Sent to Coventry

As I understand it, the evening I was offered my current job on the sportsdesk was the very same moment Glenn Roeder picked up a telephone call from (presumably) Neil Doncaster asking him help Norwich out of an eight point hole.

The following morning Roeder was introduced to the media at Carrow Road.

Now for me, being handed this job was very exciting. It meant in all likelihood, sooner or later, I would get to watch Norwich play while I was being paid to do it.

Following Lowestoft Town’s FA Vase fortunes from Canvey Island to Wembley via Whitley Bay was memorable, but it still felt like warming up to cover the Canaries – and that first opportunity came in City’s opener at Coventry.

I had been to Highfield Road but never the Ricoh Arena, which from the air looks like a diamond encrusted raindrop and inside seemed to resemble a supermarket – but to be honest there wasn’t much time to sample the surroundings.

With Myself, Jonathan Redhead and Chris Lakey tasked with covering the game for the Evening News, Eastern Daily Press and Pinkun, I was handed the pink pages to fill on the Saturday afternoon with a match runner, and boy do I fully appreciate the effort it takes to churn out one of those every week.

A 1,500-word match report on every kick and spit during the 90 minutes, writing down what happens, as it happens, with no replays, while simultaneously reading your copy out to someone on the end of the telephone – trying to ensure it makes sense and is factually correct, let alone reads well. It was an eye opener, that’s for sure.

There was finally a chance to catch breath about 10 minutes and one, final phone call after the final whistle and I hadn’t really had a chance to digest the actual result before I was with Jonathan downstairs waiting for the players to emerge from their dressing rooms to give us their views.

It can be quite difficult chasing players to get a few quotes after a game so I hear, but Coventry is one of the better venues to try a verbally grab a player by the arms and demand some words.

Pick of the bunch was Arturo Lupoli who, after describing the virtues of sexy football, was asked whether there was a hand in the build-up to his almost unmissable chance – none of us were actually expecting the striker to admit it was his flailing arm that controlled the ball before he headed over the bar from a few yards.

Still, maybe that mitigated the miss… if only slightly.

As well all know, since then City have already limped out of a cup competition and scrabbled a point against Blackpool on Saturday. By my money, that puts City one point up on the corresponding fixtures last season – get in.

Of course, it also means I’m expecting three points at Cardiff on Saturday.