The room is dark. The solitary table lamp illuminates little beyond Don AWB's hooded eyes as he splinters walnuts. Controlled violence and a clear message to us as we wait his words. For a moment I think he is clearing his throat but it dawns on me he is trying to pronounce Szczesny...
"He has no respect, his hatred is not understandable from a punk who is not even an Arsenal fan."
I make an effort to correct the Don's last statement but am cut short as another walnut splinters. I find myself nodding in ascent instead.
"He's young, passing through to another club... In the end if he means these words from the heart..." Another walnut gives way to the Don's ministrations, the shell cascading to the desktop to be wiped away suddenly by the back of the Don's hand. "He doesn't for sure." He motions to the door and we file out, happy to see the sky.
Well, it could. perhaps should have happened like that. Mountains and molehills, storms and teacups. I think it's plainly a very slow day today news wise and but for this comedy gold from Messrs Szczesny and Villas-Boas it would be just another day of transfer speculation / fabrication and the long wait till the morrow where (hopefully) we get to see Chelsea stuff the Spuds. Sour cream, chives and a sprinkling of bacon bits to order.
It's getting tight. I've made several stabs at predicting results, getting ours spot on but unbelievably, Chelsea and Spurs keep winning too. It's annoying. Very annoying. Six points to play for and it doesn't help that even getting these might mean missing out on fourth. Mathematically a lot can still happen. We could come 2nd. We could come 5th. I'd settle for the middle ground and another season in the Champion's League.
So ahead of tomorrow I'm calling every Chelsea fan I know to do the unthinkable and wish them luck. I have the Bale voodoo doll sorted and a lovely selection of shiny pins. I think I have it all under control... just have to find a place to put this horse head.
Night all.
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