The final laying to rest of our footballing identity was a depressing affair. The last rites were administered with our final four games of the season. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The lingering embers of anything resembling Bielsaball were finally snuffed out by Sam Allardyce’s predictably gloomy cameo, following a confusing twelve month study of chaos theory under Jesse Marsch, and a dramatic lurch to something tepid with Javi Gracia. Hopefully we are about to rebuild with a fresh, clearly stamped, possession-based attacking personality under Daniel Farke. This I am very optimistic about.
It’s the non-footballing identity I have a problem with. The design of the other visible assets that define us, and every club. The kit, and the badge.
As a so-called ‘legacy fan’, I’m attuned to, and find comfort in, tradition. The things that provide iconic anchoring points and build a lasting identity both on and off the pitch. Let’s focus on the kit.
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