So, the Scottish FA have paid to take George Burley off our hands, which means there’s a flurry of quotes in the news like this one from ex Scotland boss Craig Brown:
“His track record is very sound, but what is particularly good about George is his man-management. He always gets the best out of players.”
Now, I’m not doubting that he does have a good track record but always getting the best out of players? For the last couple of months he’s not seemed capable of playing players in their correct positions let alone get the best out of them.
At least now we might be able to drop Jason Ewell…
If the facts of my life were to be written down on a single side of A4, you’d probably draw the conclusion that I was a man of science. To a point I am, but that doesn’t stop me having a number of superstitions (mostly based around football) that despite the fact I know are completely stupid, I also believe probably hold the fabric of the universe together and which if not followed would allow very bad things to happen.
One such match day tradition is the pre-match cookie. This cookie must (and I can’t emphasise this enough) be double chocolate chip (ie chocolate cookie and chocolate chips). This cookie must be consumed at some point while sat in the ground. It’s important to note that different types of cookie just aren’t good enough, to the point where you may as well not bother. Sure, we still loose when the correct biscuit is purchased, but the world just isn’t perfect like that.
Occasionally when the correct cookie cannot be found, experiments have to be performed on other bakery based goodness, and good results have been obtained with cinnamon twists but I’ve yet to prove one way or the other the long term effects of changing snack.
Now I’m not saying that this will work for everybody, hell I’m not saying it really works for me, but you didn’t really expect meaningful advice did you?
Next week, how to obtain match winning sandwiches for games with an early kick off…
I managed to put in all of a days work this year before succumbing to the Vauxhall Nova Virus that all the cool kids are catching. Not content with that, I then managed to screw up my stomach in the process leading to the worst pain I’ve ever felt, and all at midnight. It was heartening then, that within 5 minutes of calling NHS direct complaining that it felt like someone had shot me but without the obvious symptom of a bullet hole, I had already been called back by a doctor, even if all he told me was that it would probably pass.
So, a thumbs up to the midnight doctor types and let’s hope it’s all upwards from here.