Sucking heartily on life's half-time oranges

Thursday, 22 October 2009

Cemetery Blues*

Being an international woman of musical mystery, I've been in and out and all over the country of late, thoroughly missing ALL important news of the football-related variety, including two England games passing me by (though Andy filled me in on all essential details. Namely that David Beckham had a BEARD).

Moreover, I had to see via Guardian links on my phone from various brothers and husbands the key news rocking Wycombe to its roots... that Peter Taylor and the club 'parted company' (what does that MEAN? Did he leave of his own accord or did the board say, hand on shoulder, 'it's not you, it's me' before pushing him gently out into the night?). Well, for whatever reason, we need a bleedin' shake-up, and so they've brought in, for once, someone I've never heard of, Gary Waddock from League Two's Aldershot. I like the fact that his name mixes both Waddle and Ruddock, and thus am expecting a hard-as-nails bruiser who likes singing Top 20 duets, possibly with both a boxer's nose and a fetchingly girlish mullet. Ha. He looks like a bit of a wide boy to me, but I don't care as long as he gets us out of the grave we are currently digging for ourselves like suicidal Yoriks. We have now hit the dirt at the bottom of the League, even though we drew against those horrible fuckers of Colchester (our dearest rivals due to Conference tussles back in the early '90s)'. Scott Shearer, our keeper, made a howler as loud as twenty bloody lonely wolves by stopping a ball and then seeming to forget WHO HE WAS OR WHERE HE WAS OR ANYTHING, possibly lost in thought about whether HE could sport a beard as fulsome as David Beckham's, whilst a surprised but happy striker who was strolling up to him gently took it off him. Erk!

*'Cemetery Blues' by Lightnin' Hopkins

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