Hope Springs Eternal

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never Is, but always To be blest:

The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

 

- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

I attempted to write this blog on two separate occasions earlier this week but found the whole experience too depressing to complete. Easter Sunday’s powder puff performance at Arsenal seemed to end any chance City’s title resurrection and left me resigned to misery and bereft of even the faintest glimmer of hope. To be finished would be a relief.

But just when you think you know where you are with City they go and trifle with your affections all over again.

Wednesday’s 4-0 thumping of West Brom coupled with United’s shock defeat at Wigan leaves Mancini’s men five points behind with five games remaining and there’s a possibility it could be an interesting end to the season after all.

And that’s all I’m asking for really, a morsel of hope, something to live on until May. On Wednesday I walked into the Etihad a hunched, broken man and walked out prouder than an X Factor contestant’s dead grandma.

Of course, I’m well aware that this is merely the first step on the road to salvation and I’m emotionally prepared for City to fuck it all up again when they face Norwich away on Saturday. I always find it’s best to try and live in the moment when it comes to this club. If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those lying bastards just the same, then you will be a fan, my son.

The West Brom game was heart warming for more reasons than the minor refurbishments to the league table at the close of play though. The Carlos Tevez furore appears to have finally died a death and I won’t mourn it. It was pleasing to see him start and he looked in relatively good shape, played well and fully deserved his first goal of the season. It’s almost always pointless to speculate, but it does make you wonder whether things might’ve gone differently this year had he not been acting like a waste man clown in Argentina for most of it.

The Blues’ cause was also aided by the return to form of both Sergio Aguero and David Silva and it’s wonderful to have them both back. The former has had a brilliant debut season in England and added another couple of goals to his tally on Wednesday, taking him to 19 in the league. I feel an overwhelming sense of shame when I recall myself worrying whether or not he’d settle in his first season and I literally salivate when I imagine what he’ll be like next year. He does have a slight tendency to go missing on occasion though and was unavailable thanks to a mysterious injury (don’t be fooled by the boy next door, that had sex game gone wrong written all over it) at a crucial stage of the season but if he plays well and keeps scoring until the end I’m willing to let it slide. I can’t stay mad at you, Sergio.

David Silva’s recent portrayal of the invisible man became so believable that I didn’t even notice he wasn’t playing until mid-way through the second half of the Arsenal game. It has been mystifying and upsetting to watch Dave’s post-Christmas decline and I really hope his performance and goal on Wednesday is the beginning of a majestic end to the season. Also worthy of a mention is the unsung hero of both the game and the season, Mr. Gary Barry. The man is class and I’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise.

The obvious question now is can City carry this performance into Saturday’s game and the four games thereafter? I’m trying hard not to hope for anything but I can’t help but feel we could be back in with a shout if we don’t panic and keep picking up points. I'm cautiously optimistic at best. To paraphrase Half Man Half Biscuit, I’m well aware that the light at the end of the tunnel is so often the light of an oncoming train when City are involved.

I didn’t really expect the manager to share my scepticism though, and my initial reaction to Bobby Mancini’s post-match comments was amusement. I assumed he was just having a bit of Kenny Dalglish style “fun” with the media (only with less alcohol and more dignity) but the more I think about it the more I wonder if it could’ve been the last utterance of a dead man walking. His seemingly defeatist, verbal waving of the white flag sounded more like someone who has already started packing their bags and I worry he’s already been told his time’s up at the end of the season. I’m probably reading too much into it though, and I sincerely hope he’s given at least another crack at it next year. A loud, appreciative rendition of his song following the third goal on Wednesday suggests I’m not alone.

Wednesday night seemed like such a pointless waste of time and I was amazed anyone had bothered to turn up before kick off. It turned out to be a nice end to a depressing few weeks, however, and hopefully the beginning of one final, breathless rush for glory.

As the news of Shaun Maloney’s goal for Wigan spread around the stadium the other night, the City faithful belted out some new lyrics to a popular tune. “We’re Man City, we’ll fight 'til the end”.

We can but hope.