You know, I don't think I have ever had a blogpost before with that title. Which is bizarre. So is the fact that I actually don't mention them very much on this 'ere blog. That is partly to do with the fact that, being a total Jonah, it is very difficult for me to watch them. I haven't seen them live in years - the last time I saw them live Eric Cantona was suspended after his heroic karate chop at the same ground, a match I had missed because it clashed with a Central Services Committee followed by Full Council in an attempt to set a budget when we were a hung council. 1995, I think.
I don't watch them on TV as often as I might, because of things getting in the way. And me being a Jonah, even through the cathode rays. I had a massive sulk at the start of the season. The season started too early. And in some ways, not early enough. We had a disastrous start to the season. I was contemplating a blog post after our two draws and two losses, when we finally won, saying "look like the football season's just begun..." Then we lost to Coventry in the Mickey Mouse Cup, and I knew it was going to be one of those seasons. Yeah, it was like we remembered how to win, but it was always boring 1-0.
Then suddently, 4-0, 4-, 4-2, 4-1 (2-2 at Arsenal was a bloody good result even though I was gutted when they equalised so late) and 4-0. What's this lads? A bit of FOUR play...cringe
Blimey, we've qualified for the knock-out stage of the Champions League already. Not only that, we've got maximum twelve points, which is more even than Barcelona and Arsenal. Oh bugger, Arsenal. Our eminence gris. We'd be looking bloody rampant if it wasn't for them. Oh my god, Manchester City are only two points behind us in the Premiership. That's scary ('thirty one years and they've won f*** all, City is our name').
I enjoyed the match this evening!. My expectations and hopes are rising...by my age I should know better. Too often they've been dashed...Oh wait, we've been here before. Am I in fact the most miserable pessimistic football fan ever? Or am I, in fact, Kipling-esque, meeting with Triumph and Disaster and treating those two imposters just the same.
There's another six months to go yet. Oh the anguish...
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