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

Coffin Blues*

Well, the casket is either going to be sealed shut with the Superman's superglue or may be lifted open cautiously with Indiana Jones-wide eyes at the stagnant treasure within. Peter Taylor has now been sacked, with no real surprise given our utterly risible start to the season. News on it here. We haven't had a long relationship with a manager for a long time, since Lawrie Sanchez really, so it's unlikely the next one will really excel, but we live in hope for the next Martin O'Neill to whip us into shape...

*Coffin Blues by Ida Cox

Match Of Ze Day

I've been performing in France for a few days, meaning my first weekend sans MOTD this season. But lo! I switched on Canal+ in my hotel room on Saturday night post-gig to the familiar hubbub of fans and pundits, albeit in locquacious, hand-waving francais. I had just missed, and I kid you not, 'Match of Ze Day' (which hopefully featured Gari Linequeur et les Alains 'Ansen et Sheareur being very rude to each other and discussing le foot whilst eating some terribly rich Coquilles St. Jacques), but caught some of the following 'Jour de Foot', a round-up of all the French professional leagues. Unlike the boorish and clunky English language, where the longest sentence ever used on MOTD is when Alan H gets carried away with his description of superior teams ('they've got pace, spirit, strength, depth, passion, power, wit, grace, a set of fine teeth, a glossy coat', etc), en francais everything commentated or discussed sounds utterly artistic and creative. So to my untrained ear the pundits waxed rhapsodical about the striker rising up like a beautiful flower, tender-petalled, from the first summer rains, when they were probably arguing about whether he was offside or not.

Alors, some minor prizes:

Kit Of Ze Day: The emerald-clad St. Etienne, looking like Gallic leprechauns, shimmering away as they trounced Bordeaux. Which makes me wonder: why is green so shunned as a colour in England? Apart from the obvious potential of pitch/shirt clash, I'm sure some could get away with a zesty lime or deep bottle-green... Runner-up: the Havre AC goalie, who was kitted out entirely in brazen pink.

Most Aesthetically-Pleasing Player of Ze Day: All of the players with Arabic heritage, simply because they were noticeable in their presence. Also, the Bordeaux keeper revealed a fetching tattoo on his front upper thigh when he hitched up his shorts during a set-piece...

Quote of Ze Day: 'C'est un penalty!' purely because that was the only full sentence I understood.

Total new French words learnt: 2. But = goal Cadre = team.

SHIRTWATCH is away this week, due to inherent French lack of ability to turn up in a displeasing shirt/trouser combo.

P.S. WWFC lost twice more this week. Less a sinking stone than a particularly hard-working tilefish.*

* Tilefish, def: a 3-foot fish which burrows and excavates the ocean floor to protect itself from hammerhead sharks.**

**Also known as Leeds United.