By the way, this beef about knowing a mystery footballer is very strong stuff and is the kind of thing that keeps me stalking the board.
I had lunch with Cliff Holton, not recently for obvious reasons! "Going insane, laughing at the frozen rain..."
I once saw Stevie Palmer coming out of an Italian restaurant in Hemel And Nordin Wooter in the Harlequin
I hate the hungry horse. Full of unwashed Asda dwellers and their offspring queuing up to order too much fried food.
They got a name for the winners in the world I want a name when I lose They call Burnley FC the Claret Tide
If that's the place that used to be the Red House in Croxley, it seemed to me to sell itself on huge plates the size of a wagon wheel (not the chocolate biscuit) but with normal portions of food, except loads of peas. This was about 10 years ago, admittedly.
If he plays it well, he could still pull it off (insert Carry On guy here) Book the table for 15 minutes before KO. Make sure you sit the side where you see the TV and she can’t. The emotions from the match can coincide nicely with how the evenings going. Menu arrives at the same time as the team sheet on the TV - your smile at what looks a fairly decent starting 11 matches the fact that your favourite meal is on the menu. You’re upbeat and chatty because we’ve started well and you’ve got that ridiculous optimistic feeling going on. But your wife just thinks you’re enjoying your starter and her reminiscing about your wedding day. Hiding your disappointment at Burnley’s first goal could be tricky, but fingers crossed your main has arrived and you can just claim your chickens a little dry. If your wife suggests letting the waiter know, you look up at the screen, shake your head and say “that’s not going to make any difference “ as you watch Slav make his first sub. Hold your nerve and let your desert sit there as you engage in some loving small talk - unbelievably we equalise so you take a quick mouthful and celebrate with “get in there! You little beauty!” Your wife may reply “I take it that was good?” To which you’ll reply “bloody brilliant “ as the replay gets shown. The inevitable Burnley winner comes around the end of the match and the meal. You’ll look distraught, but your wife will think it’s because she’s just announced that as lovely a night she’s just had, unfortunately nothing can happen when you get home.
There's no record too small, no record too obscure that Watford can't help another team achieve. Perfect opposition.
Our misfits are due their 1 in 15 matches decent performance, and, if my maths are correct, this is it. I will have 6-8 pints of strong northern ale swilling round my gut come kick off, and it's going to be glorious. Easily one of the best overnight aways of the season. I revel in the abuse the grotesquely overweight balding thugs will hurl my way for being from the affluent south, and that's just the broads I will be throwing the lips on at 1AM. Halcyon days.
I’d imagine the sort of broads you can find on a Tuesday night in Burnley, on Valentine’s Day at 1am will be a sight to behold.
Just to give us all a small confidence boost - remember we won 7-4 at Burnley once. We may well see seven goals again tomorrow night.
I did as it goes so thanks! I am off work though so toughest thing I’ve had to do today is decide what I wanted to eat for lunch.
I’ll take my chicken with the beak on the side, you’re always making me eat it first and I want to eat it last if I’m going to have to eat it at all.
Do you remember when Liverpool came to Watford having not lost a match in living memory? I'll think of that match tomorrow evening to take my mind off what I'm watching on the telly.
