It is the very nature of the football supporter beast to swing wildly from one emotional state to another.
And, you're quite right, it is the very nature of the modern (new) media beast to encourage such dramatic mood swings.
Why say 'hurt' when you can say 'shattered'? Why write 'improved' when you can write 'rocketed'?
So on the back of Saturday's
4-0 defeat at Leicester City, the temptation is for all concerned to swing wildly in the opposite direction; to turn the gaze straight down, as opposed to steadfastly up; to insist that all is far from well within the State of Colney as opposed to suggesting that the court of King Glenn was a place of magical enchantment.
As ever, the truth will lie somewhere in between; more – to my mind – towards the enchantment end of the scale than Saturday's scoreline will suggest.
That said, there is one little danger popping its head over the horizon on the back of this weekend's events – a sense of anti-climax, if, as now is probably expected, the Canaries fall a couple of games short of the top six.
Suddenly, there will be a hint of disappointment in the air; a sense of under-achievement, that having put themselves four points off the play-off pack Norwich 'only' finished, say, tenth.
For what it's worth, I still suspect that there is still many a twist and turn to come; that back-to-back home wins over Barnsley and
Blackpool will still see Norwich hitting that two-point-per-game mark – something that the 2-1 win at Cardiff kept in business.
But, even if Norwich's season now tends towards petering out, there is one important point to cling to. At the time of Plymouth (A), they were gone.
Physically frail and mentally bankrupt, that team, that day, was going nowhere but League One next season.
And that's going to be the danger; that in the 'disappointment' of slipping just out of the final shake-up people lose sight of just what Roeder and Co have achieved in the last three months; that in the April-May swing towards anti-climax and an upper mid-table finish, supporters forget from whence the Canaries have come. For that would be rough justice on the new City boss and his two first lieutenants, Lee Clark and Paul Stephenson.
To be all but out of the relegation running by the middle of February when you were dead and buried at the end of October is a remarkable managerial feat; one that is straight out of the top drawer.
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