2 March 2009


Above is a picture from some shitty Palace website. It is entitled 'The moment Pardew became a Palace legend'.

Now, it's not been a great week admittedly. My idea to invite 3 Crewe fans round to listen to that fateful 6-pointer on Seagulls World back-fired terribly. Some people find the whole football thing quite easy to swallow in hard times, for me though I am becoming more and more affected by the player's ineptitude. I'm a reasonably social person, I can take Albion directed abuse with ease and am as self-deprecating as they come. But Saturdays slap in the face - like all other defeats in this woeful season - have turned me into a hermit. I skuttle away, miserable to the point of aggression. On saturday I left my 3 guests in the lounge while I went to do the washing up. I rarely do washing up.

I can't comprehend what is going wrong at the football club at the moment - perhaps here at TSLR we're scared to point the finger at any one element such is the fractured nature of our readership. We will sit on the fence until something major happens - such is the clique-ness within Queens Road that even our moles are unsure what to say.

One thing we did discuss last week on a mid-morning editorial catch up was Alan Pardew. A drip of a man, a Palace legend, an accent that winds up one of my friends to the point of insanity ("f*cking estuary english tw*t") and a manager that has had history with the Albion. Casting prejudices aside though, we think that he could do a job, perhaps enjoying the relative freedoms of being outside the public eye at a small, but ambitious club.

After the embarrassments of the Gannon affair, it may be a few more days before the new gaffer is announced, let's hope they make the right decision, one more fuck-up from the board and things could get decidedly messy. Scrap that, I mean messy-er.

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