I’m going to put a big flat disclaimer right here – I played through this part of the blog whilst listening to Man Utd lose 3-0 to Sevilla – so pardon any exaspirations as we go forward, thank you.
Here’s where we pick things up – freefall followed by a small revival thanks to an aging Batigol. As D-Ream once sang, things can only get better, right?
Well, it looks like it will have to, or Freddy will be pulling the trigger on my tenure as manager.
We’ll kick off with League Cup action and despite taking Leeds to extra time, as it’s always been written, an old boy comes back to instigate our nightmares. Ex-Cuban leader (Not Fray Bentos) tries his best but it’s not enough.
Make your mind up Freddy.
Still, we can concentrate on the league now….
Erik the Viking and the Space Cowboy inflict further pain on us.
Still, we manage to finish the job in the Ukraine to advance in Europe, which was nice.
Vitesse in the next round might be a harder test
If Arsene can get sacked, then I shouldn’t think about remortaging anytime soon.
That’s Andrew Campbell sinking us with a double by the way. Ruben Sosa Jnr had a chance to put us a head and we had nearly a whole half with a man advantage. When you’re shit, you’re shit.
Reality. Sort of.
Thats Gareth Farrelly knocking in a hat-trick with no reply. Give me strength.
Just like Man Utd a week ago, we give away a two goal lead at home in Europe. At least Mendez put his penalty away this time.
Yes, thats Andy Gray scoring the winner against us. Another day, another loss.
Yes, that is Dougie Freedman scoring against us. This save is mad. I’ve changing line-ups, formations, nothing seems to stick or spark these fools into life.
Freddy wonders about a rift in the dressing room, too many Latin ego’s rubbing against each other. I don’t have the answer it seems.
Ritchie Humphreys announces ‘I’m free’ at the back post late on and another defeat is served. We’re more bedraggled than Mrs Slocombe’s pussy…
Chris Perry takes pity on us and it’s a rare point at Selhurst Park.
From Chris Perry to Chuck Berry on the own goal front and life gives us some short releif in the magic of the FA Cup.
Thats a three nil loss to Bristol Rovers, not the Vidi-printer stuttering like Arkwright from Open All Hours. Danny Granville, fetch a cloth.
Reynoso is either Peruvian or from El Salvador – I forget which. Anyway, he’s a Jimmy Glass, Roy Essandoh type gamble, which isn’t really working. Everybody, if you can, do the Notman, shake your body, turn it out if you can man.
Can Reynoso be our Rey-naissance man?
Calm down, its’ only third division Shrewsbury. Still, a clean sheet against West Ham is nothing to be sniffed at.
Can I borrow a feeling?
De Souza, who I offloaded in the summer, returns, like Theo Walcott to ruin our day.
With that, we’re out of all cup competitions. I forgot to screenshot the return leg against Vitesse, but we lost 3-0 and are out.
Still, there’s always the league to play for…..
Lets finish on a brighter note and rare win, shall we?
So, where do these high jinks leave us? Stone cold last, is where.
5 points from safety and having played more games is not the upwardly mobile game plan Freddy had in mind when he went all Latin American. Please join me, if you dare, for next Saturdays exploits, where we’ll find out if the team survives relegation and I survive the P45.