SEASON 24/25 PREMIER LEAGUE MATCH REPORTS AND STUFF
premier league game 1 august 17th 2024
Nottingham Forest 1
Wood 23
AFC Muffs 1 Semenyo 86
DON'T PANIC UNTIL IT BECOMES NECESSARY
Nobody knows what will happen in a football match. Old Uncle Boff used to tell the story of how his team, the Carlton Stoppers, were expecting a right drubbing against league leaders Edwinstowe Welfare. After 2 minutes of incessant Edwinstowe pressure, several sink holes opened up in the pitch and swallowed the entire Edwinstowe side. Remarkably, the Stoppers were untouched, and awarded the win by default.
Nobody knows what will happen in a football match. Acceptance of this principle implies certain things. It confirms the idea that predictions are pointless, possibly the most pointless activity in human history, except for punditry. Predictions are simply a way of trying to energise a meaningless existence. Pundits are just parasites, and almost always leave the world a poorer place than it was before they opened their stupid gobs.
So we approached the beginning of another Premier League season bravely pretending that this time things were sure to get better but dreading that sink holes might open up on that beautiful pitch.
It didn't take long for the Uncertainty Principle to take effect. The mood was positive. Mister Sosa was introduced. Taiwo was on the bench. The Muffs' kit had been designed by a daft kid. The singing was joyfully intimidating. Forest looked sharp. People were soon convincing themselves they were going to win.
Eleven minutes in, Danilo broke his ankle. It was a horrible, unexpected thing. Danilo's season was over in the blink of an eye. It was the kind of thing that makes a mockery of plans and predictions. The people who were convinced we were going to win now withdrew into despair. Losing suddenly became the most likely outcome.
Yates came on for the unfortunate Danilo. Not long afterwards a breathtaking move through the heart of the Muffs' defence ended with Yates driving the ball goalwards. Neto batted it into the path of Wood, who coolly steered it home. Suddenly things were looking good again.
Now Forest were definitely in the ascendancy. With Sangaré looking almost imperious, Elanga and CHO both coming close, it seemed only a matter of time before Forest would double their lead.
So, of course, the Muffs scored. Their goal came from a short corner, a smart-arse reverse pass, a low cross and a powerful finish from Dango Quatarra, star of many a low budget spaghetti Western. And, now that Forest's perennial crapness at defending set pieces had re-emerged, the know-it-alls smelt blood. "Our perennial crapness at defending set pieces has re-emerged," they moaned, "which will surely lead to ignominious defeat as we always knew it would."
When the VAR check disallowed the goal for clear offside, the mood became tangled. Relief brought new hope that this might be Forest's day after all, but the weakness against set pieces remained. Some tried to argue that Forest had caught the Muff bloke offside by design, others said it was a fortunate accident. If you stand on the north Pole, your emotional compass will spin like a bluebottle.
Forest tried to maintain the offensive, but the game became a bit too end-to-endy. Willy Boly almost won it with a magnificent header, but Neto stretched to make a fine save. The Muffs pretended to look dangerous, but didn't have much of an end product. Perhaps, just for once, the Lords of Mischance would leave us alone, give us a clean sheet, a win, a position in the top five or six.
Would they buggery. The Muff equaliser, when it came, was a thing of grotesque misfortune. A speculative cross was met by a firm Toffolo boot, from where the ball bounced back off Murillo's head and into the path of Semenyo who couldn't miss. Nobody was to blame. It was just rotten luck. The Muffs didn't exactly deserve it, though their slightly deranged manager would claim they did.
"It had been coming for half an hour," said Mister Know-it-all, with the certainty of somebody reading a bus timetable. He was wrong, of course. Nobody knew what was coming for half an hour, because nobody knows what will happen at any given point in a football match. Ask Danilo. Ask Old Uncle Boff.
The trick is to avoid predictions, punditry, and anyone who claims prior knowledge, and simply embrace the chaos of direct experience. You are allowed to make up your own mind about things, even if that means saying you don't know. Ride the wave (and it promises to be a hell of a wave) and you might just save your sanity.
Nuno described Danilo as "a wonderful boy... you know him, always smiling, always with this joy." Best wishes kid, get well soon.
premier league game 2 august 24th 2024
Sthmptn 0
Nottingham Forest 1 Morgan Gibbs-White 70
PLAYER RATINGS by Miserablebugger
Matz Sels : A disappointing display from the Belgian stopper whose contribution was limited to saving a Kyle Peter-Walkers effort which came straight at him. Needs to get more involved. Not
Kyle Peter-Walkers, he was okay. We went to Brussels once, it was awful. Rating: 2 beans
Neco Williams : A disappointing display from the Welsh full back who has now failed to score in both this season's games. Made several overlapping runs which ended with bad decisions or faulty execution. He was born in Cefn-mawr under a huge viaduct, which explains a lot. Rating: 3 beans
Ola Aina : Another goalless outing for the London-born full back. Like the Welsh fellow on the other wing, some speedy bursts ended in disappointment, like odourless farts. Defended well, once, but Alex Moreno is waiting in the wings. Can Ola keep his place? Do wood lice have tiny motors? Rating: 3 beans
Nikola Milenković : Frightening bloke, hard as granite, with the disturbingly dead eyes of his Serbian compatriot Novak Djoković. Looked dangerous in both boxes, but missed a sitter, which nobody will ever remind him of if they value their own well-being. Rating: best footballer we have ever seen
Murillo : Had little to do, but did it with a disappointing lack of the Brazilian flair of last season. Kept Sthmptn at bay, which was a bit like fending off moths. Rating: 3 beans
Ibrahim Sangaré: : Looked almost imperious in the first half, even coming close with an effort from range. After the break, however, he grew so frustrated by the increased pressure from Sthmptn that he decided to kick the insides out of anyone not wearing blue. Will only become a favourite when people forgive him for keeping them up till after midnight on transfer deadline day. Rating: 3 beans
Elliot Anderson : Disappointing from the expensive Whitley Bay midfielder. Some tackles and passes, which one might expect of a footballer, but his set pieces were as disappointing as a cobbler's thumb. Whitley Bay is where Count Dracula landed in England, which explains why north easteners are as pale as bottles of milk. Rating: 2 beans
Morgan Gibbs-White : A curious egg of a performance from the Forest captain, except that, after his goal, he sprang to life like a coked-up Zebedee. His goal was not "scrambled", as the BBC described it, but a thing of twice-controlled beauty, once when he directed CHO's cross goalwards, twice when he steered the rebound home.
Rating: egg and beans
Anthony Elanga : A typically frustrating performance from the Swedish forward. Some breathtaking runs failed to produce a reward, mainly because Swedes are better at ice hockey and recycling than Premier League football. And making furniture. And cake. Got kicked a lot. Rating: 3 beans
Callum Hudson-Odoi: : A quiet day for the Wandsworth winger. Like his attacking mates, his bark was worse than his bite - lots of threat, but no teeth. Not that he doesn't have a full set of pearly whites, you understand. Assisted with the goal and came to life after it, but the Sthmptn goalie was equal to CHO's trademark shot, which might be ominous for his future goalscoring efforts. Rating: 3 beans
Chris Wood : Spent much of the game finding decent positions and barking at his fellow forwards for not supplying him with decent balls. Had a cloth-footed shot or two, but overall a very ordinary performance from a man with a very ordinary name. Perhaps that's what he needs - an exotic double barrelled name like Christopher Wood-Hardener or something. Rating: 3 beans
Ryan Yates (for Sangare, 66 mins) : Should have been on earlier. When Forest wilt, as they always seem to, Yates is an invaluable addition, like a buzz saw in a tomato factory. Rating: beans and tomatoes
Nicolas Dominguez (for Anderson, 75 mins) : Came on, did stuff, went off. Rating: 1 bean
Willy Boly (for Hudson-Odoi, 90+1 mins) : Came on, stood firm, went off. For those who reckon he should have started, who would he replace? Rating: 2 beans
Jota Silva (for Gibbs-White, 90+1 mins) : At least he knows where the pitch is, which won't stand him in any stead at all because Forest won't be playing Sthmptn next season. Rating: 1 bean
Sam Barrott (referee) : Seemed to be following the PGMOL anti-Forest handbook by booking Nuno after Elanga was one of several Forest players hacked down by Sthmptn thugs, but calmed down after Milenković gave him a look. Rating: no beans today
Match of the Day : What a crock of poo that programme has become. If Man City or Man Ure or Arse or Spurs had been involved in 0-0 draws, would they have been put on last? What a fossilised crock of sycophantic drivel that programme churns out. Rating: eff off
premier league game 3 august 31st 2024
Nottingham Forest 1
Wood 10
Wolverhampton Wonderbras 1 Bellygarde 12
WHAT'S YELLOW AND DIRTY?
I've wrote a pome, Pie.
You were supposed to do a match report.
I have, but in the form of a pome. Do you want to hear it?
Not really.
The match kicked off at 3 o'clock,
The singing was incred,
The Wonderbras wore yellow tops,
And Forest played in red.
Incred?
Street talk, Pie.
The Wonderbras, they had no points,
And Forest thought they'd win,
And lo, the manager of Wolves,
He didn't have a chin.
The Wolves attacked with funny names
But Forest would not breach,
And down the other end they went
And thundered home a peach.
All hail Chris Wood the mighty man
Who rises like the Reaper,
His far post header barrels past
The Wonderbras' new keeper.
The devils cried "off side!" of course
As Woody's bolt went in,
But vainly came the protests from
The man without a chin.
You know this is awful, don't you Stress?
But Forest's joy was minutes old
When things went all to puke,
As Forest failed to clear their lines
And Bellegarde scored a fluke.
O Sangaré, O Sangaré,
Your play's as sweet as sugar,
But other times, O Sangaré,
You're just a clumsy bugger.
The game went on at hectic pace,
All rhythm shot to hell,
As Toti should have been sent off
And Bellygarde as well.
Sadly the ref seemed half asleep,
Alone and gently dreaming
Of dusky maids on distant shores,
And deaf to all the screaming.
Gibbs-White's free kick went mighty close!
The Wolves fans gave him stick,
But deaf to all their loathsome chants
Was England's newest pick.
Two hand-ball penalties denied!
Murillo's head sent spinning!
A save from Sels! A try from Wood!
Both sides intent on winning!
Five mins to go, the game to win,
Murillo's pass to Wood...
The mighty striker slots it home
But wait - the goal's not good!
It doesn't count, it was offside,
And so the game is done.
A draw sounds like a fair result
But Forest should of won.
How oft we hear that sad refrain
At setting of the sun,
They battled hard and did their best,
But Forest should of won.
Should have won. Or should've won. Not should of won.
You ruin everything, don't you Pie? You know what your trouble is, don't you? You just don't appreciate art, that's your trouble.
As Old Uncle Boff used to say:
"Beware he who proclaims as art
The ramblings of a tedious fart."
premier league game 4 september 14th 2024
The Slots 0
Nottingham Forest 1 Hudson-Odoi 72
A THING OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER
Nottingham Forest beat Liverpool at Anfield for the first time this season in a match which ended in victory for Nottingham Forest. We say this because we're sick of hearing that the last time Forest won at Anfield was in 1969, as if generations of Forest fans have spent the intervening years unable to live productive lives because of it. So, as far as we're concerned, the last time Forest beat Liverpool at Anfield was in 2024, one day ago.
Despite having hired their own officials and commentary team, Liverpool never looked like the team which had scored seven goals in three straight wins. This was possibly because, unlike other Premier League teams, several of their players had returned jaded from international duty. Or because some of them were grumbling about new contracts. Or because several might be thinking that if they wanted to work under a useless Dutch manager, they could have joined Man United. Or simply because Forest outmatched them. We will never know.
The match began with the kick off, and it was not long before Forest's tactics - using a packed midfield to stifle the home side and Ryan Yates to kick the crap out of Robertson and Mac Allister or indeed anyone in red - became clear. Forest's defensive resilience was so strong it reduced Salah, or some bloke who looked a bit like him, to moping around in a profound sulk. Diaz could only kick the ball against some wood. Diogo Jota headed meekly into Matz Sels' hands. Alexander Armstrong-Jones spent the afternoon labouring under the delusion that he was better than everybody else so he could complain about anything he wanted to. That was about it as far as Liverpool were concerned. Very little went right for them. It was as if they and their supporters were singing the wrong tune, like that drunk bloke who steps up on the karaoke stage, murders "I Did It My Way", and vomits on his shoes.
Forest, on the other hand, did almost everything right. If Ryan Yates had stopped Diaz slithering through on goal, and Matz Sels had resisted the temptation to behave like a Harlem Globetrotter, their performance would have been perfect.
As it was, Liverpool received plenty of warnings about the danger of Forest's counterattacking, what with Wood, MGW and Elanga all having serious chances to score. The goal, when it came, was a thing of beauty. Another dithering Liverpool attack was broken up and Elanga hared down the right wing, eventually curving a beautiful cross-field ball to Hudson-Odoi. CHO then did what he does - cut in from the left and curled it beyond the keeper, the ball clipping the inside of the post on its way to the back of the net. Dreamland. As the doom-mongers are so fond of saying: "It had been coming". Sadly for Liverpool, the fact that they didn't see CHO's signature move coming is evidence of a lack of proper preparation. Complacency? Arrogance? We will never know.
What we do know is that Nuno and his merry men got things magnificently right. The pressing, the defensive assurance, the substitutions, the counter-attacking threat, the 100 minutes of unrelenting effort, all were brilliantly effective.
What we also know is that, as we write, Liverpool haven't beaten Forest at Anfield for over 1200 minutes. And counting.
Sorry, we've got to go now. Birthday stuff.
premier league game 5 september 22nd 2024
Hove 2
Hinshelwood 42, Welbeck 45
Nottingham Forest 2 Wood 13 (P), Sosa 70, MGW 83
Brighton 2-2 Nottingham Forest: Morgan Gibbs-White sent off during entertaining draw after referee caught drawing ball-shaped television
After a heavy tackle on Brighton's Joao Pedro by Morgan Gibbs-White in the 83rd minute, the referee appeared to deny the home side's claims for a yellow card by indicating that Gibbs-White had played the ball. Moments later the referee sent the Forest captain off by showing him a second yellow. Later, Jones insisted that what many interpreted as a "ball" gesture was in fact his attempt at indicating a television. "I was asking for help from the VAR," said Jones. "Just because I don't understand the protocol and my drawing skills are naff doesn't mean I am a bad person." The referee also sent off Forest coach Nuno Espirito Santo for "pointing aggressively" and the Brighton coach Fabian Hürzeler for being somebody he'd never heard of.
This incident provided a sour ending to what had for the most part been a sour match. Played in a stadium named after a high-fee credit card not accepted by a surprisingly large number of companies, the match began with the home side pretending to look threatening but having the impact of a small bout of flatulence.
It was Forest who struck first when Callum Hudson-Odoi was felled by Baleba in the Brighton box and Chris Wood confidently put away the penalty. For most of the rest of the first half, the biggest worry for the Forest fans was trying to work out what a Pervis Estupinan was, and whether you could buy one online.
The Brighton fans had to wait until the end of the first half to raise a cheer. Cheeky chappy Jack Hinshelwood equalised with the kind of brilliant header he will never manage again in his whole career, and a few minutes later Abrahams floated a free kick into an empty net with the confidence of somebody who genuinely thinks he's really good.
In the second half, Nuno introduced Jota Silva, Williams and Yates for Ward-Prowse, Moreno and Elanga in an attempt to regain some momentum. The Paraguay forward Sosa was also brought on shortly afterwards, an indication that Forest were confident that Jota Silva would combine with Sosa to provide them with an equaliser. And so it proved. Once more the Brighton rear guard were left high and dry by an astute pass from Gibbs-White, Jota Silva burst away from the lumbering Dunk and slipped a cross to Sosa who scored an easy goal. If there is one criticism of Forest, it is that they didn't take full advantage of Brighton's defensive stupidity. Playing a high defensive line with a bunch of slowcoaches will lead nowhere, unless they can score lots more goals, which they probably can't because their forwards too often flatter to deceive. But that's their problem.
Then came the Gibbs-White incident, and even with ten men Forest showed enough guts and ambition to go for the win, which they almost got. But perhaps a draw was fair enough.
The post match interviews were interesting. Nuno's second in command Rui Pedro Silva gave a gracious and considered response, whereas Brighton's Cockney wide boy Andrew Crofts whined on about how they should be winning "matches like that". A while ago Liverpool boss Slots uttered a similar sentiment. Apparently other clubs are finding it hard to stomach the idea that Forest are starting to match them.
Don't be annoyed by the lack of credit Forest are being given at the moment. Surely you can understand that Manchester City versus Arsenal was a match of far greater significance and deserving of over twice as much air time as a grubby little contest on the south coast, even if City are being investigated for crimes against humanity and have a manager who makes as much sense as a meat grinder.
Simply be pleased that we swim below the surface. That way, the poor sods won't know what hit them.
premier league game 6 september 28th 2024
Nottingham Forest 0
Cottageboys 1 Jimenez 51(P?)
So Forest's unbeaten run came to an end against the Cottageboys DID IT REALLY yes it did, but it wasn't really as bad as some people make out WASN'T IT REALLY no it wasn't. Here are a few consoling thoughts...
Okay, so Nuno probably picked the wrong starting line up. I mean, which numpty plays two big strikers and leaves a complete supply line of wingers on the bench? Dearie me. The only consolation is that you and your friends would have done things differently, because you're not as stupid as you look. This should provide some comfort in your desolation.
"We would have done better with MGW". You might use this as an excuse for Forest's midfield ineptitude, but all you're really doing is stating the obvious. I'm not sure what comfort you can derive from saying that the team weren't as good without their best and most inspirational player, unless you're trying to lever yourself into a conversation which threatens to pass you by. I suppose you could spend lonely evenings singing a suitable lament, to the tune of "My Bonny Lies Over The Ocean"....
If Morgan had played we'd've walked it,
With Morgan we might even win.
We'll get bugger all without Morgan
'Cause Morgan Gibbs-White is our king.
Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my Morgan to me, to me,
Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my Morgan to me.
At least Taiwo was back and looking sharp, until he wasn't. If that early overhead kick had found the net, things would have gone biblical. "And the Lord shall sweep mine enemies from the face of the earth" is what would have happened, and everybody would have gone home and had jam for T.
You should console yourself with the thought that, although Forest's performance was a bit of a negative mess, Fulham only won because of incompetent officiating. If Forest can play that poorly and face down some fancy pants north-bankers whose manager rattles on like a toy machine gun and wouldn't know the truth if it crawled up his drainpipe and bit him in the lobby, they probably haven't got too much to worry about.
To make yourself feel better, imagine for a moment that you were referee Josh Smith and any of the VAR people. Imagine trying to live with yourself after failing to award Forest a penalty when Elanga was kicked in the box, nor even considering it worthy of a check. "I was only following the script" you might say, but that wouldn't help at all, while your conscience gnawed away at the rotten tissue of your soul. Just thank heaven you're not, like them, encased in the silence of the damned.
If you're still feeling down, you might consider trying to solve the riddle of James Ward-Prowse. The answer, by the way, is "Nobody knows", which, come to think of it, probably makes things worse.
Cheer yourself up. After the FA Cup 1-1 draw between Worksop Tigers and Kings Lynn, Kings Lynn officials accused Worksop fans of drunken and abusive behaviour. A Worksop spokesman denied the charge, saying Worksop fans were only "half as drunk as they used to be."
At least our owner isn't a mean spirited petro-chemical polluter whose attempts at sportswashing lead to bitterness and decline.
And we're still above them in the table, whoever they are.
We hope these thoughts, many of which are based on truth, provide you with some degree of consolation for Forest's defeat DID WE LOSE REALLY yes we did THANKS FOR REMINDING US that's all right. Perhaps also they might generate some confidence as we go on to meet Chelsea at Stamford Bridge the stadium in London not the pretty little village in Yorkshire where I once dropped my glasses in a mill pond DID YOU REALLY yes I did.
Fear not - this is not the beginning of the end, nor is it the end of the beginning. It may be somewhere in the middle. You can never be sure about these things, can you?
premier league game 7 october 6th 2024
Chelsea 1
Madueke 57
Nottingham Forest 1 Wood 49, Ward-Prowse 78
THE NORTHBANK REDEMPTION
If the media got off its collective bum and were forced to characterise Nottingham Forest, they would have to describe us as "The Team What Doesn't Take Shit From Nobody". Forest's latest victims were the Mighty Chelsea, whose recent success had transformed it from a team with a nice kit to a team oozing glamour, goals and Cole Palmer. A team so much up its own backside it was taking selfies of itself as it walked out onto the pitch.
Chelsea made the terrible mistake of assuming they would dispose of the team from Ap Nofe as one might bin a used yoghurt carton. The expectation of successfully completing this assignment was high, because nobody expects a yoghurt carton to fight back.
They should have known better. Perhaps they should have realised after half a minute, when Yates left Fernandez on the floor, that it was not to be Palmer who ran the game, but the Nottingham man and his rough mates. Sadly, the hosts failed to understand what was happening to them for a long time, instead pretending that their swanky flicks would eventually and inevitably produce the goods. The trouble was, with CHO being used to neutralise Cucurella and Ola Aina bracing Forest's right, Chelsea got nowhere down their left. On their right, Palmer swaggered about like a slack jawed incompetent and Madueke fired every shot wildly wide or over or both.
While Chelsea laboured to penetrate the red wall, Forest occasionally reminded them that they too could play threatening football. After ten minutes a promising Forest move ended with Yates bulleting a header straight at goalkeeper Sanchez. Forest continued to play some neat stuff but failed to find a good final ball. Around the half hour mark, sensing Chelsea's confusion, Forest pressed forward dangerously. Murillo intercepted a loose crossfield pass, drove towards goal and unleashed a stinger which Sanchez is probably still feeling. For a while, Forest were on top, Milenkovic was lurking ominously in the Chelsea box, and the Forest fans sang "We're Nottingham Forest, we'll sing on our own". And some other stuff too.
The first half ended in a scatterbrained way. Murillo lost the ball deep in defence, chaos ensued, little girls screamed as the ball rebounded off the post behind Matz Sels, who eventually scooped the ball off his goal line and coolly set Forest on their way. Forest stormed down to the other end and manufactured an opportunity for Yates which was blocked. The last five minutes threatened to die of a heart attack, so was probably relieved when the whistle went.
And what had Chelsea learned? That poncing around trying to look cool was no way to earn a living. That Cole Palmer had misplaced every pass he had attempted and ended up just looking lazy and gormless. That Nottingham Forest were not prepared to take shit from anybody, especially this bunch of bad haircuts. Roll on the second half.
If the first half was a rehearsal, the second half was the real thing. On 48 minutes Jackson ploughed through Ward-Prowse and gave away a free kick. As the free kick was taken, Madueke was "inconvenienced" by Moreno, which left Milenkovic free of attention apart from that of Gusto, who provided little resistance. Milenkovic nodded sideways to Wood, who slipped it skilfully past Sanchez. From beginning to end, it was a very clever goal.
Forest controlled play for ten minutes or so while they searched for another goal. They nearly got it too when Anderson steered a shot at Sanchez.
The Chelsea equaliser came from Madueke, the man who couldn't hit a shot on target all afternoon. The irony was that, if he had hit the shot properly this time, it would probably have smashed into one of the three defenders in his way. As it was, he scuffed the shot and it bobbled through three pairs of legs into what goalkeepers call the rabbit hole.
You might imagine Forest would wilt, but not so, not this Forest. They stubbornly resisted, but were brave enough to push forward when they could. Gibbs-White's injury seemed to galvanise them further, while Chelsea players, especially Jackson and Palmer, sank into a kind of petulant stupidity
Forest were still pressing when Ward-Prowse got himself sent off for hand ball as Jackson threatened to break free. He shouldn't have bothered, of course, because everybody knew Jackson would have cocked things up anyway.
Chelsea tried hard, they really did, but ten man Forest had their measure. Palmer was running on increasingly sunken hips, Chelsea seemed mesmerised by their own lack of guile, and their frustration boiled over when Neco Williams tripped Cucurella on the touchline in retaliation for an earlier foul.
The only thing the ensuing "brawl" proved was that Chelsea were a bunch of entitled cry-babies and Cucurella was a bit of a rat. But we knew that anyway.
Felix came on and was useless, even at diving. Neco nearly scored. Matz Sels made three close range saves and a tip over, thus entering the zone of unbeatable insanity which all goalkeepers strive for. Ryan Yates kept pulling the game back Forest's way by manufacturing free kicks against a rather dumb Caicedo.
And still ten man Forest tried to get forward. Why? Why didn't they just play keep ball? Because they wanted to win, and knew they could. They actually ended the match on top. Instead of wasting time in the corner, Aina played a beautiful ball to Jota, whose downward header forced a fingertip save from Sanchez.
Forest played for twenty six minutes with ten men and almost won it at the end, like Andy Dufresne crawling through those sewer pipes to freedom. As for Chelsea, well, they'll probably learn nothing from this encounter. They might even deny it ever happened. It's what really dumb people do, after all. They play Liverpool next. You remember them - the ones we beat on their own patch, because we're proving to be better than anyone wants us to be.
MGW 83
POWERED BY BEANZ