*Listening to Gaslight Anthem – ’59 Sound*
Well what a pathetic day, eh? You could count the amount games on a bumpkin’s hand, only a meagre six games get past a bit of snow.
There’s only one reason why the games have fallen foul to the weather – the lack of the orange football. (As me Dad hastened to add, “And open terracing and cups of Bovril.” So just hand out a cup of Bovril on entry and all will be gravy, so to speak.) As soon as the FA used to get out the orange Mitre sphere, the whole nation sighed a sigh of relief knowing they were not only going to be a able to see the ball, but watch a full game of snowy football.
If the goalkeepers are a little worried about feeling the cold, they can always ask Gábor Király where he goes shopping. And the rest of the side can do a Rusty and pop into the club shop and buy yourself some nice Yella’n'Green gloves.
Us fans are going to turn up if the “surrounding areas are unsafe,” after all, we’ll even go watch in Cardiff. Those surrounding areas are less than safe but we grin and bear it. The weather’s always a problem that we just accept and complain about; getting there, sitting there and then leaving.
The Dutch know what I’m on about.
I do also wonder whether Sir Alex will throw a spanner in the works and moan that there was too much stoppage time because he was a little nippy. The ever-graceful Fergie (even GNev is holding him back!? <=) called the five-minutes added on at the Leeds game “an insult to the game.” Something is an insult there Old Man, and it wasn’t that. They got a massive SIX minutes at St Andrews, their 12th man is still on form then. It’s been their most consistent performer all season.
Oh, and Paul Lambert, please continue to resist Burnley’s courting.
