So, fewer people than I thought know the old Fatima Whitbread and the cricket ball joke. I am sorely tempted, sorely tempted, but even in my condition the repercussions from the guardians of good taste, of which the Northern League seems to have more than its fair share, and vocal at that, certainly in print, would be up in arms, so I must leave it to your imaginations, not a pretty thought. And now I find that my favourite spear chucker didn't even win in the jungle, absolute disgrace, is there no justice? A first class focused athlete like that beat by some pretty boy off the telly? Still we can't all be winners in life, as the Emperor Hirohito said ruefully, and at least the football is going well.
Going well? It's going amazing! I bet you thought when our bonny boys slipped to fifth that the bubble had burst and a gentle decline through the rest of the season beckoned. I certainly did. But not at all, not at all, a cracking run of form with yet more great wins on the road the highlight, not many will go to Aycliffe and Bedlington in four days and get two wins, and we are back on top of the pile and showing no signs of weakening. Can we dare to dream? Is it to be the sticky league after all? I understand the fat lad has to say the good word to the FA and the League this very month. Will he dare? What would the council say? Success in Sunderland? We can't have that. This will ruin 50 years of planned decline, the buggers will be reopening the shipyards next, and then where would we be? Ah well, be good to see what comes next, and in the meantime, season of goodwill and all that, let's gup a few more eh; tally ho!