Posted on Thursday, 11th November 2010 by lordofthewing
In life – and as you get older – you learn by your mistakes. Like that time you took the short cut home from the pub, which see’s you end up walking down a dark muddy track, falling into a puddle then trailing dirt all over your house, costing £150 to get the carpets cleaned, you learn not to do it again.
You wouldn’t do it four times and hope each time that your not going to fall into that puddle. Braga, FC Utrecth, R*ngers and Hearts Lennon has took the Mowbray blueprint, 4-2-4, and attempted to make it work. It has failed each time. I want Johan to eat that blueprint in front of Lennon. Our we need Martin O’Neill to phone Lennon and go: “Neil, 4-2-4, against better teams doesn’t work.” then hang up the phone.
Lennon needs to stop this tactical version of formation garden giant jenga and get on program in any game that can be termed ‘quite difficult’. We are not good enough. We are moving along nicely, the team will learn that we will face teams who beating us in their backyard is as close as they’ll ever get to winning a cup final. Last night Hearts had their highlight of the end of season DVD.
Going to Tynecastle was always going to be difficult. It’s the Fight Club of the SPL. Recognising who is playing for Hearts is like trying to guess members of the Wu Tang Clan. They are all big, ugly and probably arrived in crates from Lithuania marked: “Property Of Vlad“. Some are ugly and more noticeable than most.
Rudi Skacel was last seen when George Burley was not a drunk gimp. His returned to Hearts because Vlad has pictures of him and some farm animals not because he is any good anymore. Kyle is a lump there to foul in the hope that they get a lenient MIB. I have seen lampost move more in a medium sized storm. Ian Black? Rodent. And for a support that seems to have a fascination with paedophilia they have Craig Thomson who loves exposing himself to 15 year old girls. The dirty schemie.
So how come we were treated to the sight of Jim Jeffries – more Greyfriars Jobby than Bobby – looking like a senile old goat who had stumbled into a gay wedding? Well, we were frankly terrible and made the wrong team selection.
Samaras was brought in to, seemingly, add height and presence to the front-line. The Greek has all the presence of a biro trying to stop traffic. How many times is he going to let us down? The urge to torture him by cutting off his hair with a rusty knife while attaching electrodes to his gonads started in the first minute and lasted to the last. I was screaming: “Send the useless cock f*cker off” after he attempted to dupe us into thinking he cared with a lunging tackle with 5 minutes left.
Our passing was sh*t all night. Over hit, under hit, soft, hard, f*cking launched towards Murrayfield. Our substitutions added to the chaos with a right back and a winger coming on for a right back and a winger with a gaping hole left in the middle of the park, which was rather hopefully attempted to be filled by a hobbit that is dwarfed by the captains armband, after Ledley was sent off.
The sending off was described as a “two footed lunge” by Craig Burley. The obnoxious c*ck didn’t need Viagra last night to get excited but he must have been sniffing glue if that was a two footed lunge. It was a lunge but with one leg. The other leg was trailing behind like a wean being dragged round the shops. A booking would have been harsh. To put it in context, Jos Hoovield – the worst thing from Sweden since Ikea – slipped and when he was trying to recover – looking like a goldfish that had jumped out it’s bowl – he put in a straight leg over the ball challenge that caught the Hearts player above the shin.
That was a sending off.
Would the penalty have made a difference? Who really cares lets just marvel that Ryan Stevenson’s tattoos can camouflage him fore-arming the ball away. The linesman just saw a tribal flash and the MIB asked him where he got them done as he wants : “I love Hugh” tattooed on his ar$e.
Did I mention our set plays were sh*t again?
St Midden on Sunday. Stokes up front and no 4-2-4 or I’m sending in the Wombles.
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