Ipswich 1-.... I can't even bring myself to write the score.

I've had a good twelve hours to calm down. I had a night out with my friends and have slept for most of them, but today, I feel like an old, beloved pet has died. I've also just made the mistake of going on BBC Sport, so now that feeling of wanting to cry has returned. So please forgive the following blog, as I am emotionally unstable and am likely to go into a rant at some point about Grant Holt.

The only football match I have ever wanted to cry about was back in 2005. I was 13, had been having a pretty naff year at school due to bullying and going to a different school to all my friends. I remember the night of the 18th May like it was the day before yesterday. We'd fought back from 2-0 down at Upton Park to be at 2-2 on aggregate. I knew what a loss would mean, our key players would leave because they wanted, and deserved, Premiership football. We'd finished third, there was an optimism around Portman Road, finally, finally after relegation in 2002 we would be heading back to the "Promised Land" of the Premiership.

We ended up laying down and allowing West Ham to win 2-0 on the night. We lost 4-2 on aggregate, West Ham had a trip to Cardiff, they beat Preston 1-0 and they've been in the Premiership ever since, whilst we've been languishing in mid-table since that killer blow. After that loss to West Ham, we lost Shefki Kuqi, Darren Bent and Tommy Miller.

Whilst you may not believe it now, between them they scored about 40 goals. It's something we've never recovered from. Since the 2005/06 season, we've cemented our place as a mid-table Championship side, doomed to spend seasons in obscurity, which, compared to clubs like Charlton, Southampton and this season, Sheffield United. In a way, it's a kind of achievement. An unwanted one, but an achievement nonetheless.

So, that was the last football match I've wanted to cry about. Until last night.

As you can see from the two previous blog posts, I was actually feeling optimistic, which is rare for me. I was sucked into the pre-derby hype. I believed we were a changed side, a better side, a side with confidence, pride and passion. What turned up at Portman Road in the blue shirts last night was the first time I have felt ashamed of my football club.

Yes, I still love Ipswich Town, and will be off to Swansea to cheer them on again, I'm still immensely proud to call myself a Tractor girl, I still clapped them (quietly and with a scowl on my face) as they were going off. But everyone who wasn't in that dark corner of the Cobbold Stand at Portman Road expected a better performance than the absolutely humiliating one yesterday. You thought Carrow Road was bad? It had nothing on this.

I must give credit where it's due, Norwich have got together a decent side. They deserve to be up there. They exposed our weaknesses, kept Wickham quiet and hit us on the counterattack. But in a way, for all that, we were the ones who caused our own downfall.

First goal, Arran Lee-Barrett couldn't stop a cross and instead put it in the path of Surman. Second goal, McAuley somehow hit it into the back of the net. I think the fourth or fifth goal, we had two players inexplicably unable to tackle one player. Josh Carson had given the ball away, something that all the players had done all evening. We did the fancy stuff outside the box, but had nobody, NOBODY, in the middle, so instead had to faff about outside it and waste a glorious opportunity by taking Cesc Fabregas' advice and kicking it over the bar.

The defence has always been questionable this season. The Middlesbrough game was an example of how much of a disaster it can be. Yesterday, at some point during the second half, Carlos Edwards had the ball in the box we were defending, and instead of booting it up field, he decided to run towards Lee-Barrett, then try and run round two Norwich players. He nearly lost the ball in a dangerous area.

We left people unmarked, we passed the ball to a yellow shirt far too many times after being in a good run of possession. There were no hard tackles, the closest we got to passion was Darren O'Dea mouthing off at the lump that is Grant Holt.

Holt was looking for a fight. He was also always looking for a free kick. In the first half, and this is why I will never think of him as a good player (and it's not because he plays for Norwich), he was battling with O'Dea or Carson (I couldn't tell as Holt was behind them and I don't really know their haircuts), and Holt grabbed onto the back of the Town player and as soon as they got the ball, let go and tumbled to the ground so theatrically that he should be in the Royal Shakespeare company. He didn't get a free kick, because the referee actually had his wits about him. He gave our players shoves in the backs, sly elbows and pretty much convinced me that the man is an absolute disgrace. So I'm so pleased that the absolute tosser didn't score against us last night, although it provides me with very little consolation.

So what do we do now?

Well, firstly, the players need to take a long, hard look at themselves. They need to realise just how much they've let the fans down. To lose 4-1 away to your fiercest rivals was embarrassing, to lose 5-1 at home to them is almost unforgivable. And to do it in such an abysmal fashion?

Secondly, Paul Jewell needs to give the fringe players a chance. He needs to play a formation that suits his players. He needs to realise that Jason Scotland is not the answer to our striking problems. We've got three games left, we're safe, we might as well give them a chance. Jaime Peters, Luca Civelli. I don't think Luke Hyam's injured anymore and the same with Shane O'Connor. At least give them a shot to see what you've got next season. It can't do any harm.

Thirdly, Simon Clegg. You are taking the piss. You CANNOT complain about the fact Roy Keane stayed in the job for too long when YOU are the chief executive and it was YOUR decision, along with the owner, to keep him in the job for so long. You get no sympathy here. You also get no sympathy for your statements regarding the players contracts. I know he's not a normal chief executive, but our club has become just a mass business opportunity. Ticket prices are hugely inflated (adult away fans have to pay at least £30. Preston vs Ipswich is hardly the Championship fixture of the century), the communication with fans seems to be poor and if I'm honest, the heart of the club seems to have gone. The owner claims to be a fan, yet very few people know what he looks like, whether he's a true fan or just using our club as a strewd business opportunity. And sadly, I think it's the latter. Since his takeover, nothing much has happened. Magilton got sacked two years ago. What's honestly changed?

And finally, the fans. Last night I saw people get kicked out of the Sir Bobby Robson Stand for fighting with each other. Some fans greeted the cattle driven Norwich fans with taunts, which was expected, but then on the way back to the coaches and stations, they stopped people with young children getting home. Arrests were made and people behaved like idiots. Yeah, I'm disappointed and angry, but I'm not going to go and try to fight someone. I saw people kick seats, which almost broke. My language last night was appalling, but in the atmosphere that greeted me in the North Stand, it was difficult to keep a cap on your emotions. Not everyone behaved like animals though. At the final whistle, I stood with the group of people I was stood with all match and looked around the lower tier. Everyone had the same face I had. Disappointment was in the eyes and no smile was present. We were heartbroken, not because of the play-offs, that was a pipe dream anyway, but because of how easily we'd just laid down and handed our rivals victory, and probably promotion on a plate.

So, like I said, I'm off to Swansea on Monday. Today, however, like many other Town fans I'm sure, I'm wallowing in disappointment, avoiding all media sources that have football on it. So, mum, turning on Sky Sports News so I have to endure a drunken Delia Smith singing is really, really not appreciated.

Ipswich Town's season not mathematically over...

But, if we're all perfectly honest and realistic, it probably is.

On Thursday, we have part two of the East Anglian derby of the 2010/11 season. Norwich fans are getting excited about the thought of automatic promotion, Ipswich fans are getting excited about spoiling their party. But something has happened in the months since Paul Jewell has arrived at Portman Road. Suddenly, we are a team that seems happy, a team that seems to enjoy playing together and a team that, whilst it's disappointing to lose, know that if they have one bad game, they're not going to be cast away in the abyss, to be forgotten about or sent on loan to Crystal Palace.

Compare that to the team that, embarrassingly and spinelessly, got hammered 4-1 at Carrow Road. That team was disorganised and in a downward spiral, something I depressingly witnessed at Preston back in December. I witnessed Keane's last win, but that was down to the weather and Sky Sports being there. The next time I watched Ipswich Town, we had won 1-0 against Arsenal and again looked a completely different team. It was like a monkey had collectively been taken off the players' backs and suddenly, happier days could well be back at Portman Road.

Since January, the form's been up and down. We can go on a three game winning streak, then end up losing/drawing the elusive fourth win. For us to even have a sniff of the play-offs and to take advantage of those (which is a lot of teams) around us slipping up, I would say we have to win all our games. We have four games left. We won on Saturday against Bristol City in a scrappy, luck-riddled, but ultimately gritty performance. We have to face our dear rivals from Norfolk and Swansea, both sides that have been up in the top six for the majority of the season, Preston, a team fighting for their lives and Leicester, another one of those sides that could, but probably won't, be up there come May 7th.

However, after we lost to Reading, Watford and Portsmouth (it was grey, miserable and dire), I thought our season was over. After the horrendous run in November and December, being near the bottom of the table and getting worried about relegation, the fact we even have an outside chance of the play-offs is some achievement.

Do I think we'll do it? No, of course not, I'm a pessimist, but it's nice to have a dream. Having said this, I also, to some extent, wouldn't want us to get into the play-offs. Whilst we're on a good run of form, we got very lucky against Crystal Palace, as the Palace strikers didn't have their radars on. Against Middlesbrough, albeit after a sickening injury to Seb Hines, where he broke his jaw and managed to get up and play on, we lost concentration and after playing well, lost communication in defence and ended up going 3-1 down. Delaney had a mare and managed to inadvertently set up Boro's equaliser. Whilst we came back from what would've been a probably undeserved defeat, we have been in the same position against teams like Reading and Watford and lost. They are the teams above us, Boro are below us.

The comeback against Middlesbrough showed character, the performance with 10 men for an hour (and after Grant Leadbitter's nasty clash of heads, get well soon Grant) on Saturday also showed character. But the way we've played all season, with the inconsistent performances and all the youngsters coming through, I'd prefer next season to the real "OPERATION PREMIERSHIP" that seems to have disappeared from the season ticket application forms this season.

This, of course, won't stop me coming up with ridiculous scenarios. Imagine if we did finish 6th and then Norwich finished in 3rd. An East Anglian derby play-off semi-final? Crazy. If we finished 6th and Norwich didn't finish 3rd, we could face Cardiff, a team we've been doing quite well against in recent years. But, like I said, these are just ridiculous scenarios that I've conjured up in excitement for Thursday.

I'm excited for Thursday. I'm in the North Stand for an East Anglian derby for the first time ever. I have so many memories from down the years of the derbies. Sito's sending off, that 3-2 victory that was Jim Magilton's last game managing, Pablo scoring a penalty to equalise and cause waves of people to run on the pitch...

All I can ask from Ipswich Town is a win this Thursday. Do it for the new manager, to convince him to give you a new contract. Do it for yourselves, to prove the match in November was a one off embarrassment. But perhaps most of all, do it for the fans. All you need to do is look at the ITFC hashtag on Twitter at the moment to understand how much it means to us all. The Norwich fans are fishing for a keyboard fight and Darren Huckerby's doing his "slap the scum" thing again, but the banter is mostly good natured.

So Town, I beg of you allow us this one glory. Give it your best shot, injure Grant Holt and make it worth a red card this time, get lucky, score a winner off your backside, I don't care. Because you have no idea what a victory would mean to the Ipswich Town supporting people of inside and outside of Suffolk.

Come on you Blues.

The East Anglian derby.

A Sheffield United fan once said to me, "It's not really a derby. To be a derby, you have to be in the same place. Not 40 miles from one another." 

It's not the Suffolk derby, is it? It's not the Norfolk derby either. This is the East Anglian derby. The two biggest clubs in our pokey, lovely region, fighting it out not just for bragging rights for the supporters, but for the county. It makes kids hate the sight of yellow and green (or blue and white, but why would they, when these two colours clearly stand for all the beautiful things in the world. Sorry, I'll try and be this thing called 'unbiased'...), hate Norwich/Ipswich, get stared at whilst wearing the colours of either Ipswich/Norwich in Norwich/Ipswich, makes people pronounce the names of these places wrong, makes half decent players become loathed because they played for the wrong team. 

I read this article on the BBC Sport website and the comments section highlights just how much this derby means to the inhabitants of Norfolk and Suffolk. It's the city of Norwich vs the town of Ipswich. People outside of East Anglia seem to dismiss it, they don't understand what all the fuss is about and just think it's the locals getting restless. But a neutral sitting in Portman Road or Carrow Road would see just how passionate this derby is, how much of an atmosphere envelopes the ground. The Portman Road fixture, despite, weirdly, being on a Thursday evening will probably attract over 25,000. It's Good Friday next day. The kids are off school (probably, I haven't really checked dates), I'm home from university and will be itching to get a ticket in the lower deck of the North Stand. 

Heroes have been made in East Anglian derbies, Danny Haynes for his last minute winner, that we all maintain went in off his head. Honest. Probably incredibly insignificant to most, but also David Wright, for scoring the equaliser in my first ever away derby. That's the over-riding reason I was gutted he left during the summer. Sad, yes, but it shows just how much the East Anglian derby means to me. 

The uproar (well, there was uproar in this university room, I shouted, "WHAT!" quite loudly at the laptop and went into a huff) that Jake Humphrey, a Norwich fan, is presenting the coverage of the East Anglian derby is something people can't understand. Ipswich fans think the BBC is biased towards Norwich. ITV Anglia definitely is, in this paranoid mind. You know how it annoys you that they have ex-Liverpool players as summarisers on MOTD? Yeah, this is 10 times worse. I only hope Matt Holland is in the studio, but then he plays neutral very well. 

Humphrey, if you so much as smile about anything to do with your side, you are going down. 

Being outside of East Anglia for it is difficult. I know no other true Ipswich fans, and when I see people wearing yellow and green scarves, they're Manchester United fans. So I shall be watching the derby somewhere, preferably in the comfort of my own flat, because I don't think my colourful language will be suitable for a bar at that time of day. Or I will listen to it online and hope that the BBC put it up afterwards.

As a kid, being an Ipswich fan made me dislike one of the faces of my childhood, Blue Peter presenter, Simon Thomas. Because he's a budgie. As a teenager, it makes me sad that a man as intelligent as Stephen Fry would support them. I've tailed off the point here, so I think all that's left to say is, come on Ipswich. We may be in a slump, but if you can't get up for this, then there's no point in you being here. We've got local, young lads in the squad now, who surely must understand the passions involved in this Anglian pride. Play well, and you're a hero to thousands.


With the inevitable likely to happen in Brisbane, bring it on, budgies. Bring it on.