Being pissed off at PvH really masked how stupid we were to sell Campbell.
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I'm not sure it did. I was furious when they sold Campbell and Cooper. (Although the latter was more understandable.)
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The anger at the club was partly diverted to PvH.
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Those two were a genuine PL-ready strike force, which is why they pissed all over defences at D1 level. PvH was entirely correct that with a couple of quality additions in summer 1998 (which was all it needed), we'd have been back to a comfortable mid-table side again.
Going up and losing PvH, Campbell and Cooper while replacing them with the likes of Darcheville, Shipperley, Freedman and Quashie was only ever going to end badly.
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Who got rich from that business, was that Scholar times?
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I always thought the strangest thing about that period was that the money from the Cooper and Campbell sales was actually reinvested, but blown on vastly inferior players (£2.5m for Campbell on Freedman Shipperly and the Darchville loan; £2.5m for Cooper on Quashie). Then, of course, having to make £1m available to BFR to sign Palmer, along with other futile sundry purchases.
It was just all so pointless - I could at least have understood it (without accepting it) if they'd simply aimed to maximise profit.
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Wasn't the thing that tipped PvH over the edge that the club wasn't interested in signing Wim Jonk?
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It's all a bit hazy now but wasn't the consensus at the time that Quashie was the next big thing and that we'd actually done a great deal in getting him to the club?
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Yes, and to be fair he was starting to look good until he his infant son died. He did well after he left us.
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I think that was Scholar and Wrays plan - to jump on the bandwagon of clubs being floated on the stock exchange. Unfortunately that bubble burst before Forest were ready so we avoided that particular clusterfcuk.
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Oh, they did float (on AIM) and, somewhere, I've got the share certificate to prove it. When ND took over he did it in a way that those shares became worthless.
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Carnaval de Paris is a great football tune. Not great for singing in the stands, mind.
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Chicago: Dead on.
