Alive. Just.

Wow. Sorry about the silence folks. Between Christmas, New Year, family, work and a brutal marathon training schedule, it’s just been too mental.

That’s a lie. I mean, all of the above are genuine you understand, but the REAL reason for my shocking levels of contribution to the blogging world is that someone told me you could buy Champo (Football Manager 2012 actually, but it will ALWAYS be Champo) as an iPhone app’ and I’ve been playing it solidly for a week. There are some that would argue that this is the most futile of all pursuits, but I’d then point those same people in the direction of my UEFA and FA Cup double and 6^th placed Premier League finish… with Leyton Orient, and those same people would no doubt bow down before me and claim that they know nothing about life and consult me as an oracle in all future matters. Oh man, I need to delete that game.

It’s been a while since I engaged with real football, but I vaguely remember saying I’d be happy with 4 points from the Norwich and Swansea games. It was then re-qualified to be happy, as long as we beat the Brom. We done it all. That, coupled with a set of bizarre results elsewhere upon our Sceptered Isle, has further cemented our place in the nosebleed section of the table. The oft’ cited and almost mythical game in hand against Everton is next up for our troops in the league, and chance again to heap further misery on the parasites waiting for us to crash and burn.

Harry’s been saying that we won’t be investing in bodies, and that only a ‘special’ player suddenly becoming available will tempt Danny Boy to open the Tottenham chequebook. Ronaldo? Rooney? Soldado? It’s a nice idea, but essentially meaningless, because ‘special’ players very rarely move in January. Bodies move in January. Harry’ll know that we probably need another DC, and probably an AM R/L, maybe a DM C on loan (seriously, must get rid) if we are to absorb the whacks we’re bound to sustain in the second half of the season, and the job lot of Samba/Hoillett in the Blackburn fire sale would seem to fit the bill. The convenience or truth of this talk will surface at around one minute to deadline.

F.A. Cup magic returns to the Lane this weekend. Not for me though, I won’t be there, because Tottenham decided to issue me with a ticket in another part of the ground, what with the cup allocation rules 'n' all, and sat me on my own away from Flymo and all the others we usually sit amongst. Munro’s got my ticket, and he doesn’t mind sitting on his tod, so it’s all worked out nicely. Besides, I’ve got wedding photos to be sorting through (slash) trying to win the league with The O’s.

Laters (on)