Bloody Boreham Wood. What is it about those fellas from Hertfordshire that causes grown, supposedly semi-professional footballers to revert to a type of teenage mentality compromising about as much use as an Iranian gin salesman. Plus it's also not the first time that Sutton have put up about as much fight as a French Army Division. Oh no...
Thursday, 20 September 2018
The history of football in Alicante is bound up with the legacy of the Spanish Civil War. This was the last city to fall to Franco and the walls and unmarked graves are pocked with the bullet holes and full of the corpses of the tens of thousands tortured, starved and killed as Falangist reprisals let rip in the days and years after 1939.
Sunday, 16 September 2018
I'm not a fan of clubs merging. It all started going wrong when Corinthians merged with The Casuals for me and it's been down hill ever since. I mean, even that bird on Countdown who does all the really hard sums hasn't got a clue how many thousands of Essex clubs eventually ended up in the Dagenham and Redbridge melting pot and don't even get me started on all that fucking nonsense at Gravesend. What goes on down there doesn't concern me at all.
Wednesday, 12 September 2018
Did you hear the one about English 5th Tier teams being invited to play in the Scottish Challenge Cup this season? Hey, what are you laughing at? What, do we amuse you? This isn't some sort of silly joke, this is serious! No, you fuck off. Right that's it sunshine, fucking outside now!
Wednesday, 5 September 2018
This is a bit suss ain't it? Playing a third re-formed, ex-league club in a row? And yes, before you all start writing in with your letters, telegrams or Carrier Pigeons, I know that Airdrie is also a re-formed club as well. But still, is there a connection really, or am I just trying to create some sort of nonsensical story arc in order to flesh out the blog a bit? Hmmm...
Sunday, 2 September 2018
Now, normally for these things we'd fill in this part with some sort of pre-amble bollocks that has a vague connection to what then follows. Well, sometimes at least. It's mostly just rambling rubbish designed to pad the piece out and make us look like we've put some thought or genuine effort into it all. Well, this week, I have confession to make. I got nothing. Zero. Nada. Not a Sausage. Yeah, sorry about that.