keresaspa: (Percy Sugden)
It's convention that I recount in some detail the events surrounding any journeys I make for the entertainment of the reading none so I suppose I shouldn't break from that tradition following my recent excursion to the occupied territory of Scotland. So without further Apu:

Edinburgh and environs )
keresaspa: (Cassidy says...)
I was probably about six years of age when I decided that I might start supporting Glasgow Celtic. As decisions went it was hardly the most radical one I ever made. In Northern Ireland the general rule is if you're a Taig you support Celtic, if you're a Prod you support Rangers. Both sides have their naysayers - be they those not interested in football, those not interested in Scottish football or those hardy few that support another Scottish club - and on both sides you get the very odd wind-up merchant who decides to support the opposite team as a piss-take (possibly the most notorious example being Glen Branagh, a member of the UDA's youth wing the UYM who died in rioting and was buried in a Celtic top). Nonetheless it tends to be what you would expect and so I fell into line as a youth, declaring myself a Celtic die-hard.

Down the years my fire began to dampen as I prioritised West Bromwich Albion, began equally looking for the results of Inverness Caledonian Thistle in the Scottish league, found myself rather seduced by Hearts after attending their match to the point that I wouldn't call myself a Celtic supporter at all. Still, I did have a good few years in which I would and yet in that time I never once visited the ground for a match (or indeed, any reason). Of course I saw a version of Celtic play Cliftonville two summers back but an actual visit to Parkhead? No.

Well strike a light as, despite no longer considering myself a supporter, it seems I'm going to go there after all. Later this month I'll be taking a post-birthday break in Edinburgh and it was my intention to take in a match whilst there. Alas and alack for the Hearts and Hibernian are both playing away that week, meaning a non-league tie between Edinburgh University and Hawick Royal Albert was to be my lot. "So be it" I thought, albeit considering it a tad tuppence-ha'penny until I chanced upon the website of Celtic, the opponents of Hearts on the Wednesday night. Given the disillusionment amongst Celtic support these days and the fact that it's only the League Cup tickets galore were to be had and so I decided to snap one up.

And there you have it. After years of being down in the mouth about never getting to go to Celtic I am to finally end up there long after I stopped caring. Still, I always like to get a match in when I'm away and that will be as good as any and I had intended to visit Glasgow for a day anyway. So, good show overall and a rare example of getting what one wants long after one has stopped wanting it. It's a funny old game, innit?
keresaspa: (Edwige Fenech)
It seems to be the pattern that when the gay Pride mob hold their parade in Belfast (you know what would be great - just one Saturday in Belfast without a bloody parade) I go to Solitude and so it proved today. It had been four months since I visited Solitude but today the call proved too strong as the might of The New Saints had pitched up in town for a sort of unofficial let's-decide-which-champion-is-the-best-of-the-British-Isles-two-crappiest-leagues showdown.

Of course the recent Champions League draw meant that Cliftonville will be eliminated at the first hurdle by Celtic and inevitably the Fenian half of the city has gone agog at the news, with black Oxford shoes being stuck into pawn shops from upper Ligoneil to Mount Eagles in the hope of affording a ticket. I briefly toyed with the idea of going myself but abandoned such notions for a number of reasons i.e. I'll only be back from London the night before it happens and won't fancy a schlep out to north Belfast, I'm committed to DC now, I haven't cared one way or the other about Celtic in years and the fact that they have bumped up their ticket prices from a tenner to thirty quid for the match is exploitation of the worst kind and I refuse to associate myself with it. General sale of tickets began (and ended) today however so I arrived to a massive queue with those of us simply wanting to see the present game herded into the away stand. Still, these days that's my place in Solitude and when The New Saints (awful name, but never mind) took to the pitch in green and white hooped shirts it was as if I was watching DC get stuck into Chickenville. If I squinted a bit.

For a match between two champions there was precious little quality on show but the Welsh champions (from England) had the best of it for the majority of the game. Cliftonville's passing game was frustrated by the harrying close attention of their opponents and they failed to trouble their opponents too much, although to be fair they weren't helped by their talisman Liam Boyce have a bit of a stinker. Cliftonville would probably be a mid-table side if everybody played like this against them but it won't happen as the teams here would be dead on their feet after an hour of that, unlike the super-fit Oswestry mob. Total Network Solutions (as they were and as I still call them by mistake all the time) took the win in the end after Cliftonville's keeper goofed up to allow a TNS man (didn't catch his name) to score.

And that was that. In the baking heat I still had to navigate my way through streets full of rainbow-toting revellers (no mean feat for a droopy drawers like myself who dislikes organised displays of enjoyment as much as he dislikes hot weather) but at least the football has - in a way - returned and I can stop dreaming up silly things to fill up each Saturday.
keresaspa: (Squidward losing it)
It being Saturday the mountains bent down and beckoned me to their side, meaning that it was time to return to the theatre of dreams that is Glen Road Heights to witness the titanic struggle between the noble and true Sport & Leisure Swifts and their nefarious foes, the malevolent Lurgan Celtic.

The Lurgan lot make DC look original in their shameless attempts to ape that shambolic mob from Glasgow. It's not just the horrendously unflattering green and white banded shirts that they wear but they even sport the very same badge. Try to have even a little of your own identity, chaps. From the kick-off Leisure looked an altogether better prospect than the old rubbish that had been so mercilessly humbled by the PSNI a fortnight ago. Lurgan Celtic were, inevitably, a clearly better side but the home boys gave it a go and maintained a decent shape throughout. About half an hour or so in Lurgan took a lead that, whilst hardly undeserved, was not a sign of any dominance on their part and even then it lasted all of a minute anyway as Leisure hit an equaliser almost immediately after the restart. Finally I can say I have witnessed those mugs actually score a bloody goal!

The culchies were mad for their number seven, whom they referred to constantly as "Buckshot", a mean-spirited and petulant little man whose diving would have rivalled that of Greg Louganis but who admittedly was probably the best player on show. As the game wore on "Jazzer" and "Fitz" also received the praise from the travelling several, although as they weren't talking about Jim Bett and Robbie Coltrane I can offer no more on those two. Admittedly, like myself, Robbie probably carries a stone or seven too much for the rigours of even the IFA Championship 2 but that didn't stop Lurgan's keeper from having a go, a man whose belly and man breasts bounced and jiggled hypnotically every time he trotted out to take a goal kick. And in other news - the pot calls the kettle black arse.

A while into the second half a penalty was awarded to Lurgan Celtic although, to quote Arsene Wenger's mantra of yesteryear, I didn't see the incident and so can offer no thoughts on whether or not the decision was correct. I think it was for a handball although I list track as a section of the Lurgan crowd (I say crowd, the entire game had about thirty people there, nearly all of whom were Armagh men) yelled "handball" practically every time a Leisure player got near the ball. Perhaps they were just fixated on the notion of hands and balls, who knows. Inevitably the penalty was converted, with penalty saves at this level about as likely as a sensible haircut on Donald Trump.

Surprisingly given my tendency towards a Niagara of sweat regardless of the weather, and the fact that it was a pleasant 16 degrees, the match was bloody cold and the atmosphere wasn't helped by the constant crackle of electricity travelling between the pylons that flank the ground. OK to play football in apparently but the sort of place where you might have to be prepared to meet the grim reaper if you brought a kite or a frisbee. Mind you it's difficult to go anywhere in west Belfast without being surrounded by searing, naked electricity pulsating forth from huge phallic Eiffel Tower-like contraptions so at least it is in keeping with the politico-cultural geography of the region. Still, I was able to kill my fears by partaking in a mini Soreen, consoling myself with the thought that a pocket sized version of the sainted malt loaf is perhaps the single greatest invention since the Bohemian ear spoon.

And so it continued. A Lurgan player got a very late red card for two fairly innocuous bookable offences but, despite some effort, Leisure just couldn't get any urgency going and the game ended in a 2-1 defeat. Overall this was a much improved performance by Leisure, even though the defeat left them adrift at the bottom of the table due to Killymoon Rangers managing a draw with my alma mater in Cookstown. Lurgan Celtic were only marginally better and there was some neat passing at times from Leisure, with the two full backs in particular looking a hard-running, progressive duo in the mould of Cafu and Roberto Carlos (well, almost). Up front however there are serious issues. The number nine puts himself about but his lack of height is a big problem for a level where hit and hope cloggers are the norm. The Irish League is far from the land of the giants but this diddy man is about five feet tall and gets smothered by centre backs. It also doesn't help that high balls keep getting launched at him when he has as much chance of winning the aerial duels as Andy Fordham has of winning Mr Tight Buns. His strike partner on the other hand is a much larger young man but is cursed with a timidity that holds him back so as he misses out on the ball far too often when he really should be asserting himself and dominating the penalty box. By the standards of this league he is big, strapping boy but he plays as if he's made of porcelain. With proper coaching they could form a half-decent big target man/little nippy centre forward partnership but at this level coaching is practically non-existent and so they seem destined to continue playing a pair of strangers who each seem to be playing the other man's natural game.

And is if that wasn't enough I arrived home to find that Albion have been thrashed by Fulham. Is that the sound of the bubble bursting for Coach Clarkey? I certainly hope not and obviously we were never going to stay in the top four for very long but let's hope it was a one-off off-day (a one-off-day if you will) as Fulham and Albion should be mid-table rivals, even with Berbatov in their side. The hard work starts here Clarke, so it's up to you to turn things around in the next game against Reading and build on your good start. Might I suggest returning Chris Brunt to the starting line-up tout suite in order to do so? Thank you.
keresaspa: (Piggy Banks)
Finally, at long last, we can put all the nonsense of people pretending to care about made-up rubbish like omnium and yngling and get back to the only sport that matters, football. OK, so there was allegedly football at the Olympics but any international football tournament that has the UK as a participant is clearly not worth the candle. The league is where it's at and as such I must now turn my attention to the coming season and do my usual load of waffle about how it won't pan out. Enjoy.

Read more... )
keresaspa: (Ray Meagher)
So Saturday, as I previously mentioned umpteen times, was the Fenian derby as Cliftonville played host to "Celtic". I place Celtic in inverted commas because, just as I anticipated, the team that turned out in green and white bore no resemblance to the one that will be winning the next several SPL titles as it was in fact Celtic's under-19 team. No sign of ginger whinger Neil Lennon as the first team was off drawing with Inter at Parkhead so it was left to fellow "strawberry blonde" Stephen Frail to boss the team. Perhaps as a consequence of this being common knowledge the ground was surprisingly less than full, although there was a decent sized crowd in. A group of diehards had come over from Glasgow and styled themselves after the ultras, chanting loudly and waving a huge flag styled after the Northern Soul logo, albeit was the legend being "Glasgow Celtic Keep the Faith" instead. Unfortunately the whole ultras styling didn't work because there were only about five of them and they were all middle-aged grey hairs squeezed into St Pauli t-shirts that didn't quite fit. They got a brief call and response chant going with a few in the old Cage End Stand (alas now all seat) but it petered out quickly, as did attempts by a lone drunk to howl made-up songs about various Cliftonville players, all of which were sang by him and no one else. One thing is for sure - supporters of republican-aligned teams in Belfast just don't care to sing. At kick-off one veteran did get a laugh when he bellowed his catchphrase "c'mon Reds let's get into this shite", despite wearing a Celtic drill top. Mind you forty minutes in when he said it the fifth time laughter had given way to "shut the f*ck up". One final note to the chaps in the Bowling Green End who got very boisterous in the second half - the Grecque or, as it is now erroneously called, "the Poznan", might look impressive when an entire stand of several thousand does it but when two rows of a single bank of seating turn their back and bounce up and down it just looks a bit silly.

As to the action on the pitch the teams were pretty evenly matched in the first half and the lack of any clear cut chances did rather raise the fear that I might finally be about to break my duck of never having seen a scoreless draw in the flesh. Half time saw the Cliftonville Ladies team come onto the pitch to receive their trophy for winning the women's league this season. Inevitably however, this being Belfast and all, the second the presentation started all hell broke loose as the sort of torrential rain that has defined this washout of a summer came on, soaking every woman Jill of them. Come the second half however and Cliftonville got off to a flier, with Robbie Thomson in the Celtic goal pulling off a number of great saves in a manner that suggests a good future in the game. Finally Liam Boyce, not long back from an abortive attempt to make it at Werder Bremen, struck a fine goal and it looked like the floodgates would open. Unfortunately for the Reds they failed to take advantage of their dominance and ended up behind after a sucker punch from Tony Watt before, after again spurning some good chances, falling behind to a sweet strike from Callum McGregor who ended a mazy run across the edge of the box with a great finish. With time almost up it looked like the chance had been blown until at about the 95th minute Cliftonville hit the post only for Joe Gormley to spring up and score on the rebound, ensuring a diplomatic draw that allowed all to go home happy. The Reds deserved at least a draw given their performance and look like they might give Linfield a run next season.

After the fun of Saturday, Sunday was spent trying that paint removal job again. Well, I got some of it done but suffice to say there is still a bunch to come off. I managed to lay my hands on a large bottle of jollop and it does ensure that a lot of the paint just floats off. Unfortunately however it doesn't give uniform removal so whilst big chunks come off others stubbornly refuse to budge and this is particularly true nearer the ground (something I am blaming on the damp). I finally lost interest at midnight and moved all but the heaviest of furniture back into place with probably two thirds of the paint off but still coverage on the entire wall (which now somewhat resembles a woad tattoo). I'll tackle it again soon but at the minute I can't be bothered and am slightly regretting starting the whole enterprise in the first place. I'll be glad to see the back of that hideous blue paint and its interminable stickiness but you know, effort and all that.
keresaspa: (Percy Sugden)


Guess who scored himself a ticket for the hottest show in town next Saturday? If you're a Taig, a Mick or a Fenian bastard, you better slip on your black Oxford shoes and matching leather jacket and get your arse in gear because you won't want to miss this. Well how many times do you get to watch a bunch of north Belfast no-marks getting a football lesson from the reserve team of the champions of Scotland for the next four years? When you have to get your ticket for a football match from a shopping centre in the Upper Falls you know you are entering Fenianland.

Still, it should be a good larf and I had actually thought that I missed the boat on this one but thankfully a bunch of tickets went on sale at the Kennedy Centre (the shopping centre close to Andytown, rather than the performing arts place in Washington DC or the rocket place in Florida) today and I managed to nab myself one. Rather amazingly it has been fourteen years since I attended a match at Solitude, my last trip being a friendly against a Barry Fry-led Peterborough United in the summer of '98, so it will be good, and a little strange, to get back to the old place and also to finally see Celtic in the flesh after being a half-arsed semi-supporter for pretty much all of my life. Proper job.
keresaspa: (Max Miller)
At last. For the good of the Premier League it was imperative that somebody other than Manchester United won the title this season as there is only so long you can keep interest going in a league that only one club wins (witness Donegal Celtic struggling to break three figures in their crowds in a competition that Linfield have won six times out of seven). After all if the same club wins every year what is the incentive for people who don't support that club to bother? Variety is the spice of life and Manchester City's win is still new enough to be welcome. So let's review.

Premiership 2011-12 Club by Club )

A satisfying finish all round for the most part. Nice one, City.
keresaspa: (Mister Magoo)
The Premier League is still to finish so I will deal with it as and when but I made my predictions at the start of the season so now that it is over I should loo at how close I was. So read on (which you won't) or off you go (which you will). My predictions are the table on the left, the real ones are those to the right.

hit it, guys )

So that's that then. Still the Premier League to go with Albion in with a shout of claiming a highly creditable tenth place as a great way to sign off before next season's relegation and I'm sure all right-thinking individuals will join me in hoping that Mancini can finally knock Ferguson off his perch and deliver the title to Eastlands. So come on City (until we all get sick of your dominance and sudden influx of glory hunters and start hating you as well in a few years).

Old infirm

Feb. 14th, 2012 08:59 pm
keresaspa: (Marlene Dietrich)
Imagine a world without Rangers - loyalists having to pretend to support Hearts, Dundee or Morton, Celtic supporters having to pretend to hate Partick Thistle or Queen's Park, Aberdeen supporters having to pretend to hate Caley Thistle, supporters of all the other teams having to get used to hating only Celtic. It just wouldn't seem right would it? What would half of the spides in Belfast wear for a start? What would become of all those tasteful Rangers doors and fences bolted onto to council houses? How would Cash Converters cope with the sudden influx of Rangers-branded sovereign rings, gold chains and the like? What about all the tattoos on pasty arms, chests and arse-cheeks of flabby men from Ballinamallard to Bottacks? Hasn't Andy Fordham suffered enough in his life? Doesn't bacon taste funny these days? Yes, now that Rangers have entered administration there really are more questions than answers.

Despite my perfunctory, superficial, part-time allegiance to the green and white half of the Old Firm I must say that I take no pleasure (well, maybe a little but not a lot) from the current predicament in which the Teds find themselves. Lisa Simpson had it right for just as Sherlock Holmes had his Dr. Moriarty, Mountain Dew has its Mellow Yellow (bit lost on this side of the pond, that one) and even Maggie has that baby with the one eyebrow, so too do Celtic need Rangers to coexist. God knows Scottish football has become a big enough afterthought in recent years but how much worse would that get if there was just one big club rather than two? Either somebody else would have to emerge to fill the void left by Rangers or Celtic themselves would slip back and the SPL would end up around the level of the Maltese League. Certainly there is no club in the rabble of filler teams that could get up anywhere near the level of Rangers any time in the next twenty years so decline and fall would be the only outcome. Admittedly it might make the SPL more competitive if Rangers died and Celtic fell away but equally it could have the reverse effect. It seems boring now with one of two clubs winning every year but imagine a league where Celtic win the title every year without fail as, even if they did decline, they would still be far ahead of the competition (who would lose two big pay days a season from when the Gers are in town and their ground fills up).

So save the Bears it is then. You know, we are often reminded about the "Ulster" connection where Rangers are concerned and they are nearly all supporters to a man so why don't the UDA just buy Rangers and be done with it? It would keep their beloved club afloat, provide a convenient location for the laundering of funny money and allow Jackie McDonald the opportunity to strut about in the manner of Ramzan Kadyrov. Problem solved - get it done.
keresaspa: (Percy Sugden)
A quick glimpse at Sky Sports News today told me something I had not realised - the football season starts again in Scotland on Saturday. That's right, the season starts on 23rd July. Good grief! It seems only yesterday that you had to wait until nigh on September for the season to start but now it's still high summer, despite the dodgy weather, and here it is. When do they intend to finish, February? It should be a fun season all things considered as Neil Lennon and Ally McCoist battle it out to see which of them is the least crap manager whilst the rest of them blow their best opportunity to win a title in years. My money's on Rangers personally as Lennon's mind will be distracted by receiving constant parcel bombs from the Orange Volunteers.

South of the border meanwhile it has been a worryingly quiet summer so far at the Hawthorns. So far all we have managed is two free transfers, one a 31-year old from Ipswich and the other who has just helped Preston into the Third Division. Meanwhile we have no keeper and are facing the very real prospect of having the hapless Boaz Myhill as number one next season after Shay Given decided that the rarefied airs of Villa Park were more to his taste. The only two names I have heard mentioned as being on the radar are Zoltan Gera and Owen Hargreaves and neither convince me. Gera was a stalwart at Albion and I was sorry to see him go but I can't see him getting much of a look-in with Odemwingie around (unless he's to be a replacement, but let's not go down that route). As for Hargreaves, he's overrated, constantly injured and would demand a king's ransom in wages so he can piss away off as far as I'm concerned. In Woy we twust of course but he needs to pull his finger out as we are starting to look a bit threadbare. Well it wouldn't be an Albion season if I didn't predict doom and gloom would it?
keresaspa: (Default)
I happened to chance upon the poster illustrated to the side on a bus shelter on the Cregagh Road yesterday. First of all, boo hoo, I missed a fun day out of 36th Ulster Division commemorating kick the pope shenanigans as the event advertised happened last Saturday. Woe is me on that score. My eye however was drawn to the legend at the bottom - "Everyone Welcome". Now come on! I'm sure there are a number of people who would be welcome but everyone - I doubt it very much. Let us assume that a gentleman of Palestinian extraction but born and raised in Poland turned up and brought with him his best mate who just happened to be Neil Lennon; would they be welcome? Welcome to a bloody good hiding maybe but that's about it. Perhaps if Johnny Adair decided to return to Belfast and make this event his first public appearance whilst also deciding that the prefect company for such a nice family day would be former Republican Sinn Fein President Ruairí Ó Brádaigh would they also be made welcome? You never know but I doubt it.

And one final point - the march apparently involved two grand UVF hostelries, going from the Park View bar on the Ravenhill to the Belvoir on the lower Newtownards Road. Well, last time I checked neither such boozer exists any more. The Belvoir bit the dust a couple of months back and now lies vacant with a threat from the local UVF scrawled on the front warning any lovely property developer thinking of buying and trashing said bar that it might prove more than his life is worth (shooting property developers - have the UVF finally found a useful purpose that we can all benefit from). The Park View meanwhile is still going strong but the sign above the door now reads the Continental with its former name confined to the dust. I think the least one should expect from something as prestigious as the UVF band is a bit of accuracy. Robin Jackson would be spinning in his grave if he knew.

And finally a plea to those of you who use Feedjit. Is it as borked for you as it is for me? It ignores most of my visitors now and also prevents me from accessing my live feed as the link here is dead. Just me or is everybody finding it banjaxed?
keresaspa: (West Bromwich Albion)
So that's more or less it for another football season, barring a couple of play-offs. And what a funny old season it was. In the end the same old team won it but everything else was somewhat on the topsy-turvy side. Let's review:

Reflections on the Revolution in Sandwell and other stories )

So that's it for another season and with no prospect of anything in the summer given that the year ends in an odd number all I can say is roll on August.
keresaspa: (Default)
Shame on Finland falling for the cheap, populist, hate-filled rhetoric of the True Finns. As much as I detest the old school extreme right at least you know where you are with them. The sort of balls-out, supposedly grass roots, Israel-loving nationalist crap espoused by the likes of these snotbags, Geert Wilders or the Tea Party tossers really gets my goat as it is so two-faced pretending on the one hand to be respectable but throwing about the same old anti-everything rhetoric and presenting it as "common sense". I'm certainly not a big fan of the European Union but to fall back on the same old right-wing nationalist arguments to oppose it is tired to say the least. Another victory for the no-goodniks and I'm sure Tony Halme is enjoying a smile to himself in Hell.

Elsewhere it seems that the goons looking to bugger up Scottish football even further by cutting the SPL to ten teams again apparently want to add a British League Cup to the mix. A winning formula there, I don't think. Fair enough certain inhabitants of Old Trafford and Goodison Park might get a kick out of playing Celtic and Stamford Bridge would no doubt be full to capacity if Rangers were in town but on a rainy October night Wigan Athletic v St Johnstone or St Mirren v Wolves would probably struggle to get four figures much less a packed house. Besides whilst the Old Firm, with their delusions of playing in England, might get to feel like big boys I really can't see what English teams would get from playing against the other jobbing sides many of whom would struggle in the third division. Interesting to note, of course, that in the three one-off attempts at this already contested (the British League Cup, the Empire Exhibition Trophy and the Coronation Cup) Celtic triumphed every time. It is equally interesting to note that in the last ever instalment of the Anglo-Scottish Cup Rangers suffered a 3-0 hammering at that hotbed of football excellence Saltergate. Yup, Old Firm allegiances die hard. And above all just what is the problem with the current 12 members of the SPL plus Dunfermline Athletic, Raith Rovers, Falkirk, Dundee, Partick Thistle and Livingston playing each other twice a season with two or three promoted and relegated annually? Too sensible, perhaps?

And finally a video for you all to enjoy. I caught it recently on some show presented by that annoying David Walliams character in which he took the opportunity to sneer at well-meaning people who happened to use different terminology in the past. How admirable of a 39 year old man to find it amusing that children have learning difficulties and that people want to help them. He apparently thought it funny but for me only one conclusion could be drawn - wasn't Barbra Streisand a fine piece of womanhood in her day? Good Lord, she's practically smouldering there. Yes, I am a sick man.
keresaspa: (Fran Drescher)
Transfer deadline day so a late one, although in fairness there was sod all for Albion. Carlos Vela of course arrived the other day but I'm not sure he is what a struggling team needs. Another defender or two would have been nice but too late now.

Still in amongst all the hubbub over Fernando Torres and the ridiculously overhyped Andy Carroll and Charlie Adam (a few good games should not suddenly push people into the eight figures territory) it was good to see a marriage made in heaven finally happening with El Hadji Diouf joining Rangers. If ever a man was made for a club it was Diouf for the Teds and I expect him to join the hallowed ranks of Roberts, Butcher, Goram, Ferguson, Albertz and Novo in the all-time Rangers bastard hall of fame. I now have visions of him scoring the winning goal in the Old Firm game, gobbing on every fan individually and Celtic being hit with a fine for daring to obstruct his saliva. Well, it was bound to happen eventually.
keresaspa: (Gus Goose)
All over bar the play-off shouting in the football season and a mixed bag overall. There was good stuff and bad stuff and as such I would like to take this opportunity to reflect on what has gone on. So if you don't like football see you later.

Season review )

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