Nuwtfly

Feels like we can finally move on from all that trauma of the points deduction, the finances, the ruin 
Back up and back to normal! 🐏 

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

I’ve been thinking a lot about that this week.  If you think about the last 4 years since COVID started it’s been an emotional rollercoaster as a Rams fan.  We seemed to lurch from one disaster to another - FFP charges, fake sheiks, tik-tok takeover failure, transfer embargo’s, forced to play kids in the cup, staying up on the last day, administration, points deductions, dodgy Yanks, relegation, 5 players, 1 week from disappearing and probably more.
It feels like this is end of the first chapter of the David Clowes era.

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

I’d question if any Derby fan is actually human if they didn’t get emotional at least once yesterday. 
We nearly lost it all. Everyone has their ritual, whether it’s going with lifelong friends and getting on the beers, travelling from afar to visit home, seeing family they may otherwise rarely see… would be all gone  
There were kids that pitch who were probably too young to remember the Villa play off loss, let alone the QPR one, they wouldn’t have seen a single moment of success watching us. I’m 33 and don’t remember promotion in the 90s, all I have is 07. Suppose we could support Man City? Nah, never, that’s not football. That’s not belonging. That’s not family.  
There’s a lot of pain in the recent past, and yesterday was a stark reminder of what may never have been again. 

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏

Not sure if I am alone in this today but I feel an overwhelming sense of closure after yesterday’s achievement. What a relief to be back in the Championship. But it’s more than that.
It feels like all the hurt over the last couple of years: the administration, the points deductions, the financial turmoil, the humiliation, the relegation; it feels like we can finally turn the page on that sordid chapter of our history. Like we can move on. 
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, but it feels even more personal for me than that, too. In the summer of our relegation, I lost my grandmother to cancer. She was the major connection to Derby for me. My whole ritual of going to the matches involved staying with her for the weekend. For some reason Derby County, the city of Derby, the supporters bus that would pick my Grandad and I up from outside The Gate in Swanwick, the cone of chips before the game, all just seemed to have disappeared.
I know it sounds strange but I feel like I lost my connection to the club in so many ways that summer. 
Yesterday, watching everyone celebrating and the tears and David Clowes and Ed Dawe’s’ tears, just felt like closure. The end of the trauma and the start of something new. It felt like moving on.
Thank you, Mr Clowes, for all of that 🐏