Loony Toons

Last night I fell asleep dreaming of Andy Johnson. No joke. I lay there in the dark imagining him running in on goal with the ball at his feet. I re-ran the sequence over and over and again until I dropped off. Blissful sleep awaited and a long pleasant daydream kept me snug on my rain soaked way to work in the morning. Before and after these hidden moments I found myself staring dreamily at the league tables. Needless to say I had derived much happiness from Fulham's 2-1 win over Newcastle.

Fe was also pleasantly surprised. This is the text conversation we had shortly after the final whistle.

Me: Hey babe, we won!
Fe: Wow!

I love it when she's enthusiastic but couldn't help notice how shocked she was. Gives you some idea of how highly she rates Fulham. Before I had left the house I'd shown her the league table which had us in 18th place. She peered at the screen, gave a warm sigh and an exclamation that made me realise she understood the plight we once again find ourselves in.

I still don't think she can quite understand why our family persist with Fulham. Like we have a choice. Since she landed in England Fulham have been flirting with, nay, having full sexual intercourse with the relegation zone. And Fe sees through the blind hope and tells me how it is. We're not very good and are unlikely to EVER be any good. So why not drop give up now and start supporting a good team. I've noticed how she perks up a little whenever Theo Walcott appears on the screen or another one of those 'young footballers with those good tricks'.

Although I argue that it's to be admired that we stick by a team that is always going to have to battle for each and every small success she's still not impressed. Rooting for the underdog is not something to be proud of it seems. It appears I'm starting to see a cultural difference between the English and the Kiwis.

But fast forward a couple of hours as I sat there watching Fulham drop deeper and deeper against Newcastle it crossed my mind she had a point. And after our opponents scored the off-side equaliser that had been coming since the resumption of the second half they had one too. And not for the first time I questioned when I would finally decide enough was enough. It was only the presence of a pensioner to my right that convinced me my body and heart could take many more years of this.

But in the end we won. And we all walked away talking excitedly about our position in the top ten. Looking forward to the Tottenham game and agreeing their luck was bound to come to an end sooner or later.

My luck on the other hand shows no signs of taking a dip for the downturn. Friday saw me sent off on talkSPORT reporting duty once again. This time to a 'street cricket' event in West London which involved the legendary West Indian cricketer Courtney Walsh. And also Devon Malcolm. Over 600 Test wickets between them. It was class. And the highlight was without doubt the six deliveries I faced off them both. I've attached a couple of photos. I've chosen the onces that make it look like I came close to getting bat onto ball. I'd have needed a slice of luck far greater than the one Fulham got at the end of last season to have connected with a single delivery. I was hopeless. They, anything but.









And you can hear the interview. If you so wish on by visiting this site.

http://new.talksport.net/index.asp?id=104204&c=&t=