Happy to be Written Off

So that’s the title challenge put to bed for another year- I must say it was terrific fun while it lasted. Barely had I got the blue and white bunting down from the loft after our win against Everton, was I then tossing it into the fire with all my tax returns again on Saturday evening. Easy come, easy go. Sunrise, sunset and so forth.

And who’s to be held responsible for this uncharacteristic damp flannel of a performance? Well I for one blame those breakfast cereal companies who’ve spent years trying to cover their muck in sugar and marshmallow to get the kids on board. But that, I fear, is for another day.

The weekend’s result is what it is. Or was what it was. Two points dropped against a team who’d struck money early and were more than happy to park their defensive big-rig across our penalty area and jimmy it into neutral for the remaining minutes. Despite the super-serious look on Alan Shearer’s face on Saturday night- telling us, in no uncertain terms that we’ve got nay chance, pet– it’s far from terminal for the chaps in Lilywhite. What’s that saying? One swallow doesnay make your career choices questionable? Erm, no that doesn’t sound quite right…

Talking of Wor Alan. Notice how his resolve about our lack of title credentials on MOTD were about equal to those which backed our chances on Football Focus a few hours earlier. It goes without saying that the man was dropped on his head as a child. And possibly numerous times since.

Right, this is boring. Who’s got some transfer gossip to share before we talk City?

Seriously, make something up.

Do a Twitter and I promise I’ll recycle.

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