HAVE you ever pondered life’s imponderables? For example, if there is a god, why is Chris Moyles rich?
Why do those imbeciles with their tinny-sounding iPods, try to turn public transport into what sounds like Cicada’s playground?
Anyway, I digress. Why is it that you can watch some games and think – “We won’t score here if we play until doomsday”? Conversely, you can watch matches like the West Brom game on Sunday, and see that in every attack we looked like scoring.
The match had an end-of-season feel to it somehow. In fact, when West Brom got back to 3-1, I had a feeling of déjà vu.
In the last game of last season against West Brom, I jokingly texted a friend at half-time, that if all went well, we could scrape a draw!
Ben Arfa continues to amaze and frustrate. Superbly confident, you wonder if he’s ever going to pass, but with a shuffle, a change of pace and direction that would impress a housefly – he’s gone.
He was instrumental in everything good we did and you can forgive him when some stuff doesn’t come off, because like two other mercurial Frenchmen we’ve had, if we don’t know what’s coming next, the opposition haven’t a clue.
The injury to Colo is a worry. With a huge game this weekend we need all the experience we can get.
The game, of course, is against Liverpool, the team that most of our squad left to join in order to better themselves, the team that you need the Hubble telescope to spot in the table behind us. We let ourselves down at Anfield. It’s time to right that wrong.
Whatever happens to our season, I would love to finish above them, if only to ram the Jamie Redknapp’s patronising guff down his throat.
Before the Norwich game he said that we’d done really well, but shouldn’t get ideas of grandeur, metaphorically patting us on the head.
You see because we’re Newcastle, we aren’t allowed to dream. That’s for the pundits who predict a Liverpool revival.