|
In the absence of WellDon, this has been a productive old day. Let me tell you how it went chez Gers
“Alexa, what time is it?” “Good morning Gers. It’s 6:01am”. And with that, we were up. First breakfast. Granola and our first coffee. We have a very expensive bean to cup machine which makes exquisite coffee, but sometimes you feel that it’s like having a child, it takes so much looking after. Then The Guardian, which leads with the horrific attack in Moscow, but I was more interested in the dreadful news about the Princess of Wales. We can only wish her, and her family all the very best.
At seven The Today Programme, and before you know it, it’s eight and time for Radcliffe and Maconie on 6 Music. It’s my favorite radio show, and we never miss it. But time marches on, and after a shower, it’s dog walking time. Then home for the second breakfast. A toasted cheese muffin and another coffee, That takes the caffeine intake up to three cups and it’s only half nine. Then it’s time for an extremely strong pain killer, coupled with another tablet that lines my stomach as the opioid tablet is so strong. If you’re ever tempted to have half your foot amputated, I’d think again. It’s not great, but it is what it is. Anyway…
Being an extremely keen gardener it was time for the first cut of the lawn of the year, and a tidy of the garden. Have to say it looked pretty good, especially considering it hadn't been touched since last august just before the old foot chopping off business. Not entirely sure what time it was, but I’m thinking somewhere around noon. Which means it’s time to mop the floors. We have a wooden floor in the lounge, and slate in the kitchen. Both of which, somewhat like the coffee machine, take a bit of looking after. The Current Mrs G then came back from the hairdresser with the suggestion that we might like to go to McDonald’s for some lunch. Which we duly did. Big Mac meal for both of us, and I won an apple pie on their latest promotion. Nice.
Still being quite early in the grand scheme of things I wanted to go to PC World as I fancied a new smart watch. However, being as I already own two, it felt like somewhat of an indulgence, so I didn’t bother. When we came home I suddenly felt incredibly tired, so had a wee lie down. Before you know it it’s half four, and I’ve been asleep for the best part of an hour and a half.
So, with the game kicking off in less than three quarters on an hour, there’s just time for a quick pint, before settling down in front of the telly for the main event.
We started off somewhat on the back foot as Stockport came out of the traps in full throttle. But their attack didn’t come to much, and before you knew it MK took control of the match, and it seriously looked like it would just be a matter of time before we scored. Tomlinson especially looking impressive in the opening twenty before Payne almost opened the score with a trademark freekick which just went wide, before the heavens opened and Edgeley Park looked as if it had lept four months into the past as horizontal rain battered Gilby’s men. In fact the rain was so heavy that it actually penetrated the Sky commentary box. Now, this is where things started going a bit shit. A harmless ball into the box, which, under very little pressure, Kelly dived down to his left to gather. Now, as I’ve already said, it was raining. I’m not a goalkeeper. I’m actually a 61yr old man with one and a half feet, but I reckon I could’ve done better than he did. A simple enough ball for a professional footballer somehow resulted in an embarrassing fumble resulting in Stockport’s Camps rolling the ball into an empty MK net. And with that the floodgates opened. We were three nil down at halftime, and to be honest we were lucky to get nil.
The break signaled that it was time for a large single malt. Talisker is a wonderful thing, and a friend of mine recently informed me that it was George Smiley’s drink of choice. It didn’t help, as Stockport if anything actually came out with renewed vigor, and by the fifth minute of the restart we were four down to a wonder strike from the wonderfully named Lemonhaigh-Evans. To be honest I lost interest somewhat after that. The Current Mrs G came home after feeding the horses, and being almost seven, I took the dogs out. There was only ten minutes to go, and even though I said that there was a chance that we’d come back and beat them five four, and I’d never forgive myself if I missed it, it actually turned out that they scored a fifth as I walked the streets of Stony with my canine buddies.
After a three egg omelet, made with fresh eggs laid by our chickens, it was time to think that there’s no probability we either stand a chance, or indeed deserve to go up. Difficult to digest the match. We were humiliated on national TV. Made to look stupid. Which in all honesty we were. Kelly’s not good enough unfortunately. Dean made a cameo appearance, and missed a chance that he’d have buried easily before his enforced injury. I’m sure we hit the post at some time, but as I’ve already said, I'd lost interest by that point. I’m not going to mention the manager’s post-match reaction. He’s hardly likely to say we were a massive pile of shit now is he? We had over 64% possession, but did fuck all with it.
If we do somehow manage to fluke promotion, we have to seriously strengthen, but as we all know that’ll never happen. If anything we’d go into next season weaker than we are this. We won’t progress as a football team under the current ownership. We just won’t. Ask yourself how many golden opportunities have been missed to invest, all of which Winkelman has forgone.
As someone said at the end of last season, it’s a failed football experiment. But my garden looks fucking great.
_________________
When you make your music, do you think about the man in the street? No, I've met the man in the street. He's a Ladybit.
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
)