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I work with a bloke who used to be a Bee. He went home and away for many seasons until, in the late Eighties, he heard, on very good authority, that the powers that be at Brentford would never let the team play for promotion, couldn’t afford to go up, that was just the way it was and always would be for the Bees…

He was so disheartened by this that he stopped going. After all, what was the point of spending all that time, effort, and money for nothing? He now follows Port Vale, that’s another tale…

The reason for this story being told is, that while it is impossible to know for certain the truth or otherwise behind it, the plaintively frustrated cry of “you don’t want to go up Brentford…” has oft been heard. Not necessarily said in seriousness, but at some level the feeling that we don’t want to progress has nagged away. It’s Brentford innit… They’ll fuck up after Christmas… They’ll fuck up in the playoffs… etc… etc…

Last season was the worst case of this being borne out… So fucking spectacularly “Brentford”, it could have been scripted…

In dark moments since that Doncaster day, the sound of Trotta’s shotta hitting the bar has hit me like a slap… it hurt, physically and mentally… all those years of waiting for THAT moment, that fairy tale ending… so close to fruition, then with a swing of a boot, the dream was transported into another distant galaxy, the one where hope lives.

But this season has teased us into almost beelieving we just maybe may possibly do something… try as we might to be pessimistic, we kept coming back from behind, kept beating bogie teams, kept knocking in injury time winners, continued stringing more than two passes together, and when we did slip up, we’d come back even more determined and grind out an improvement…

So to today, April 18th, Preston at home, 7 points clear and the permutations all worked out… and blow me down, it all comes together… quite astonishing…!

Where was the disastrous error that let us down? Where were the capitulations of Wolves and the Creepys which should have ruined our day? Where were the shocking refereeing decisions? Where was the nerve ridden, passionless performance that our pessimistic selves predicted?

Nowhere, that’s where…

It all happened as we never thought it would…

And all of that is the reason why I could have cried… when I saw the ref pick up the ball and scuttle off down the tunnel, I could have sat down on the terrace and bawled like a bairn…

Because now is truly the dawn of a new Brentford day.

A club that beelieves it can build something worthy of investment… fans can spend their time, effort and money again in the knowledge that win, lose or draw, Brentford DO want to go up… they actually do….

Dave Howes
@howsicus