Straining

A big win, they said. A decent match, though we could - and should - have banged more goals in. The Geordies didn't threaten over much, but sometimes looked dangerous on the break. Yaya is clearly the man for the big occasion, although I'm already thoroughly sick of hearing that he is 'worth every penny' of his transfer fee and the massive pay cheque he receives each week. But, he is a thing of beauty on the pitch, an enormous brooding presence that can suddenly burst into life and run the length of the pitch, or get off a sublime shot from 25 yards out.

Now all that stands in our way is the Ruabon soul dancer, that alumnus of the Rags, of Chelsea, of Wales, of Blackburn, of Fulham, and of course - of City. Sparky's boys, fighting not to go down with the chicken men and the Wolves, complete with Joey Barton and SWP for resonance, as well as Taarabt for possible goal danger. Can we do it? Will the Mackems, now without the ever pliant Steve Bruce, stand up to the dejected Rags and do the job for us? Kick off time on Sunday can't come soon enough.

My heart is all a-flutter at the prospect, let me tell you. I fear for us against the Hoops and am beginning to regret making mention of Stan Bowles in a previous post (though in the style of Private Eye's Andrew Neil Brillo shot, I think I should put that picture up again). What I am trying to keep in mind is: 'win or lose, it's City for ever'. It doesn't matter if we are pipped at the post, because we've given our all this season, and it's been a mighty good one in terms of entertainment value. Still, eh? One in the eye for old Fergie and his merry men will top things off nicely.

COME ON CITY!