Pffft, why not likely! Topsy Turvy by name and Topsy Turvy by nature. Although comparing the goings on at SJP to the famous children’s story and character seems a bit daft, it’s not any more flipping daft than the truth itself!
So grab the Christmas sherry, stick on a paper hat and swig your way through the whole festive period knowing that you have no idea what is coming!
They say ignorance is bliss! Well enough of the Bristol cream and it’ll be “who knows, who cares?!”
In one million attempts to come up with a script for the season, not many will have scribbled the tale as it has unfolded so far. Positive displays on the field, but more over – players who had been written off as goners, rising from the dead to take leading roles.
Aye, topsy turvy all right. Nobody would have complained if the carthorse labelled pairing of Shola and Big Mike had been sent to the knackers yard. Not S*nderl*nd, but the place where they boil down old nags into pedigree chum, super glue and supermarket lasagne’s – allegedly.
Instead of the dreaded trip to the abattoir the pair have not only escaped the executioners axe but also appear to have been transformed into two of the greatest players ever seen!
Big Ammer’s is playing like a man possessed, come to think of it – so is Mike. Shola on current form is reminiscent of the original Ronaldo on steroids, alas without the goals. Or even should I say goal? You know what to ask for Christmas Shola!? Willo has been heading and kicking everything like his life depends on it, good old fashioned hack, head, hoof. Hey it’s all about the mix!
Perhaps they have sold their souls to the devil? Already on his pay role, there is always that possibility! To be honest I couldn’t give a toss if they have joined the occult and bite the heads off bats as part of their pre match routine – as long as they keep sticking shifts in. Shola has been around since we were formed in 1892, so it is about time he hit a bit of form! Couldn’t hit a cows arse with a banjo bless him, but he has started trapping that ball and finding his fellow players thus far, something which eluded him over the years. He has been a good foil for Warwick Remy.
I don’t subscribe to the current national love in mind, and the MoM awards have sometimes been a little hasty, but the big fella has played well – so hands up – fair play lad. Keep it up.
Uncle Pards has played himself and his team back into contention after an absolutely disastrous 12 months that saw him dangling from Premier League Managers Job rock by wedging his newly veneered pearly whites into a crevice. He had to use his teeth as our very own Jolly fat man at the helm has ensured his hands have been tied behind his back from the outset.
Will he release those shackles as part of festive cheer and allow him some money to splash in the Christmas sales? Pffft, probably not. Too much common sense.
The season started pretty shitty. But confidence and performance levels have grown by the week. The formerly struggling playing staff have somehow mustered up some form that eluded the same motley crew last year. Maybe it’s the holy grail of playing your way into the World Cup? Maybe it’s the whole not in Europe chestnut? Maybe it’s another year settled and gelling? Maybe it’s the top ten only Brucie Bonus waving from the distance and relative safety of Mikes vault?
Maybe, just maybe whilst we have a bit of form we could speculate to accumulate and improve the squad again – push for a strong finish? Hmmm, maybe I have cracked this sherry open too early!
Whilst the team has pacified most with 3 point hauls a plenty, I still have the uneasy feeling of the club having zero direction or clue.
Are we going to wake up suddenly from peaceful sleep like Indiana Jones and side-kick Short-Round in the Temple of Doom, to find out that there is nobody flying the plane and its heading for a mountain side? NO MORE PARACHUTES! That could just be me! You might not get the reference or the analogy, but I feel the club is rudderless. The hierarchy ruddy-useless.
Let us see if Ash and JFK can restore some faith. After all nothing is ever terminal, just look at Sholes and Willo – even Pardew. Football is fickle, so much of the brown and sticky stuff has flown about that you would think it impossible for them to sway the public opinion in their favour – apart from the few resident mentalists who are already flying the regime flag. Not so. They could easily swing opinion, if Ash pushes the boat out and gives his henchman a decent budget, and good old Joe manages to drag some big hitters over the line – who knows?
I tell you what, this second bottle of Sherry has definitely gone to my head now!
Whats next? Obertan for the Ballon D’or? Whey aye!!
Far more likely seeing Gabby falling out the Balloon Door (pub), Silver Lonnen!
We support the famous black and whites – it’s either one or the other on the pitch – great or grim. Probably the way it will always be.
For seeing us win 4 on the spin and in reasonably good nick, including winning at the ‘Theatre of Screams’ for the first time in 41 years (let us hope it’s not 2054 before we are cheering once more!) – we could just as easily watch us slip to losing four on the bounce, having already fallen to the worst team in the league (SMB’s anybody?).
More up and down than a woman of the nights peek-a-boo drawers.
After last year we just need to keep counting those points up to 40, after that let’s see what happens?
Predictions for the New Year? It’ll be cold. That’s about as much as you can guarantee! After that I have one Christmas wish to make – although it’s probably bad luck to say it, don’t want to hex it.
Will give you a clue. It rhymes with ‘Hackems to be delegated’ please Santa.
Enjoy the festive period and all everything the Toon throws at you.
Eat, drink, be merry and above all – keep smiling!