Somewhere From The North: An Announcement

As our regular readers will be aware, Mr and Mrs X are soon to make the Mr and Mrs part legal, or as legal as you can get in the great state of Nevada. This will mean that postings will get a bit sporadic over the next month or so as we travel west to east across the great plains, into Dark Territory and onwards to Newark. Mrs X has already advised me that the wedding will now be taking precedence over any interneting so don't be too surprised if the next posting comes from a Starbucks in San Francisco. (A wedding list is available at John Lewis. Just ask for X)

But before then, the woolybacks come to T'Reebok on Saturday and another must win game comes along since the last must win game, in which, you will recall, I suffered some sort of nightmare while falling asleep watching. This is the last game of the six which were pinpointed as games that T'Wanderers had to get some points out of and as that points total currently stands at seven from a possible fifteen, sticking it to Wigan and making it ten from eighteen, which will get most of the dogging naysayers looking over their shoulder, is a must.

After the debacle on Tuesday, it would take a fool to second guess the manager as to the team selection, barring Jussi, Gretar, Knight Zat of Villashire and Super Kev. All the rest must be fretting as to who will play. We have continually said that Stefan Dennis is an accident that has already happened and Jlloyd must have tried it on with St Owens gran for him not to have had a look in. Or, and here's an original thought, wasn't Ricky Gardner a left back for about five years before Jlloyd came in? The other centre seems to be between AOB and The Shitt, an unedifying choice, I'm sure you'll agree.

As for the midfield, the ones who just watched Sunderland walk through them on Tuesday, we would expect Lee to stay and Little Jack to keep his place if he gets over his knock and then it's perm two from Ricky, Dracula, Samantha, Matty, Tamir or even Super Kev coming back. Personally I'd like to see the Misfiring Swede placed on the wing. All we ever hear is that he works his socks off and surely he would be able to do that on the right. That would leave plenty of scope for SuperKev and Kidneys up front. As for the bench, I hear their trying to draft in some of the ladies team, such is the paucity of back up.

About the game, St Owen says

We recognise that we are playing a very good side in Wigan who had a tremendous boost the other night with their victory over Liverpool

but he has ultimately failed to mention that Liverpool failed to roll over Lille last night, which shows he far Fat Rafa and his not so merry men have fallen this season. I mean, Wigan then Lille eh? Phumph. When it comes to Wigan this season, if they hadn't played one less game than us, they would have an almost identical record and they have been as atrocious away from home as we have and as good at home which is probably something to do with their turnip of a pitch as, bar Rodellega, Kirkland and Bramble, I'm having difficulty from naming their players. For this we are going for a 2-0, as that bitch is going to come round eventually and I'm going to be quids in, which will pay for a few games at the MGM Grand.

Our usual two experts, Lawro goes for a Bolton win, for once, while Hansen goes for a draw.

Speaking of pundits who regularly speak out of their anus, I heard an interesting podcast this week when a journalist from France Football stated how exasperated he was that the only TV pundits that there are in the English game are ex footballers. Whilst there are ex football playing pundits in France, he said, they are complimented by experienced journalists who can give an opposing view to their slightly one sided viewpoint. And as for co-commentators, whenever the opportunity arises, Mr Whinger crosses the channel and gives some erudite comments. Can you imagine Fergie doing that. And can you imagine a Soccer Saturday with Merson, Thompson and the blokes from the Tory and the Indy? And that is our thought for the day, and possibly our last thought in England for five weeks. On football that is. My last thought in England will probably be that something this large isn't supposed to fly.

Until then, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I have the only gun on board. Welcome to Con Air.