Me & Magdalena (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Fabian Delph)

There’s been nothing written on here for ages because, quite frankly, it just didn’t feel appropriate at the end of last season. 

To be honest, after a bit the thing was going to get jibbed altogether, but then I found some random notes from the run-in and thought we might as well just dump them online. I’m paying for the hosting after all.

So, we’re a bit rusty, and can’t really think of any over-arching narrative to put an article together, so we’ll just paste it here.

Right. You’ve had your fucking fun.

Primeval forces at work around Arkham Stadium now. The Kraken has awoken and some cunt is getting it. Blue smoke rises from cracks in the earth’s crust as dark, ancient things are summoned to do the County Road Cthulu’s bidding once more. A flying dog on Goodison Road is like something imagined by Bulgakov. The Master and Yerry Mina.

Frank Lampard, still fresh-faced and naive. Earnest, well-meaning and caught amid things that are bigger than him. Bigger than all of us. He’s Edward Woodward in The Wicker Man. Or maybe Nicolas Cage – after all, he did scream ‘The Bees!’ when Jarrad Branthwaite got sent off.

The eye of Sauron glares across the park. But Jordan Pickford makes a ridiculous double save and screams: ‘I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it is not this day!’

It was either that or ‘FUCK OFF!’

The Sesame Street-faced South American trio. 

Gettysburg. Every game is Gettysburg

Mylolenko looks like a baby ostrich hatching from an egg laid by Gordon Cowans.

Patrick Viera’s Gogglebox-looking assistant.

Peter Kenyon. What this stadium needs is a monorail! 

A monorail would actually be decent when you think about it. Nice one Pete. Why did Kenwright never think of it?

Yet another idea for Viz even if the bastards never return your emails and asked – nay, insisted – that you stop turning up at the office unannounced:

Maxwell Cornet and his sexist hornet. zzzz stupid cow zzzz zzz slags!