The Time Is Upon Us

In a blink of an eye, a week has almost passed.

It is almost a week since we rose to the occasion and defeated Cheltenham, moving above Oxford in the table. It is more than six days since we pushed ourselves back into sixth, and took the advantage for tomorrow’s (almost) noon showdown. Four teams. Two places.

Discussing the play-offs seemed pointless in January and ambitious in February. In March, it felt real, and at times during April, it felt like a dream we almost grasped. Here we are, 45 games into a strange, exciting season, and we’re still in with a shout.

All eyes will be on other games, but they don’t really matter at first. All that matters is us. Beat Portsmouth, and next Saturday we’ll line up against either Bolton or Peterborough in the play-off semi-finals for a place in the Championship. Better Oxford and Blackpool’s results, and we’ll be on the field next Saturday. If they beat our results, we’ll be doing whatever it is we do during the off-season.

I don’t know what will happen; I can’t predict what Skubala’s Imps are going to do. Since the beginning of January, they’ve thrilled us; they’ve fought for every point and given us enough excitement for an entire season. Tomorrow, we face the undisputed best team in the division, and yet there are a huge number of people who believe we’re going into the top six at the end of the game.

There’s a lot of people who think our momentum is going to carry us all the way to the Championship. One game at a time.

Whatever happens tomorrow, I feel the football club has had a shot in the arm. The hard work off the field has never stopped, but during one season where relegation haunted us, and another where 11th flattered us, there was little excitement. It was functional, but in the stands, plenty of bickering. Plenty of disagreement. Plenty of fracturing.

Now? It feels like a club rebound, tied back together. They are not stuck with sticky tape and plaster, loan players masking cracks in the squad, and goals from the halfway line making up for a lack of true attacking intent. Instead, we’re a side bound tightly, a team of players we own (more or less), a squad built for now and for the future. We feel like a squad with a head coach that’s going places, just as we did in 2016/17.

Most of all, I feel the belief of almost everyone I talk to. Not a belief that we’ll make the top six, but a belief that we’re in the top ten to stay, if promotion isn’t on the cards this season. We’re in a position not elevated by a late run when nothing is on the table, not powered entirely by players who are going back to their clubs, but one we’ve earned when we’ve needed to. We haven’t got where we are playing without pressure, we’ve risen to the occasion in big games, we’ve staggered through crippling injuries and here we are, 90 minutes from an improbable play-off place, only the very best of the best standing in our way. There’s a belief that this is a foundation to build upon, and I feel it from people who I’ve disagreed with vehemently over the past three seasons.

Whatever happens, this run hasn’t been a fluke. It hasn’t been a perfect storm of alignment, like in 2020/21 when wage caps and a lack of crowd helped (not to play that achievement down, by the way). This is different. We’ve been challenged and tested all the way through the season. The board have been challenged finding new investment, and come through. Liam, Jez and the day-to-day management have been tasked with finding the right blend in January, and helping appoint the right men in October and January. Michael and the coaching staff have been tasked with patching up a side, getting the best out of players and finding ways to win. All have passed.

Most of all, the boys in red and white have been asked to put their bodies on the line, to fight for the shirt and sometimes to step out of their natural position and be something new. Some have had a bumpy season, others are consistent and outstanding, but we arrived in the final 90 minutes of the regular campaign absolutely together. There’s not a single player you can say has lt the team down over the last 19 matches. There’s not one who hasn’t shrugged off adversity, be it injury, loss of form or red cards. It’s a team of fighters, a team that has shown more character and application when it matters than any group collectively since the days of the League Two title.

That’s why I won’t be gutted if we don’t get promoted tomorrow. Of course, I will be gutted initially, I’ll be hurt if it doesn’t happen because it is so close, sixth place is there to touch, but 24 hours will pass, maybe a week, and it’ll slide into irrelevance. Tomorrow is the occasion. Tomorrow is the culmination of a battle we looked like losing four months ago. Tomorrow is a free hit, a bonus that we’ve worked hard to get.

The war, the ongoing fight for a place in England’s second tier for the first time in 60 years, goes on. Whatever happens tomorrow, I genuinely feel we’re closer to it than we’ve ever been, with a football club that is almost working in perfect harmony.

So, with that in mind, I urge you not to get too nervous tomorrow but to try and enjoy it. Tomorrow’s game, by rights, should mean nothing. We shouldn’t be where we are; we’ve put in a huge effort to get here that has defied the odds and twisted everyone’s beleif systems around (except Cornell’s, obviously). Whatever happens, win, lose, or draw, simply by getting to this stage, Lincoln City has succeeded.

Who knows? Maybe there’s a little more to come this season or a lot more to come next season. Whatever happens, I’m just going to enjoy it, because I can feel the fizz around my football club. I can feel the trust and belief. I can feel something special is happening. The only question is how long it’s going to take before it goes to the next level.

Up the Imps.