Please allow me to make a small apology. To the poor lady who had the misfortune to sit next to me on Saturday in the Railway End I am sorry for not engaging you in conversation but I was hungover and was scared to talk to you as my mouth tasted like a skunk had defecated last night's chicken tikka madras in my mouth. My pathetic dithering in the cold must have annoyed the hell out her, I did suck mints to try and freshen up a touch but I'm not sure they had the desired effect.
However the action on the pitch was far livelier and entertaining which was a good job as any relapse into hoofball would have had me snoring in seconds. I wouldn't have needed horlicks. The pre match lullabies nearly did the trick although I did struggle to my feet to engage in a rendition of Keep Right On and was saved from trying not to slur the words by the teams being announced halfway through the anthem. I was pleased to take my seat and dragged the bloke in front down and nodded that gesture that men understand. He didn't need me to tell him the problem. He had suffered my hot rancid breath on his neck like a scene from Interview With a Vampire. The only similarity though is that my mouth tasted like Brad Pitt and I looked like his ugly twin, Arm.
Clearly the sulphurous emissions from my body had drifted in the wind to the far end of the pitch and severely affected the Blues defence's ability to defend. What other reason can there be for so many players to shin so many clearances? It was as if they had launched a private game of discombobulation continued from training to see who could shin the ball into as much trouble as possible. Taylor was prevented from joining in but later played his own personal game of ‘Punch like a Girl'.
Preston should have been a few goals clear by the time Blues took the lead. But oh well tough titty on them. It's all well and good playing neat approach football but if you cannot stick the ball in the net it counts for nothing. The Blues have been especially indifferent in front of goal for a few seasons but not any more.
Preston had done their homework and every time the dangerous Bendtner got the ball they closed him down quickly. This worked very well indeed for them and on a normal day would be highly commended except for the fact that as so much attention was paid to the Danish wunderkind the equally able McSheffrey was pretty much allowed free time to drift into space and strike two right footed goals.
Credit for both goals must go to Sadler who struck sweet passes into the box firstly to Jerome who did excellent in holding the ball up and reversing it to McSheffrey and then directly to the goal machine himself. I would like to convey to Sadler however a small piece advice shouted to him from behind me which may well assist him in his career and help him become a better all round player, ‘Get your hair cut Sadler you scruffy sod'. No charge for that advice Mat. Do what you want with it.
Two nil up against our major promotion rivals. Had the alcohol played mind games with my poor brain? I needed something to snap me back into reality. This was the Blues; nothing is ever done smoothly. Cue a Preston corner, Taylor's Superman impression and Ormerod hooked the ball home to reduce the deficit. So I was conscious after all. Half time and I needed a coffee. I just couldn't be bothered to move. I think if I had cheekily asked the woman next to me to fetch something that she would have gone just for a few minutes break from the rotting corpse next to her.
The second half was just as helter skelter and the defending got worse if anything. Mind you the defenders were closer to me now and were receiving fresh blasts of cheap lager, onions, garlic, minced beef, cucumber, etc. I have never seen so many attempts at clearing the ball fail so miserably. At times it was criss-crossing our goal mouth without even a Preston player getting involved.
Taylor redeemed himself with some fine saves before McSheffrey pushed Bendtner over in a playground spat and rammed home a penalty for his hat trick. All in all a fine result and great entertainment.
I lied to you last week and offer my second apology of this rambling. I said that Bendtner and McSheffrey were worth the entrance fee on their own. The Preston admission charge was great value for money thanks to the comical defending by the Blues, the profligacy of the Preston forwards and the two hours relative peace I had to recuperate. I just wish that woman had fetched me some coffee. Perhaps we could launch an initiative of caring for our fellow supporters? At the next game have a look at the person sitting next to you. How do they look? If they appear gaunt, haggard, lifeless and more suited to selling the Big Issue as they emit a just audible hum then see if you can't help them with a cup of tea/ coffee. It will make you feel better about yourself as well. Every day you should do a good deed that makes you happy inside.
Away to Sheffield Wednesday on a Saturday is never any fun. Those damned Owls are on a good run and we should hope for a brief outbreak of Bird Flu. Our away record has been excellent and although we have opened up a slight gap it can close in the space of one weekend.
Keep right on. Drink responsibly kids. Getting drunk isn't big nor clever, it doesn't make you a better dancer nor does it make you more attractive to the opposite sex.