Alexander, Gilbert, Johnson, Ledley, Loovens, McNaughton, McPhail, Parry, … Go on have a guess? My school reunion pals? First conquests (nice of me to do them alphabetically!)? Astronauts from the last Space Shuttle? Or the nucleus of the Cardiff team that comprehensively beat the Blues on Saturday? Answers on a postcard.
Clearly it's not my conquests. There's too many of them in that list!
First prize is a night out with SkyDaz (the pretentious attention seeking media wannabe whore) and second prize is the pick of anything from his vast array of memorabilia including a team sheet from last season. Unsigned.
Last week's pathetic rambling induced a fair amount of debate and correspondence. In fact the posts were better than the article. Perhaps I should explain, but then again, perhaps not. One was quite cutting though in its insinuation that my demise from being the PA Guy has somehow enabled me to be critical rather than toeing the party line. Now ain't that the truth.
However these meandering thoughts committed to electronic memory are simply my own take on what I see, hear and think. More of the first two and very little of the latter. I was not impressed at all last season and found trips to the hallowed cathedral of shattered nightmares was becoming more and more depressing as the inevitability of relegation loomed. It was awkward to convey these emotions of despair whilst being the guy tasked with raising the spirits. No one wants to see a depressed clown not even a coulrophobic.
The summer passed in a haze of B6 ridicule and dreams of opening the batting for England and tampering with the ball to ensure victory even when it was a racing certainty.
Everyone made us favourites to go straight back up. We were a given promotion spot. The debate was about which other teams would go up with us. The point I was trying to make last week is that anyone who saw us play last season and how we began this campaign would know that automatic promotion was not guaranteed and would be a huge struggle. Even after the promising accumulation of points early on!
The problem is the manner and the style of play. In Fry-esque mimicry Bruce has splashed the cash on a number of attacking players as if to ridicule the opinion that his teams are dull, boring and lacking in attacking spirit. Jerome, McSheffrey, Danns, Bendtner, etc have all been drafted in to allay the accusations of a defensive minded manager without the capability of playing entertaining football. But in a mirror image of last season, as yet, it just isn't working. Freed from the shackles of part time employment has enabled me to say these things. I don't want to be pessimistic, I want the glass to be half full and Bruce to be declared the best manager in memory. I just want to witness some evidence that tactically we have learned and improved. I'm waiting.
Reading waltzed this league last season, scoring goals for fun, and playing skilful attacking football which threw a spanner into the argument that only hard graft, hoof ball and ugly football would succeed. Once again there is no debate that we have an ensemble of talented players good enough to do some waltzing but together it's two left feet. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not hoping Bruce fails, I'm praying that it all clicks and we sashay down the Boulevard of Premier Dreams once again and then we could go for peace in the Middle East, an end to Third World Poverty and a major trophy in the St Andrews cabinet.
Bruce said something after Saturday's game that almost summed it up (almost!) ‘Only three or four of my players did what they are capable of and to be successful you need seven or eight'!! Seven or eight???? What about the others? What if the seven or eight are brilliant but the three who decide to have an off day are the goalkeeper and the two centre halves? Why can't they all play well? I know and you know that even the best players have bad days but that's the day when the rest of the team rallies around and covers and the manager tactically amputates the rotten part and replaces it with some fresh blood. But if I can see that and you can see that and by the sound of it the undiscovered tribes in the Amazon rainforest can see it then why can't the people who are paid handsomely to administer such things?
Ok I admit that Campbell and Jerome missed chances and McSheffrey forced a good save from Mr Alexander. Once again though our forwards are restricted to one decent chance a game each and are publicly shamed, ‘we had two clear opportunities to get back into the game and missed the pair of them … you can't miss chances like the two we had'. This kind of criticism is a surefire way of making the forwards more nervous, more inclined to snatch at the chance. Forssell used to claim that Blues made him a better player because he knew he had to take the one chance that came his way. That was two/ three years ago, anyone spot the change?
Enough of this melancholy. We have a week's break thanks to the international games. Did you know the official language of Andorra is Catalan and it is a third of the size of London? Anyone for a depressing two nil win against a country with the same population as Sandwell Valley?
However it is time dear people for Churchillian spirit. My good readers (and bad ones) the next diatribe from yours truly will be full of promise, reverberating with fire and brimstone and I will play the pipes and you can all dance behind me to the Promised Land (not Israel, the other one).
Keep right on. Play hard, play to win and if that fails, cheat. Come on England.