Old warhorse Jamie Clapham shows his class

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Impish eyes were glancing at the directors’ box more than a little to see if a familiar face could be spotted amongst the sharp suits and club ties, something City fans are used to when the club policy towards managers has tended to be the more the merrier rather than steady as she goes. 

This is a little unfair on the present board having been more or less forced into replacing Peter Jackson and Chris Sutton, but a glance at the number of bosses employed does make lengthy reading when compared to some clubs who have been able to achieve success on rather less personnel. 

So it is to be hoped that the next incumbent can get the club moving in the right direction, and be given the time to achieve his goals. 

The fans have shown that they will come to support the team in much greater numbers than at present if they see a successful side and that does not necessarily mean promotion but it would make a pleasant change for the long-suffering football followers of the City and beyond. 

Macclesfield Town were the visitors at the weekend there were several familiar faces in their entourage, including manager Gary Simpson, Paul Morgan, very well regarded and fondly remembered by Imps supporters, Nat Brown (a typical Keith Alexander battler if ever there was one) and Richard Butcher. Only Brown would make the starting XI, along with former loanee, Hamza Bencherif. 

Presumably any prospective managers had their notebooks in hand because everything they need to know about this team was there for them to see. A first half of dominance, the side pumped up, crowd behind them, chance after chance went begging, corner after corner, wide play, wing play. 

Anderson had lost his place in defence, City looked steadier but far from rock-like. When the goal came it seemed a scruffy affair although a determined enough finish, a Jarrett free kick, Watts back heels, Swaibu slides in. By half time City should have been a distant blur of red and white on the horizon but weren’t, how many times have we said that? 

Second half and a different City emerge from the dressing room. Macc got back in the game. Scott Lindsey had warned in his pre-match interview that the Silkmen would present their greatest threat through set pieces. Advice disregarded. City failed to deal with a free kick and there was Bencherif to bundle in. Another City old boy, just had to be! 

What were City made of, would there be a response? They piled onwards. Benchcherif handled and was booked, protests his innocence to no avail. Step forward Jamie Clapham to take the kick. Clapham, Lincoln born, had played at the highest level. He shaped to take the kick. Sublime is such an overworked word but sublime it was, curled in from 25 yards into the top corner. 

Premiership revisited, keeper Veiga could do nothing about it. 2-1 to City, they survived four minutes of added time. Agony and ecstasy. This time, just for once it was ecstasy. 

Scott Lindsey would like to stay on at Sincil Bank in his role as first team coach when the new man arrives. There can have been no better result to put on his CV than this. 

Disclaimer: The views in this article are that of the writer and may not replicate those of the Professional Footballers' Association. 

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