Be still my beating heart. Oh I see, it has.
The sheer overdose of inertia pulsating through my veins has caused me to flatline. As longstanding readers will know of course, a goldfish with cerebal palsy could write this blog, so you’ll be unsurprized I can continue to type.
PSB in exchange for Aston Villa’s very own John ‘Star Man’ Carew*.
As theorectical deals for the next window go this would have to a considered a ‘goer’. Pointless Shouty Bloke has been linked with Aston Villa since he was a foetus. Add to this he hasn’t run away to join anyone’s circus for months now and you’re looking at a winning combo of transfer rumour.
St Gerard of Houllier has blazed a trail of draws and losses only interupted by the odd victory since he returned to the Premership. He inherited a squad that supposedly cost the same as ours yet achieved even less. It was only a matter of time before the splat of bathwater rapidly followed by the thud, wah, whaaahh of a baby landing on the Villa Park cobbles was heard.
John Carew. A thin brochure. Described a ‘bigger than me or you’ and and having a turning arc similar to that of a very, very large ship such as the Queen Elizabeth 2.
When it came to being linked with strikers – not so long ago it was the Horse Whisperer and the Wardrobe On Wheels. Then no one at all. Now it’s Carew. I smell decline. The new stadium is an elaborate hoax and Levy has secretly a hatched a plan to merge with the Pikeys and all play happily ever after under the name Athletico Stratford.
Women, children and Hotspur first. Let me through, I’m a first aider.