COYW
Afternoon. I’ve been away from the old machine for a few days but luckily nothing of any real significance has happened since last contact so we can pretty much pick things up where we left them.
Oop…hang on…just been passed a note.
Right, well. That is interesting. He might retire, you say? And what about Gary? Sticking with Sky? Probably a good move. They like him over there.
Hot dogs and jumping frogs. What a week it’s been. The footballing landscape has endured seismic shifts from which we may never recover a toehold again; the end of a dynasty, a New World Order, the changing of the guard. Yep, all very well, Geoffrey, but if you could just keep the noise down for a second, we’ve got our own problems to worry about over here. Chief of those, trying to keep check of a Champions League dream that just plumb refuses to die. Why won’t you die!?
Bale’s eleventh-hour heroics against Southampton; the deadlock at Stamford Bridge, which, under normal conditions would be a respectable outcome; the late win against Stoke and Charlie Adam, the world’s first ironically professional footballer. Three results which’ve ensured it’ll go to the final day and the hope will consume us all.
Whatever the result tonight, I’d say it’s been an excellent first season for Villas-Boas, essentially operating with one arm gaffer-taped to his back; with injuries, the chairman’s muddled transfer policies and whatnot. To have equalled last year’s points total with a game to spare is fairly remarkable. Perhaps Wigan can do us a favour this evening (no pressure, chaps, but if you don’t I will hunt you down and do stuff to you. Weird stuff.) perhaps it’ll be one great escape too far. Whatever the case, whatever our final League position, I think we can all agree that Alan Pardew is one super cool dude.
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