Saturday, April 10, 2010

On shirts and shit...

Day started nicely. Lots of sunshine. Enough to cause me a Formula1 pit lane-style conundrum over how many layers to wear to the football. There was a moment, as I sat in the garden supping coffee and listening to some pre-match build-up and getting a little bit excited, when I considered a short-sleeved shirt with a t-shirt beneath. But that arrangement went out the window as soon as it dawned on me that I would be unable to sit down in the shirt in question without all of the buttons bursting open. I may be deluding myself but I am almost certain that the shirt must have shrunk in the wash. As it was, I donned a jacket over a long-sleeved shirt. If I hadn't been sitting on the prawn sandwich side of the KC Stadium the dress code would have been a little shabbier. Hull City's performance against fellow cellar-dwellers Burnley was abysmal. The majority of players lacked the necessary passion required to fight for the three points. And so it was that they ended up losing 1-4. And, more disastrously and highly likely, look to have ensured that the Tigers' Premier League dream will end after two seasons. In our posh and poncy seats, we were separated by the Burnley board of directors by a piece of rope. I do hope it was put out of sight quickly at the conclusion of the game because a lot of Hull City fans, sick to see their team self-defeated by unmotivated, mercenary, money-grabbing twats with no skill, would no doubt have been keen to have fashioned it into a noose.

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