Bruce: Dunn’s back

Black: What about it?

Bruce: About what?

Black: Dunn’s back

Bruce: I just said that

Black: Is it gone?

Bruce: Where’s he gone?

Black: Who?

Bruce: Izzet?

Black: Dunno but Dunn’s back

Bruce: What about about it?

Black: You mentioned his back

Bruce: That’s right, he’s back

Black: And I asked what about it?

Bruce: What are you talking about?

Black: Dunn. His back ok

Bruce: You’re damned right he’s back ok

Black: Is it fixed?

Bruce: I haven’t asked him

Black: Dunn?

Bruce: Izzet

Black: Is it Dunn?

Bruce: Is what done?

Black: His back

Bruce: I’ve already told you he is

Black: We could have done with Dunn sometime ago. Our record is good when he plays

Bruce: Is it?

Black: No, Dunn.

Bruce: Shut up man, the coach is here

Black: Is it?

Bruce: Don’t start that again.

(Homage to Abbott and Costello)

Indulge me please with the above. It’s been a long time waiting for Dunn’s back to be done so he can come back. I wouldn’t mind if he only got twenty minutes against the cast from Mordor as long as he gets the opportunity to wield some influence as per normal.

The defeat to Arsenal was to be expected. What wasn’t expected was the tenacity and all round sterling performance by the boys with only ten men for the majority of the game. It would have been simple to roll over and accept defeat against one of the finest teams in club football, granted we still came away with sod all. I thought the targets for the boo boys such as DJ, Clem and Tebs all had outstanding games and acquitted themselves well against far superior big time charlies.

The goal was a real bummer. Van Persie’s shot was tame and the remarkable Taylor had it covered until it was cruelly deflected over him. I guess we all thought the goal was going to come eventually but as the minutes ticked by the pessimistic half empty glass slowly took on a new angle. The damn thing was nigh on full when some Dutch muppet knocked it over.

Pennant caused them problems all afternoon and Emile fluffed an early chance. Purely hypothetical but as a spectacle I wish King Kenny had been able to stay on the pitch. It was a definite sending off though and the penalty was also the right decision. Taylor deserved to save the penalty and hog the limelight, it was just a shame the myopic cyclops who awarded the man of the match award didn’t take his seat until the last two minutes and missed an amazing display of goalkeeping.

And so we come to the local derby.

Six matches between the clubs in the Premiership. Four wins and two draws for the boys in blue. That is one fine record. It’s going to end. Maybe not today but one day. Our fiends (sic) from up the road support a proud club. One that has, in its day, dominated English football. We know this because they remind us of it in every debate. It might have all happened whilst Queen Vic was on the throne but it happened. There might have only been twelve teams in the league but it happened. There might not have been televisions, videos, bananas and tobacco in England but according to the record books the Villa won plenty of things.

This pride in their history means that they badly want to be top dogs, the dog’s danglies, queen bitch, the winners of Crufts. Oh how they hate competing with the mongrels. Oh how they despise playing with the also rans. Oh how they hate finishing below breeds of far less pedigree than them like the Charlton Terriers and the Bolton Hounds. Welcome to the real world.

The will to win in this fixture has driven our players to raise their game to a level previously invisible. Whatever it is that Bruce lets them watch in the hours leading up to the game is working. It could be a SkyDaz commentary or it might be Dirty Dancing. Remember nobody puts Baby in the corner. The Villa players seem to wilt in the cauldron of the contest and the Blues players revel in its heat. Last season Hendrie tried to demonstrate his passion for the fight but ultimately just made himself look stupid. In some games running around like a decapitated fowl works and in others you just look an incompetent fool. Like Our Robbie used to.

Here’s hoping for a fine game of football played in a good spirit and let’s all have a beer afterwards together celebrating the fact that the best team won. Us of course.

Keep Right On. Big up respect to my homies. Whoever you are.