Well hello there. Happy Sunday. Season 15 is about to come to a close but it might be historic. It might be the greatest blog you’ll read. Ever? This week? This month? In the last 10 minutes? We’ll see. But LOOK AT THE TABLE. 13 games to become old champions. Beyond our wildest dreams.
We’re also still in the FA Cup and our third consecutive away tie sees us face Premier League Leeds. Somehow we come up with the goods again, old man Ole does his thing and we’re in the quarters.
Back to league action and we’re on for another vintage away performance as Veron scores from all of 30 yards. Boro, who recently tempted Bryan Robson back to the hotseat from Sunderland, snatch a late leveller. Sickener.
Another edgy game sees us just about beat Leeds. It’s February, it’s a bit early to be getting squeaky.
And yet, that is what is happening. Wolves are too organised for us and we fall to a rare home defeat. Concerned much?
Off we go to Strasbourg, who I still hold a grudge against after Mulhouse eventually toppled them in that wonderful save. My feeling towards them is not improved as we suffer a narrow 2-1 loss, though that away goal is useful.
Yet another away tie but this time it’s against Division 2 strugglers Halesowen. We should change our name to HalesOle because his hat-trick puts us through. That’s the type of quick wit you come here for.
SHOCK DEFEAT. Not for us, for Sheff Wed. The game has them pegged as some sort of Barcelona-esque side after they won the UEFA Cup. OGS causes the OMG whilst Santos gets sent off. One step closer to heaven.
Yes! Everything’s coming up Milhouse as Sibi gets the decisive goal. 68 minutes later we’re in the semis.
LEEDS. Not a holiday. But a good chance to make a European final.
York are making a pathetic attempt at Premier League survival and we do nothing to help that.
Defeat at Highbury though has us checking over our shoulders once more.
This isn’t a good result either. Leeds have the upper hand after the first leg, for sure.
Solskjaer looks to have given us the perfect start in our FA Cup semi at Old Trafford but Newcastle come back with De Wit, something we’ve established I lack. I’ll also lack a second FA Cup medal as Rojas sinks us in extra time. Darn.
A point at Walsall isn’t impressive. We’re struggling with the constant stream of games at the moment.
Everton are rock bottom of the table and Sibi shows us the way to a good day out at Goodison. However, we find ourselves 2-1 down and the doubts are creeping back in. Maybe a team of 35+ year old’s can’t win the league? Poppycock. Zola and OGS score in the same minute and WE’RE GOING TO MAKE IT AFTERAAALLLLL
Leeds are defeated! We’ll be in the UEFA Cup final against…Sunderland.
A win over one of our rivals puts us 8 ahead with 9 available for 2nd. We’ve got a game in hand. All of a sudden, we’re on the verge. The precipice.
If we can win our next game, we are the champions.
I never thought our crowning moment would come in Hull but here we are. In September 1997 we won 2-1 here on our way to promotion to Division 2 thanks to a Mark Chamberlain double and now here we are with a 3-0 win to take us to the top of the mountain.
YES! YES! YES!
With 3 games to spare as well. It’s so unlike us. We draw 0-0 with Derby, most of the team is rested.
Huddersfield are a bit of a bogey team for us and with one eye on the UEFA Cup final, I care not about this game.
All eyes on the mother of all holidays. Lisbon. The mackems. We beat them in the FA Cup final and have an oddly good record against them in recent times. Paul Jewell is the manager, who knows whether he was caught in an explicit video like he was in real life but if he’s in Sunderland, there’s every chance.
Glaucio gives us the lead and some sort of owl equalises. There’s nothing between the two sides and it goes to penalties. Penalties have been a mystery to us. We miss about 6 a season but have won some decent shootouts over the years, although not at Oldham earlier in the season. PauZo scores. They blaze over. Couto scores. They blaze over. Santos scores. KEITH B-REAL SAVES. YES!
What a day. We get on a cruise ship and dock in Plymouth (does Plymouth have a dock? Zak?) an hour before kick off. Still worse for wear, we win 1-0. Party at Zak’s house.
That went well.
Sociedad want my 42 year old. No. He is priceless.
Averages play out well for the goalkeeper and the back three. Moore still wants to move to a bigger club, the big idiot. Solskjaer’s goal return is ridiculous for a man of nearly 40.
I should think so.
Not much to say here except I am a big fan of Steve Ogrizovic being Coventry manager.
So to the retirements. Please, be kind.
Couto decides to quit. I’m distraught. He was still good at 42. Should have taken the £14k.
Santos follows. A year younger but he’s clearly worried that Couto made him look good.
Oh come on man, at least make other positions retire. Lambourde is the latest to go.
NO! Captain Bild a bear calls it a day. So young. Another crack at the Champions League too much to ask?
Kolkka the moomin has been a useful squad member. But no great loss.
See above comment but Pinto was not a moomin.
Sergi…should have been good, wasn’t.
Poor Moreno. I hope he gets better in real life.
Bjorkan was the last to go. I heard it on my radio. Then they played the latest number one.
But look on the bright side, there’ll be 1348 more seats to enjoy my lack of squad.
I don’t want to focus on the negatives, that is very much future Dave’s problem. We’re league champions and UEFA Cup winners. I always get nostalgic with this save, it was really kicking off as my son was born and I remember sitting by his cot as we reached the Windscreen Shield final which got us out of debt. Cascarino and Cecilia or whatever he was called. The late nights, the trawling the player search trying to find a 35 year old. Mick Quinn and the fact every time I mention him somebody tweets me to tell me he starves horses. The relegations. The promotions. The amount of you who have supported this mental idea for 15 seasons and now 46 episodes.
We’ll get to have a go at the Champions League next week. Yes, as of this writing my centre halves are Michael Duberry and Aitor Karanka. We don’t have a captain. Keith B-Real wants to leave. We’ve overcome the odds before…