God-forsaken James Blunt of a season it has been for
us.
As if it wasn't bad enough watching four mickey mouse
teams – three of whom have already beaten Rangers! –
battling out the League Cup semi-finals, we then had
to sit on the sidelines on Scottish Cup fourth round
day. It all confirmed my suspicion that I'd rather be
at a piss-poor game than no game at all.
And the situation was aggravated by all the hype and
disappointment of those last few hours before the
transfer window closed. It is clear Walter has
settled for steadying the ship for now, aiming to give
the squad its main injection of new blood in the
summer. Fingers crossed and all that...
The best bit of news was that Hartley was joining Them
instead of Us. I don't know where Walter was coming
from even contemplating a move for that scumbag. His
contempt for our club was evident in his rants in the
Millwall fanzine and the very thought of him picking
up a wage from us turned my stomach.
Besides, at his age it would have been a million quid
down the swanny. At least with Kevin Thomson we
should get a right few years out of him. Hopefully,
Brown will join him in the summer and, with Gow and
maybe another one or two on the way, the squad should
be undergoing a massive overhaul.
Hopefully, we will be laying foundations which can be
built on over a period of years, instead of going for
quick fixes every summer. We'll just have to hope it
doesn't take them too long to bed down, otherwise we
could be facing a repeat of this season and, come to
think of it, last season too. Heaven forbid!
Ra Sellick's absence from the semi-finals helped to
get me through my midweek boredom but Saturday
afternoon in the pub, with us all suffering together,
didn't get any easier. Mind you, the
last minute winner for Dunfermline got a bit of a
cheer. I know a few Jambos who have already been made
to pay for being lippy when we went out a few weeks
earlier.
But our gloom returned when we watched Scotland
getting gubbed at the rugby. I'm not a nationalist
but, when it comes to Scotland v England at any sport,
I'm afraid I can't hide where I come from. Watching
all the media fawning over Jonny Wilkinson was every
bit as irritating as it would have been if it was
Beckham, Owen or Rooney.
Saturday night was heavy bevvy night which was great
in itself but made for a pretty hairy Sunday. We were
back on the same rollercoaster little more than ten
minutes after opening time so our thoughts on the
Livi-Septic mismatch were really vocal. If the TV
drooling over Wilkinson was bad on Saturday, Setanta's
‘we're-not-worthy' adulation of Knackered 24
hours later was feckin repulsive.
I wonder if he'll be quite so prominent when Wee Rino
gets in about him in the Champions League. Come to
think of it, I wouldn't put too much money on him
sticking his head above the parapet when Caley Thistle
get stuck right into them in the next round.
Mind you, I'd much rather we had a tie of our own to
look forward to. I'm all ears to any suggestions to
brighten up what is shaping up to be another dire
weekend.
ERWIN G.