Contrary to popular belief, I am not dead. I have no good reason for the lack of blogs over the last week. It’s not like I didn’t have anything worth blogging about :o)
I could have mentioned the conker fight I had at work. I could have talked about the daddy long legs which have invaded my house and place of work and how when they get trapped in a room and die days later, their life was meaningless. Alas I didn’t, and those stories will never be revealed.
Today I went to watch Bath City play some “quality” non-league football. The weather was crap and by the time me and my friend Owen reached the ground, we were soaked.
The opposition was Merthyr Tydfil who had travelled to Bath for The FA Cup 2nd Qualifying Round, no doubt the first of many steps in Bath’s journey to the final in May. I haven’t a clue who Merthyr Tydfil are or even how to pronounce their name. All I know is that they come from Wales and don’t have many fans. .
Behind me die hard City fans, mostly men in their 60’s, would yell profanities at the players and the linesman or “lino”. They would moan to each other about how shit their beloved team was playing and how they would “never again” come back. The thing is, they will be back next week and moan just as badly again.
The game finished 0-0. I am yet to see Bath score.
After today I’ll never slag off Leeds United again. I am also refusing to comment on Leeds’ 4-2 defeat at the hands of 10 man West Brom. Grrr.
Twerton Park. A top European ground
Bath City. A top European side
The Merthyr Tydfil faithful. The whole town came along.
What a difference a change of management makes. This time last week, Leeds were under old boss Kevin Blackwell and couldn’t score to save their lives, let alone get a result. A week later, Blackie has been sacked and Leeds play their best game since they were relegated, beating Birmingham City, a team joint top of The Championship.
Hopefully this is a sign of things to come and not just a honeymoon period that a lot of new managers experience. I don’t want to get carried away, but if Leeds play like that well every week, The Premier League will become a distinct possibility.
Massive, massive, massive c**ts! Sky, Orange and City Link, be prepared for a jolly good telling off!
Sky. Last week we signed up to their broadband service. It was installed a week late. Since then the service has been either dead or unbearably slow. I’ve been without a connection for the last 48 hours and have had to access the internet from borrowed access points, work and my mobile phone. We were promised that we would be called today with an explanation. There has been no call.
Orange. Signed up for a contract early July. Was told that I would have 3 months free access to Orange World (the mobile internet service). Get my September bill only to find that I’ve been charged for data. Orange helpline tell me that the offer was only for 2 months and if I have any further issues, I must take them up with the shop who gave me the contract – it was a fucking Orange shop! They basically told me to piss off. The Orange shop in Bath do not pick up the phone or respond to my answer phone messages.
City Link. Ordered some DVDRs off the internet two weeks ago, they’re still yet to turn up. Apparently City Link tried to deliver them last Tuesday and I was out. No card was posted through my door, so how the fuck would I know they had been? I was promised they would come this Wednesday and card me if I was out. It is now Thursday and I have no DVDRs and no card.
So, in summary, SKY, ORANGE and CITY LINK are shit and run by massive c**ts.
Kevin Blackwell’s reign of terror is over. The tactically inept blubbering fool has left Leeds United. The White’s can now begin their season, crawl out of the relegation zone and win promotion to The Premier League.
Despite the poor run of results, I would like to thank Blackwell for the previous two seasons, for helping to stabilise the club and for taking us to the Millennium Stadium. Just a shame it went wrong from then on.
The only thing to do now is find a new manager. Lots of names have been thrown about and I will be putting my name forward to manage the club. Based upon what Blackwell knew, I am sure that I am in with a chance of being appointed.
My past achievements include winning the league on Fifa Soccer 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005 and 2006 as well as leading England to World Cup Glory on Fifa Road to World Cup.
If I am unsuccessfully in my application, I will stick with my current occupation and hope that Alan Curbishley gets the Leeds job.
The majority of my time at work today was spent browsing the internet. Searching NewsNow, the BBC and Sky Sports websites for news on, what I believed to be, Kevin Blackwell’s imminent sacking.
As the hours dragged on and nothing was announced, I became more and more frustrated and depressed, thinking to myself “when will this sack of shit leave?” What more does Blackwell need to do to get booted out of Elland Road? Kill a fan? Perform “surprise sex” on Ken Bates’ anus?
I am now starting to worry for my mental health. Since this shit season begun last month, I have spent hours of the day and night going over in my head about Blackwell. I have written over 1,000 posts on the internet forum WACCOE, slagging him off. I have whinged to friends and colleagues about him.
I need to let it go. Sadly, as much as I would like to, I cannot see that happening until I see this on the BBC Sport website …
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Leeds United manager Kevin Blackwell has left the club.
More to follow… |
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
