Hello and welcome to the weekend.
Losing at Secondhand Fridge won’t be the end of the world but it’s dispiriting enough to open a pre-match with those words, let alone have to ponder what that scenario might mean in real life.
The thing is though, we can win this game. We absolutely 100% can. We have the assets, players who have all season laid on some of the most entertaining football in the country, on the continent, in the world.
What’s screwed us over aren’t injuries, crap players or acts of God. What’s screwed us over is poor judgement. And for that we should take comfort. Eh? In the softly spoken words of Sir John Betjeman, ‘Do wot Aitch?’ Yes, take comfort because a daft plan can be reversed, an strategy that didn’t pan out abandoned.
If Walker was struck down with a lashed liver, Azza Blud hospitalised with a kippered kidney, there’s not much one can do but let the medics do their best. And pray earnestly, of course (belt and braces).
But this fiasco is redeemable.
I’ve put Carlo in again purely to make the point about Brad being stuck to his line and the fact that he’s annoying me doing it. King needs a proper rest up and no discussion to be entered into about it.
So you play the 3 men you can count upon and shore them up with a pair of tough guys sitting deep in front of them. Parker and Sandro would give us 5 men deal with Mata, with Benny and Kyle obviously wanting to move the ball up whenever they can.
You put Modric in the middle where he does the most damage. You put Lennon on the right, Bale on the left and tell him to bloody well stay there. Rafa off Ade’s shoulder and we should all be home in time for tea and medals.
Prediction? I hear people saying they hope we can nick a point. I think we can nick that single goal that will win us all three. 1-2 with the winner scored late.