This article was originally written in 2012, shortly after Mick McCarthy took charge of Ipswich Town Football Club.
As a lifelong supporter of Ipswich Town, I have seen the club at its peak—during the late 1970s and early 1980s under the stewardship of the legendary Sir Bobby Robson. Those were our golden years, crowned with European glory and domestic pride.
Unfortunately, the decades that followed have been defined more by disappointment than by success. Apart from a handful of isolated victories over Premier League sides and a brief resurgence via a play-off final, Ipswich Town has failed to recapture its former glory. We have spent just five of the last twenty-seven seasons in the top flight. Yet, some fans continue to insist that we “belong” in the Premier League. The evidence doesn’t support that claim.
Our most recent spell in the top tier ended in familiar fashion—wasteful spending on ageing players like Finidi George, underwhelming performances, and a harsh return to reality. Prior to that, we had barely clung to survival each season, culminating in the infamous 9–0 humiliation at Old Trafford, delivered by one of the weakest Manchester United sides in Premier League history.
And still, we chant “Pride of Anglia.” But how much pride was there when Ipswich businesses—bakers, builders, carpet fitters—suffered financially as the club slid into administration?
Poor Recruitment and Weaker Eras
Once the likes of Mariner, Brazil, and Wark left, the quality of players brought in simply didn’t measure up. We endured a succession of underwhelming names—Putney, Paz, Marshall, Pennyfather, and an ageing Lee Chapman. It was a far cry from the UEFA Cup-winning side.
Some of the blame must lie with David Sheepshanks, whose long-term plan seemed to centre more on currying favour with the Football Association than improving the club. It worked—eventually he found his place at the FA—but Ipswich Town paid the price. Simon Clegg, brought in with high hopes, proved equally ineffective. Over just three seasons, we paid off the contracts of 13 players—equal to the number of squad members used during our most competitive seasons in the early 80s.
Managerial Turmoil
We’ve been spoilt by our early success under Ramsey and Robson. Since then, our managerial appointments have ranged from uninspiring to chaotic.
- Bobby Ferguson: Promoted internally but lacked the leadership to continue Robson’s legacy.
- John Duncan: Arguably one of the bleakest periods in the club’s history.
- John Lyall: Brief promise, but ultimately faded.
- George Burley: Delivered promotion and flirted with Champions League qualification. However, his lack of financial control—and alleged personal indiscretions—led to a rapid decline.
The Modern Era Missteps
- Jim Magilton, a fan favourite on the pitch, was let go on the same day as his mother’s funeral—classless.
- Roy Keane arrived amid media frenzy, courtesy of Marcus Evans and Simon Clegg. His tenure was a mess. Stories circulated of training ground rows (allegedly with Pablo Counago) and misplaced focus on players’ living arrangements over footballing matters.
- Paul Jewell, a Sky Sports pundit turned manager, somehow managed to perform worse than Keane—no small feat.
Now enters Mick McCarthy. The man is capable, yes. But he inherits a broken squad, a disillusioned fanbase, and a club that has spent too long chasing past glories.
The Goalscoring Void
To return to competitiveness, we need a striker who can score 20+ goals a season. Since John Wark netted 23 goals in 1982–83, only six players have hit that mark:
- Kevin Wilson – 25 in 1986–87
- David Johnson – 22 in 1997–98
- David Johnson – 23 in 1999–00
- Marcus Stewart – 21 in 2000–01 (Premier League)
- Pablo Counago – 20 in 2002–03
- Shefki Kuqi – 20 in 2004–05
Six instances in three decades. That’s not a trend—that’s a crisis in attacking talent.
Conclusion
Ipswich Town, for all its history, is a shadow of its former self. Nostalgia alone won’t drive promotion. Sentiment doesn’t score goals. Until the club is run with ruthless competence—and until we stop living in the past—we will continue to flounder in mediocrity.
Ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case.
