Peter is back in the Alloa hotseat as our descent into the weekend begins. It’s a new season but that pesky BCR clause is back…

“The stadium steps are already quite wet with dew / It is so late that the dew soaks my All Stars / And I let down the crystal curtain / And watch the mighty Alloa through the clear autumn” – Rihaku

Are we too big for our boots now? Or are the boots of an appropriate size that the feet have developed elephantiasis, no matter the attempts stretch the leather can it accommodate the gross out of proportion appendages? Each time the summer sun rises over the garden fence, my phone rings and I’m called back into the office to be greeted by the dirty smirk of a diamond studded and tattoo emblazened football agent knowing he possesses the upper hand of the Big-Club Release Clause.

The first to pack his bags is Graeme Brennan. Middlesbrough were the first to approach before the usual pile on began. Unlike Deep Blue, the gaming algorithms never learn and he decides sit the next few years out in the Liverpool reserves.

Agostino’s form was always as indifferent as a chameleon’s dinner jacket so this was an easy decision. The lack of any trophies last year shrunk his asking price so he’s off to Leeds to join the other half of the Scottish International squad.

Kevin was quite a steady presence in our shaky defence. We certainly missed him when he was injured although I am surprised I didn’t get a higher fee for him.

I’d totally forgotten that Ian’s brother had a the Big-Club small print. Sad to see him go even at that price. At least I don’t need to extend the tired Bunnymen jokes.

And that concludes the fire sale at the Rec. All that’s left was a sheet of upside-down aeroplanes and a rotten violin by Strati-who-vius. With a decent bit of kitty available, it is time to Keegan it up and bring home a legend. We’re on our preseason tour and he won’t be joining the squad until our return. He had one good season at Tottenham then started moaning he wanted to move to a bigger club. Oddly, he choose Burnley. With Wayne Hennessey’s recent grasp on reality, we can safely say these footballers are a couple of episodes of ‘Allo ‘Allo short of the full DVD set.

Not just footballers who are oblivious to the recent past as I dance a 180 and bring in two youngsters. A quick scan of the contracts and neither requested a BCRC. Like a proud father, I shed a tear as to how far we’ve come.

Into the meat and drink and the crowd remember last years Turk chant. Alex is given a heroes welcome and he rewards the faithful.

Our Champions League hymen is broken by the flirting eyes of an olive-skinned Cypriot team. We put them to the sword and Bazzer plays an absolute blinder until he’s given the personal treatment.

10 (Ten) months??? Things were going so well!

At least the wave we’re riding on is…oh

Russell tries to start a come back but we give him the Grace Jones treatment to keep them at bay.

We make a return to Cyprus to ask if our fling was just a summer dalliance? We don’t have the heart to be angry and we leave as friends.

This is the content we all came for! No idea who Zimbru are. They sound like Iron Bru and I’ll exhume those old gags.

Our hearts are wrecked, our emotions drained and scorched as the desert sands. So it’s no surprise we pick up 2 yellow cards within the 1^st minute. I promised a boys a trip to the Wilko pick’n’mix after the match and they calm down enough to get all three points.

Dundee are still going strong and give us a head start. Brebs is loving being back in the gold shirt.

Another team of Hearts are broken and battered by our front two. We’re still playing in front of a half empty stadium at the moment. Clearly only coming for the big games. We might need to think about upping the half-time shows. Get me Geoff Capes agent on the phone…

It was going so well for faux-Paul…clearly too much time on his own after the heart break…

Two clean sheets in a row then lead to this tribute to the mid-90’s Kevin Keegan tactics.

The Iron Bru of Moldova arrive on our shores and by half-time, they are regretting it. The declining compound quality of girders during the Soviet era is their excuse.

The half-time act booked, advertised, shouted from the roof tops, clearly works as the attendance figures show. Unfortunately, another Jeff steels the show while two-nil down.

An extra competition too far for the lads and we all agree that the William Low home brand of Cola is far superior. By the time the match ends, only the local Happy Shopper is open so we have to make do with Panda.

Yes, that’s Michael Owen, whose brief dalliance with Man Utd saw him re-sign with Rangers. We ‘Roy Keane’ their 2^nd best player and Alex sniffs his chance.

If that wasn’t tough enough, we head down the M6 to Old Trafford. Seven minutes in and I fear the worse. 15 minutes in, reality is contracting it’s jaws. So by half time, 2-2 is quite reasonable. I can’t believe the 2^nd half so I promise the lads a trip of Alton Towers the next day. The coach driver tells me it’s in the opposite direction to home and I have to break the news to the boys. They sulk all the way home.

6 (six) months??? We were doing so well! I tell the physio that I always misheard it as ‘crucial’ ligaments. He quietly puts the phone down and I wonder if my intelligence veneer is being to fade. No veneer in here…

The other crocodile merchants try their chances and we put the game to bed in the 1^st half.

That’s 9 in 8 for Martin as our defence holds up to a second half onslaught.

Kilmarnock are the latest victims of the Atheltic juggernaut. We’re coping well with the ever growing injury list.

We can’t cope with AC though. 4-0 down at half-time and the lads tell me they were distracted only just noticing the home teams are playing in their away kits. Is this normal??

The slaughter at the San Siro means our goal difference is reduced but we’re in a handy position to get to the knockout stages.

We’re sitting pretty domestically too! If we can keep the injury crisis to a minimal distraction.

Och aye for now!