A. A noice kippah toy
Graham Roberts and Mickey Hazzard were operating off a wallpaper table on the High Road signing photos supposedly from 11am ’till 3pm. As they were still laughing and waving marker pens around at half five I can only presume they could have only seen more tenners if they had followed Placido Domingo and José Carreras into a Hall of Mirrors.
These are my beyond essential, initial thoughts.
West Brom are shocking. Unfortunately our season, bar the second half against Man Utd last week has been an exercise in mirroring. We play top four, we play top four. We play toss, we play toss.
Suffice to say we made a meal of it. Not just three courses, but like one of those lunatic, wannabe Michelin starred – trying too hard – chefs that turn up on that Gordon Ramsay’s Kitchen makeover show and their number of courses. Twenty seven dishes and very few you’d be in hurry to stick your fork in again.
Arry’s ability to substitute is beginning to worry me. Corluka was wearing invisible gravity boots and PSB looked like he’d only just finished the London Marathon in an It’s A Knockout foam Leprechaun suit.
Positives? Defoe‘s touch was sweeter than oranges. Jenas was ‘triffic for the first half – goal aside, he really was. The vocal support for Crazy Paving as he was erroneously subbed gave me an enormous sense of well being …well done everybody.
I’m off to sip ice cold imported beer and I may even whack a bit of Leo Sayer on. I’m in that kind of mood.