Travelling tittle-tattle, tall tales and shameless name-dropping by Jon ‘Don’t Call Me’ Norman

About Me

Sunday, 17 February 2008

Hangover at 35,000 feet!

As anyone who's done the flight from England to Australia knows it's nothing short of a 24-hour brain lock. This time the stopover consisted of one precious hour in Seoul which allowed nowhere near enough time to undo the DVT in my legs. But no matter how many times I felt myself mentally unravelling on the plane as the valium started to mix in with a red wine and vodka hangover. When you can be standing on the platform on Clapham Junction station at 9.03am on a Tuesday.


And be on Bondi Beach at almost exactly the same time on a Saturday.


Then it's kind of worth all the hassle.

Off to the Blue Mountains in the morning. Will post a proper 'blog when I return.

Monday, 4 February 2008

Maggie Thatcher

14 = Games since last win
6 = points from safety
0 = pundits tipping us to beat Villa
0 = goals scored in previous three games
1 = talkSPORT colleagues at the game who support Villa ready to give me stick

68 minutes into our must win game against Aston Villa we deservedly score our first of the game. Unfortunately it was in the wrong net. At this point Fulham were getting relegated.

Four minutes later and our very own Margaret Thatcher lookalike set up Simon Davies (he of the personally penned chant 'Simon Davies, Simon Davies, only scores goals in 3-1 defeats) to bring us back from the brink.

And with four minutes remaining, our £6 million man Diomansy Kamara (more useless than 'Useless Bob' aka Steve Marlet) loses control of the ball and somehow draws a foul from England's Curtis Davis. Up steps Jimmy (he's better than Frank Lampard, he's better than Stevie Gerrard, he's Jimmy Bullard) and Craven Cottage detonates.

It's been a while since I've said this but I quite like football.....sometimes.