If the first half showed us bouncing back from adversity and turning on the style when needed, the second half was a masterclass in just being good. We came out swinging, Doncaster made a change and it didn’t work. We kept swinging, they tried again, and still it didn’t work. We should have won by more than two and while I know Donny had players missing, and them staying up is commendable in their first season, paying fans might be disappointed with the output from their side.
Champions turn the screw when the screw is there for turning. Rotherham, Northampton, Blackpool, Peterborough and Plymouth all felt that. When they showed weakness, when they left gaps exposed, we got in there, probing and pressing, and we did that last night. Credit to Doncaster, I don’t think they rolled over and had their belly tickled like the Cobblers did, I just think they were miles off us. Watching Grant McCann and Cliff Byrne on at the fourth official, you could see how it mattered to them. They just aren’t at our level, and I don’t mean to be arrogant or cocky.
Ryley Towler had a goal disallowed, and watching replays back, I’m not really sure what for. There is another example of why we’re going up with a trophy to show for our efforts: Ryley Towler. Not him alone, but he underlines great recruitment. Not really a left back, he’s filled in when Adam Reach got injured and done so well. He covered at the start of the season, and he’s allowed us to move to a three in games where it is needed. Good recruitment and a good attitude, despite not starting every game, are examples of it.
Him netting (albeit disallowed) and Bradley putting two headers over the bar showed the danger from set pieces, and unlike Saturday, we did put it on Doncaster every chance we got. We elected not to as much against Stevenage, but I suspect we felt we could profit last night.
Street will be gutted not to have scored, not just from the penalty. The magic of Moylan created an opening for him which deflected back off the keeper’s legs as we threatened to run riot. He’ll be happy with his performance, and it was a huge sign of respect that when he came off, the whole stadium applauded. Quite often, I hear ex-Lincoln players booed, even Lasse Sorensen, so for Street to get a fond send-off from the home support showed a little bit of class.
Before that, another perfect demonstration of Lincoln City 25/26. It’s probably most fitting that a long throw led to the second goal, and while I do want to wax lyrical about it, there is a moment here I found a little frustrating. As the ball is thrown in, Bradley is hauled to the ground in a similar manner (in my eyes) as Towler did for his disallowed goal. Attacker on defender? Foul. Defender on attacker? Crack on. I thought Seb Stockbridge had a decent game to be fair to him, but that just underlines how officials need to get a grip on pushing and pulling in the area.
Still, the distraction at the front post allowed Street to flick the ball on, and up popped Ben House with a 7.6 diving header on the Houchen scale to seal the deal. Envelope stuck down, title in the post. Done and dusted.
The romantic in me loves the fact Ben got the goals, the longest-serving player on the pitch. You wouldn’t say all this started with him, but he is a great example of what we’ve done right recently – spotted talent, brought him in, moulded and shaped his development and reaped rewards. He made his debut under Michael Appleton, survived the Kennedy era and has battled back from a couple of tough injuries. Street would have been fitting for his Doncaster exploits, so for him to assist the oldest head (in terms of Imps tenure) just felt so right.
Street still had the chances to get his goal. Wonderful play by Hackett and Bayliss set him up to hit the inside of the post, and at that point, I do wonder if maybe more than 3,000 people secretly hoped that he’d have his moment. It came back out and he had another bite of the cherry, testing the side netting, rather than working the keeper. He eventually came off to that ovation, one of probably six on the night who could have won Man of the Match.
After that we managed the game. Doncaster never got close and we knew. We’ve all known for weeks we’re going to win the title, here at the SW we’ve had a badge design ready to go, but when that moment hit, when Seb Stockbridge blew the whistle, it came like a breeze block from a motorway overpass. We could see it coming, but when it hit, it hit. I’m almost happy it was Seb, we’ve been through so much together (he doesn’t know that), a real referee redemption arc, from Meadow Lane to Glory Avenue.
A word on Doncaster, they showed some real class. Not just the applause for Street, but I noticed their keeper applauding our fans. Little things like that make a difference and change how you view a club. One or two of their media team shook my hand, one even hunted out a programme for me as I’d contributed. Respect for that, I’m sure not every club would be the same, although I am discovering more than you’d expect to be friendly and accommodating.
What more do you say about the night? As they appealed for supporters to stay in the stands, which they did, it felt a little weird. It felt emotional, like we were witnessing history, but with no trophy, it also felt like we were stuffing the cork back in the bottle, hoping to get the fizz back out on Saturday. That’s the celebration, that’s the day to shout from the rooftops (again), but I wanted to last night.
I’ll finish this without more analysis. I could praise players, staff, everything, but we know what we are now, and we showed so many of those faces last night. One face some of you won’t have seen (unless you go on my social media) is Chris Ashton. I’m sure everyone knows Chris, he’s done the buses for years, more years than I’ve been alive. When the club had a disconnect with supporters in the early 90s, Chris came to present trophies for kids teams. My first game I heard Chris reading out the teams, Alan Long style. He is Lincoln City, his parents were Lincoln City. As we watched the celebrations, I noted him looking at the supporters, a weird mix of childlike awe and parental pride. He’s the elder statesman of all things Lincoln City, and there was just this look in his eye that I couldn’t place that warmed my heart.
Obviously, I felt a little sadness. My first thought was of my Dad, and I’ve left this to the end because it isn’t mentioned for clicks, or likes, or ‘aaw, poor Gary’ moments, and only the hardcore Imps will likely get this far. The title win wasn’t for him; it was for all of us, you, me, anyone still here, anyone who has passed away, obviously. But for me, it was momentarily challenging as well as pure elation. In the chants of Champions, I swear I could hear his voice, and I almost sent him a WhatsApp message, as I did at Reading. I haven’t really processed the loss yet, I don’t feel like he’s gone, and yet I feel his absence all the time. Moments like that, when the whistle goes, make me feel closer to him, and oddly further away at the same time.
He would have loved it, and I know he would have insisted I enjoy it too. Over the next few days, I’m going to enjoy it.
I hope you do too.
Up the Championship, Title-Winning Imps
