Great wasn’t it? The Premiership started at the weekend and I loved it.
Getting up at 9 o’clock to watch the very lovely Helen Chamberlain on Soccer AM. Lay on couch to watch the first game then out to the pub to meet the boys to watch another hero Jeff Stelling on Soccer Saturday. Just fantastic.
Saturday also saw the return of the quid in the jar game. Now for all you guys who watch the results come in here is how it goes. Pick a team put your quid on the table. If your team is first to score the cash is yours. As a tip
on Celtic or Rangers when they are at home can easily subsidise the greatest session of all. The Saturday afternoon
sesh.
As for the football itself, as I exclusively predicted Chelski will indeed be responsible for bursting more than one coupon this year.
However what I didn’t fully explain was that they will turn up at grounds they haven’t won at since George Best was sober and disappear over the horizon with the
the points
I should possibly declare something here. The game at Anfield was meant to be the highlight of my weekend. The plan was four of us were playing golf in the morning with intention of
traveling back to our local to watch the game.
A great plan, even if many of you now think I like my toast buttered side down, now you know I play golf. It was a tournament thing at my mates club, which is a bit up its arse, so I expected a civilised day.
When I arrived in my taxi the fact there was a very cheery fat bloke, for whom a heart attack can only be a matter of weeks away, dispensing generous measures of Grand Marnier should have alerted me to the shambles that was about to unfold.
Next to the clubhouse to get changed. Another member was again dispensing large tinctures of a very acceptable malt. Despite being 8.30 AM the bar was open so it was only appropriate to give the club support by getting a few in before we went out.
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