Why do bad things happen to good people?

This piece was published in OTBC, the Norwich City matchday programme, for the Premier League game against Leicester City on 28 February 2020. Subscribe to OTBC here.

Bennett, co-host of NBC football podcast Men in Blazers, summed up Norwich’s current position nicely when he tweeted after our loss to Liverpool: “Admire so much about Norwich City. Passionate loyalty of their fans. Aspirational style of play. Investment in Youth Development paying off. Eternal optimism in face of bottom of the table doom, which begets old philosophical question: Why do bad things happen to good people?”

It’s a succinct expression of the particular agony of this season: the sense that everything about our team feels so right — except our current position in the league table. It also articulated one of my struggles, as a fan: the recognition that the frustration we feel isn’t just for us — it’s also for the players, these good people, that we’ve come to love, albeit with a parental patience, a tolerance of their faults and foibles. To a man, they have won us over — some easily, favourites from the beginning; others took a little longer to earn hero status.

This season has been a lesson in quick judgements: namely, that we shouldn’t make them. The standout performers have been those that took a while to convince: Todd Cantwell, who stuttered when handed a chance last year, worked hard over the summer and came back a Premier League footballer.

Tim Krul, who had a shaky start to life at Norwich but emerged as one of last season’s stalwarts, has somehow reached new heights, earning him a recall to the Dutch national side.

And what about Alex Tettey? Few would have predicted that the veteran would be one of this season’s constants, but he’s become a lynchpin in the centre of the park — and, despite turning 34 soon, he’s as fresh and vital a presence as ever.

Then there’s Sam “Cometh the moment (Manchester City at home), cometh the man” Byram, brought in over the summer. At £750,000, he was good value then — his contribution looks priceless now, even though injury has ended his season prematurely.

But the greatest redemption arc is that of club captain Grant Hanley, who was forced to watch most of last season’s triumphs from the sidelines. His start at Anfield on the opening day of the Premier League season was his first in almost a year, and we all know how that went. But since his return to full fitness, he’s been one of our best players — certainly our best centre-back.

His tale is a reminder that, even as they struggle, we shouldn’t take this group of players for granted; we’ll miss them when they’re gone. And that’s the other great sorrow of this season — that this team is unlikely to stay together for long. The Premier League has given our talents — especially the young guns — a bigger stage, and the football that has wooed us all is charming the wider world now, too.

At the end of this season, whichever league we’re in, we know that some players will leave us — not because we will be desperate to sell, but because other clubs will be hellbent on buying. It is always bittersweet: there is a territorial pride in seeing one of our own go on to greater things, but also resentment that they have to go at all.

Of course, we’ve waved off many a promising player before. Today we welcome back one of the best: James Maddison, who gave more than just his talent to this club — now we know he all but saved it. When you are not a club at the very top of the pecking order, this is what happens: you buy small, and sell big. It is a sensible formula for success, but knowing that there are pragmatic reasons behind it doesn’t make it any less frustrating when one of our favourites departs.

All of which is to say: right now — even as the possibility of relegation throws long shadows over Carrow Road — we are lucky. Generally, this is a team with an excess of courage and effort. Our position in the table hurts not just because we want more for this side, for our own selfish reasons, but because we feel they deserve it — and because failure could hasten the end of this Norwich team as we know it.

But it is not over yet. If you want a reason to be cheerful, here’s one: experience breeds wisdom. Yes, we’ve been here before, but in much worse shape. This time there is no need for wailing, or gnashing of teeth. While all around us lose their heads, let’s do our best to keep ours — it may yet be our secret weapon.