Thursday is the day of surprises, as it is every transfer window day. Not long to go now. So what wonders will it bring us? Grealish on a white stallion, or how about Lyon’s midfield player Tanquy Ndombele, then there is Anthony Joran Martial of United fame. The man that United won’t sell to rivals, but he could go to Chelsea, Spurs or even uncle Tom Cobley or another name that one of our national papers can pluck from the sky.
Then there are the players we are going to sell, such as Mousa Dembele, Toby Aldenweireld (that is if Spurs can get a replacement, never mind that we’ve got one in Sanchez). And Rose by name and Rose by nature. And what about Kane or Dier, Trippier or even the whole damn team. Names, names, names thought up by publishers just to sell papers. Today’s news is tomorrow’s fish & chip wrappers.
God, isn’t it exciting reading so much crap. But then it does inspire us poor supporters to get on social media and give our “informed” two pennies worth to those that are also informed. In fact, we end up so informed we know nothing, but never mind, it is what social media is for. Don’t you just love it?
I am sure I am one of many millions of football-loving junkies that will be glued to my phone and continuously scrolling on Twitter, Facebook or some other numpty social media outlet to get my fix. Get nothing, and the tears will roll, get something and the questions will be, did we buy right, left or centre…
Oh, the drama as the seconds, minutes and then hours tick down to 5 pm deadline time. Doesn’t it send a tickle all over your body? Just as if you’ve been rubbed down with sandpaper.
Then, when the news reaches us that we’ve bought so-and-so another set of debates begin over the worthiness of the player(s)
Then we move to January, assess, point to the manager and yell as loud as we can, “buy, you no good for nothing… so-and-so…” Of course, we could be at the top of the Christmas tree by then, in which case we still shout with that familiar tone, “Buy, you no good for nothing… so-and-so, otherwise we won’t sustain our position”. After all, we know best.
Nothing changes, other than the weather, taxes and Madame Tussaud’s waxwork dummies. Oh, bring on Saturday and the start of the Premier League, I want some serious action, speculation just wears you down until you become a jibbering wreck. Then the end of the season comes, and the cycle starts all over again…
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