Three stories this afternoon, and rather than do them all separately I thought I would lump them altogether in one go. I’m sure those of you who are sick of seeing me on your timelines will have no objection to that at all!
Today was turgid stuff. We played against a team that had their full side behind the ball for almost the whole game, on a bloody plastic pitch. There was no pressure on Albion to perform, which is just as well as they didn’t leave their own half; all the scrutiny was on us, and we did a professional job which at times was bloody boring to watch.
And I was thinking during it; this is why the guys who are off fighting in warzones don’t look forward to the return of their comrades who’ve been off on R&R. Spend enough time in the trenches and your mind is sharp for every noise, every movement, every whisper in the grass. You get hardened to battle. But all that is eroded when you get a week away, a week of soft sheets, hot meals and cold beer. You come back having lost that edge.
That was part of the problem today.
The team left for Dubai having been through two months of non-stop warfare. And they had endured and won the victories, so they were entitled to the holiday. But this was always going to be one of those days. From the heat and relaxation on those sandy beaches, this afternoon they were back in the biting cold, with a typical Scottish football synthetic surface under their feet. We were never going to see beautiful football.
Which is why it’s such a curiosity than from a couple of players today we did see exactly that. One of them was Patrick Roberts when he came on; he set up the second with a quite brilliant run. If it’s true and we’re negotiating with City to keep him for another year then let the joy be unsurpassed and the trumpets blare and the flags wave. Because that would be superb.
But the show belonged to Scott Sinclair, who was brilliant throughout and scored an audacious piece that we’ll be watching in replays for years. He was head and shoulders above every other player on the park today. He was a joy to watch.
On a day when more garbage headlines suggest that our CEO is some sort of godfather figure (shamelessly I will suggest you check our ReLoaded’s piece on Carlo Gambino haha) it’s perhaps fitting that Sinclair had such a stormer. Because he’s one of the players of the season and we secured him for a song.
Lawwell really did a number on Villa there. He must have negotiated that deal with a cadre of guys carrying AK-47’s. To have gone to a club in England and got such a gem at such a price – particularly considering his transfer history beforehand – it’s pure robbery.
It’s an amazing piece of business, the steal of the century.
The game itself was followed by the cup draw and at the moment Rod Stewart pulled our team out of the bag, at home, with only three other clubs left, every Sevconian in the country must have been as white as a ghost. I never expected to get them, but for just a second it looked as if we would.
It passed quickly, a lucky escape alright.
But it’s a temporary reprieve.
If Morton don’t put them away we’ll be waiting a little further on down the road.
They can run, but ultimately they cannot hide.
Warburton knows the day of judgement hasn’t been cancelled, only delayed.
If someone doesn’t take care of them first, we will be the ones who cash in his chips and sent him back to England with his magic hat stuffed up his backside.