Supporters and players devastated, tears.

Climb up those steps to collect a loser’s medal.

Losers. Losers.

Don’t let it be us.



Parkinson will have the players fully prepared tomorrow.

Giving it everything they have is a minimum.

What is the role of us supporters?

The same.

Giving it everything that we have is a minimum.


From the first minute to the last, no need for silence.

No need for muttering.

No need for moaning.

Booers, stay home.

We need to sing, and we don’t need to stop.

From the first whistle to the final kick, a wall of noise.

We’ve paid to be here, but we’re part of the event too.

The noise we make, it must be deafening and relentless.

Anything else is a half measure.


City till I die, that’s a given.

Whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll be cheering them next season.

But to come this close…well, we can’t let this opportunity slip us by.

That history of underachievement tells us it won’t be so easy to earn this chance again.


One afternoon.

90 minutes.

And maybe extra time.

And maybe penalties.

Whatever it takes.


One afternoon away, from Bradford City’s world changing.

Categories: Previews, The 2012/13 play offs, Wembley 2013

1 reply

  1. I like this Jason. A lot. Could be a lyric.

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