Since its grand opening, I have nattered endlessly about visiting Sharpy’s Fine Fish and Chip Establishment (Est. 2012), but never made arrangements to visit until last night. However, I would be made to pay for my lack of preparation, as some of you might already have guessed. But don’t ruin the story for the remaining…
What with inflation due to the amount of two pence pieces lost behind sofas, there isn’t an awful lot of quality product five quid can buy you in this day and age. You could invest in 254 shares of my ailing stock market project, JWAWDAQ, or perhaps a six hundredth of a Vauxhall Corsa. Without…
Catch up on housework, lick a few stamps, iron the odd handkerchief – Thursdays used to be so incredibly boring. But for one year only*, we are blessed with more midweek football than one can feasibly keep track of without a Filofax. Thank goodness I don’t have to retrieve the ironing board from the attic…
Please excuse me if I seem a tad cranky today as I am not used to getting up before noon for the sake of a football match, even if this particular contest *was* taking place in the Fish and Chip Capital of the North. No amount of battered pollock (the cod quotas were exhausted, allegedly)…
At some point this afternoon, the subject of excitable commentators became relevant. When it comes to Wigan Athletic, you can’t have such a conversation without wondering where the man with the perpetually lost voice, Matt McCann, might be today. Someone suggested he was last seen in a back office job at Liverpool, which is a…
The older generation often speak of games that live long in their memory, untinged by the passage of years. The younger generation generally speak of Big Brother, but we’re not here to offer damning indictments of society, at least not today. In the spirit of the very manager that guided Wigan to this competition, I…
What’s this, a 3pm Saturday kickoff? I haven’t seen one of those since the TV-less bad old days of shin-splitting leather balls and sellotape crossbars. Yes, such things did exist long before employers were shelling out £77million for someone to sit on a centrally heated glorified car seat to watch other, more expensive players lose…
Trudging over the bridge to the ticket office on Monday, I happened across a squadron of motorcyclists whizzing between some traffic cones strewn haphazardly across the overflow car park. Disgusted at this blatant misuse of club property, I shouted ‘learn to drive!’ in nobody’s general direction. The response was swift and cutting: “we *are* learning…
Now, I know what you shall think as you peruse Shoot Magazine‘s results section, chocolate biscuit in hand, and spot this afternoon’s scoreline: “A simple win for the FA Cup winners and Europa League contenders, and a second consecutive clean sheet to boot”. I know *I* would if I hadn’t seen it unfold with my…
Those expecting me to cart out the jokes will be sorely disappointed, since the only mildly humorous thing to originate from Belgium is Jean Claude Van Damme. And most would vigorously contest that potentially offensive statement. Not to worry, for there is surely a veritable goldmine of humour in Zulte Waregem… whom I hadn’t heard…
Greetings, o traveller! I see you survived your long and arduous journey to the Realm of the King on this fine afternoon. You are indeed courageous, yet at the same time foolish, for though we provide ample amenities (which sadly no longer include free Walkers crisps), our dedicated team of trained swordsmen shall see to…
Phew, third home game in a row. I haven’t even had to change out of my slippers for two weeks – you’d think it was my birthday or something. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention it *was* my birthday recently, so that decidedly weak attempt at ‘humour’ probably won’t make any sense to you whatsoever….