Dearest Accrington, Arsenal, Bolton (wild card), Bury, Fulham, Leeds, Liverpool, QPR, Newcastle, Sunderland, Sheffield Wednesday, Tottenham, Watford fans, and last but not least, Frickley Athletic…
This weekend is really the big kick off. The race begins now
Or as they say in La belle France, La course commence maintenant.
Relire, car c’est une partie de vos études
Or as they say in l’Angleterre
Read it again, for it’s part of your education.
At the start of the 2017-18 race there will be no thought of relegation, not even for those who live in Accrington) but rather a dream of –
played 42 won 42 drawn 0 lost 0 Goals For 420, Goals Against 0.
Or something similar. All against a background aroma of hot dogs, fried onions, Bovril and liniment oil.
On Saturday, I saw the whole of the Wednesday match against QPR, but admittedly got bored at times and switched from vision to audio.
Championship vision is not that enchanting. Mostly it’s pedestrian stuff, with a victory (if you’re lucky) grounded out.
QPR fielded a team of body builders, and it couldn’t stop me thinking of the body builder who earlier in the day did a back flip and killed himself by breaking his neck.
For all the pain you have endured this weekend, bear in mind that my wife is going through agony with an arthritic hip, hopefully to be replaced in September.
There is pain and there is relief.
A hip can be mended.
But relegation is another matter altogether.