Thursday, 2 February 2012
I've said it before (but can't be bothered digging up the post, sorry) and I'll say it again.
Danny fucking Mills.
What a pile of shite. As soon as I heard his voice on 5 Live, I knew we were in for another rough night at Goodison. Another soul-destroying slog through treacle with fuck-all to show for it at the end. Another midweek 90 minutes of desolation - 90 minutes of my life lost forever. I know, I know; Danny Mills can't be blamed for all (and they are certainly legion) of our current shortcomings, but it is somehow comforting to do so. Bring back Yaya! goes the cry. When will the Elephants stumble in the long grass? Who knows, but - like Mr Mills - the absence of the Mighty One cannot explain all.
Not good enough, Bobby admits that, not enough preparation (WTF?!!?) and a sense of complacency because we had won at Spurs (WTFF??!!!?). The usual suspects have come under fire - both here and elsewhere - in previous matches, and were culpable again at Everton. Dzeko, Barry, De Jong (replacing Milner? Really??) and AJ. And of course, two pens for the Rags, and the pressure is on. Every team, we know, goes through periods of a drop in form, and United are famously good at the back end of the season. I don't have a good feeling about the next few weeks. Yaya could easily pick up an injury out in Africa, and then where would we be? Relying on Pizarro's knee.
Anyway, hearing the news from Egypt kind of puts a perspective (yet again) on the whole thing. Another dark day in the annals of the game.