"I
am not a number, I'm a free man," bellowed the
Prisoner. Greedy sod, he should have been grateful,
because Coventry City striker Paul Williams is remembered
in the tomes of football folly by just a solitary letter.
Yes, one blessed letter.
IN
THE SUMMERTIME, YOU'VE GOT FOOTBALL YOU'VE GOT FOOTBALL
ON YOUR MIND... MONDAY
5th MAY 2008
If
you support any side outside the Premier
League who have had an average season
or less, there's a fair chance you will,
like me, be sat there this morning wondering
what the hell to do with yourself.
The season is over. Finale. Completement.
This means a number of things - not least
the stark void of Saturday afternoons.
Yes, you've got sunshine and beer gardens,
but there's only so much cricket you can
sit through. Watching the Euros is a possibility,
but will only strengthen the feeling of
football inadequacy in these difficult
summer months.
Reminiscing over that glorious 1989/90
season is a no-no as you can't find any
bugger these days who owns a VHS player,
and surprisingly Setanta haven't yet bought
up the broadcast rights to the Australian
A-League season, so no joy there. (Give
it a year, eh?)
Holidaying is often a good
escape, but just as you're savouring the
architectural delight of a Greek monastery
somewhere high on Mount Athos, some lardy
family sporting Leicester City shirts
will hustle along bitching about trips
to Rochdale next season.
Were it not for work I'd be severely tempted
to apply for some sort of human hibernation.
Sod doing stuff in the name of Science,
I'd do it in the name of not being forced
to trudge around Marks & Spencers
being asked my opinions on some top that's
caught her eye in the feckin Per Una range.
