Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[AltyTunnelSteward]

 I spent my childhood years in The Bob End surrounded by old men in gabardine macs who were so filled with pessimism it was a wonder there was any room left for their vital organs. By kick-off the mood resembled a Grim Reaper Convention.

"I don't like the look of this," the old men chorused whenever the opposition had the ball. "This is dangerous," they groaned as they approached halfway. "Here's a goal," they rumbled as they approached the penalty area. And when the visitors finally did score in the 91st minute they would growl: "There, what did I tell you?" And they would turn and stalk out, shoulders hunched, wearing the bitter grins of vindicated cynics. It seeped into my subconscious. I don't believe we will play a lot worse than that and win. I think we will play a lot worse than that and get beaten even more badly.

I read this and thought of at least one denizen of the Popular Side although I'm sure that there are more!