Affers, the person who originally set up Joys and Sorrows has written an open letter!

Dear Blues,

I won’t forgive you this time. Sorry to be blunt about it but we’ve been together a while now and whilst it seems that you continue to take me for all I’m worth, I’m not sure that I’m getting the same in return. Throughout the years, I have steadfastly supported you through thick and thin and helped you grow despite many public tongue-lashings and performances that would embarrass the toughest of men. To be honest, Blues, I feel as though this isn’t an equal partnership. And although, very occasionally you’ll show me signs of affection and I’ll fall in love with you again, I feel it all goes too sour too quickly and to be honest, you stop trying. I’ve thought about leaving before, Blues but where would I go? 20 years is long enough, though. This is it. If it happens again, it’ll be the last thing you ever see of me.

I know that I probably have no right to demand such things of you, Blues. Things like mutual respect, equality in financial matters and a sense of shared responsibility over happiness and direction of our relationship but honestly, from time to time, it wouldn’t hurt for you to show me that you love me too. I could even take the lack of the above if, just occasionally, you did something a bit… special to keep things between us alive. Win a game by more than one goal, perhaps. Or play two strikers up front. That’s just in the short term. In the longer term, maybe we could spice things up by winning a trophy or two or securing our Premiership status early two seasons in a row. Maybe you could try not embarrassing me by taking me into shops and offering a certain amount of money for a product and then laughing sheepishly and saying that you don’t really want it because it’s too expensive as the retail assistant is swiping my credit card through the swipey machine thing.

I’m just saying, Blues…

This may come at a funny time. After all, I know you have that huge thing tomorrow night. It’s a big night for me too you know. The sad thing is that I’m excited. I know I shouldn’t be. We’ve been here before. We’ve been here many times and as I sit here and think that maybe tomorrow will be different, I can’t help but think about the times you’ve let me down before. It all started out so well. A cold December night in 1991 was my first real experience with you – we beat Fulham 3-1 and I stood on the Kop. I should’ve known what was to come because I thought I saw a badge on the floor and went to pick it up only to find out that it was a fag end. It burnt my finger. I never told anyone because well, I learnt from a young age that in relationships like ours, you have to just accept a certain amount of pain. I didn’t get a badge and even when I did, it was nicked off my bag at school.

Since then Blues, there’s a million examples I can think of where you’ve just not held up your end of the bargain. I mean, fair enough, during the early days, you were still in recovery from your dreadful period during the 80′s. Not to say that you were ever dreadful, Blues, but you know, it’s fair to say that you’d let yourself go a little bit and were in a recovery mode of sorts. It’s okay, we don’t need to dwell on it but I’m just saying that I can understand why you were so damaged. Those people who supported you through those times deserve tomorrow night far more than I but what can I say? I’ve always been a bit selfish. If not for me, if not for you, do it for them. I’m not sure how many more chances they will give you either, Blues.

Speaking of, I was thinking back the other night about the disappointments that we’ve shared. There have been big ones, like the penalty shoot out against Liverpool at Cardiff although I fully accept your defence on that one that the bloke in black was against you. The humiliation against Villa a few years ago… it was only a friendly but you capitulated 6-0. You didn’t think of a 14 year old me having to go to school the next day. One of only about 8 Blues fans in a school of 1,000. No, of course you didn’t. Barnsley in the playoffs (I can still picture Thomas Myhre keep looking into the corner where he conceded the first goal) and Preston NE (where I still always laugh at TF and the fact that he spelt Marcelo’s name wrong) not to mention the heartbreak of Watford and poor Chrissy Holland. The big ones, the relegations, the derby day defeats. Each one leaves an identifiable scar that will only be erased with the sight of a gleaming trophy in the cabinet.

Although with that being said, there are certain things that I’ll never forgive you for. The Tesco bag kit, losing to York City in 1995, the plate of sandwiches that led to TF resigning which caused me untold grief at college, not taking one of our chances against West Bromwich Albion in 1997 that led to that annoying chant for the next six months, signing Michel, scoring in the first minute and the last minute against Leyton Orient in 1994 meaning that the young kid behind me missed both goals at his first ever game due to his dad arriving five minutes late and leaving five minutes early… the list goes on.

But by far the worst thing you ever did happened in April 1999. I bought the stripey black and white away shirt that I thought was super cool (my first ever away shirt purchase) and I had the name and number of my favourite player on the back. #11, Peter Ndlovu. We both know I’m a bit dense, Blues, and instead of having ‘Ndlovu’ on the back, I decided to save some cash and have ‘God’ on the back instead. This was great. People liked it and thought I was funny. Or thought I was ‘a bit of a character’. Anyway, Blues, what you did a week after purchasing said shirt was to change the line up and give Lee Bradbury the number 11 shirt. Yeah. So two weeks after purchasing this shirt, I could no longer wear it due to the fact that perhaps my least favourite player ever to play for Blues at that point was now represented as a God between my shoulder blades. In the end, I sent the shirt to a friend in Australia. Which came back to haunt me because we ended up living together several years later and she returned the shirt to me. I hate you for that, Blues.

And so tomorrow, despite all of these and more that I could mention – although I won’t because for some reason, you get angry and shout at me in public when I’m negative – I’m actually quite upbeat and positive. You see, I’m an optimist and I know what I said at the beginning of my letter but the truth is that all of these things that I have mentioned make us what we are. The disappointment, the disillusionment, the lack of any tangible success despite me giving my all… I sort of like it. It makes us solid and it creates the type of relationship that isn’t often seen anywhere else.

I’d hate to lose that, Blues. And I don’t think I could leave you if I tried. I suppose this started out as a statement of intent of just what will happen if you dare kick me THAT hard in the nads again. But I’ve already contemplated it happening and my reaction was to see what was coming up beyond that, to see when perhaps you could try again to please me. I know you’re not perfect but I must confess that I understand that you try. You just get it wrong sometimes and it probably hurts you as much as it hurts me. What we need is to find a balance where we’re both happy and as such, I get that you’ll try tomorrow night.

I’ll confess, Blues. You’ve given me nights of nights before. They tend to get lost in all the nonsense that I get caught up in. On reflection, it’s not all you and sometimes I’m to blame too. But tomorrow, can we just be friends? You do what you do – or what you don’t normally do – and I’ll support you to the hilt and tell everyone in the world that I’m proud to be associated to you. Not that I’d ever be embarrassed to be with you, Blues.

We can do it. Tomorrow night, it is possible. We’re 1 down against a side that are suspect and if St Andrews gets to the place that we all know it can get to, there is no reason why we can’t get one early and go on to a storming performance. Forget the financials, forget the formations, forget the team selections, the bad signings, the sniping in the press, who you had a fight with on your favourite BCFC messageboard. Tomorrow night is bigger than that and this time tomorrow, we may just be one step closer to winning our first major trophy in nearly half a century.

If you’re there, please sing loud. If you’re can’t be (like me), tune in, stand up, pretend like you’re there. Everything helps on nights like tomorrow and you just never know where that spark of inspiration, luck or skill might come from.

No matter what happens tomorrow, Blues. I’ll forgive you. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. You know that. But tomorrow night, please make it so that I won’t ever want to.

Yours in sincere love,

Aff

You can follow Aff on Twitter at @affbcfc