Wrexham are a very similar club to us.
So I have nothing but good wishes for their couple of thousand fans who endured sixteen long, painful, humiliating seasons in this dungeon.
Same applies to their Hollywood millions. Fair play, say I. Rather they go to a traditionally minor outfit like them than, say, a Wednesday followed by far too many entitled halfwits.
But the truth is it took that metaphorical lottery win for Wrexham to win this league. It was bought and paid for by the Deadpool Duo. Hell - any side that can casually go out and sign former England players (yeah, the irony, huh) ought to be smashing it. Not because of any history, not because of a suddenly emerging fanbase and certainly not because the manager's some sorta football genius.
Money, simple as that. And we know as well as anyone what happens when the bloke signing the cheques goes ga-ga.
Theirs' isnt the only club propped up by one man's mid-life crisis, either. A quick glance over the motorway reveals another classic example. Another punching way above it's weight on that built-on-sand basis.
I'm more than happy where we are, though. Run by genuine Town folk, managed by someone with a genuine attachment to Town and a stadium filled with genuine Town fans. As opposed to ones at least in part motivated by here today, gone tomorrow media hype.
All of which means our promotion will be a Chesterfield promotion, no one else's.
Oh, and by the way. I doubt anyone on here is so pathetically sad to go to the time and trouble of joining next season's National League leaders' messageboard to tell them how much better we were...
This post has been edited by The Earl of Chesterfield: 20 February 2024 - 06:33 PM