Never mind, you’ll probably never look that pretty again

Ron Waller

We live in uninteresting times. A winded Wycombe Wanderers fanbase posts listlessly on acne ridden Internet messageboards, pretending to care about the latest world famous manager appointed to build yet another collection of over-paid and flatulent play-off ditherers. We are drained.

Tired of the star-fucking. Exhausted with the wages. Shattered by the expectations. Fatigued by the budgets, the staff and the debts. Worn out by those moaning about the debts. Pooped by the repetitive Wasps hyper-ambition and all the empty plastic seats it brings. And, at least once a day, the WWFC Media Team post on the gasroom, to remind us all how important everything is, how exciting it will all be, and most importantly, to check we’re still around, to prod the slumped body of fans, before we peg out through the dreariness of it all.

They’re alright, of course, nothing particularly wrong with the WWFC Media Team, and to ensure posting crap on the gasroom is part of your job spec is an achievement up there with discovering a new country or finding a cure for a mid-level venereal disease. But enough. It shouldn’t be their job to liven up the summer by drip feeding half stories about Bodger winning an arm wrestling contest or Will Antwi’s views on existentialism, or posting to deny some witless drivel posted on the gasroom by people halfway through being ejected from Hazlemere Library with their trousers round their ankles. It’s early June, and no amount of signings and glamour, and ex-England Under 21 managers holding scarves above their heads can revitalise a weariness still fresh in the minds of those who trekked to Stockport.

Ah Stockport, 90 minutes (45 for some) of shouting ourselves hoarse to support the side, only to hear our repetitive, tuneless catalogue of Wycombe “songs” struggle to travel five yards and reach the pitch, instead drifting pointlessly into the unforgiving, police packed streets of Edgeley. If further insult was needed, Wycombe’s very own stewards, presumably present because of their empathy with the visiting supporters, further demoralise everyone by insisting those supporters sit down. They make this demand only minutes after Wycombe concede, just as the realisation that the season is over, after ten months of effort, hits home. Some empathy. It was a pretty close call as to what would have been preferable: a vicious club round the head from the GMP, or being told to sit down during the worst five minutes of the season by someone with a nasally Bucks voice, WWFC written on their hat and the Sunday opening times of the Eden Centre printed on their back.

Put it to bed son. Walk away. Leave it. Last week smbu published the article Finance V6.1 and the response was apposite. Bugger all. The article stated what we all know, in basic terms, offering little opinion about the financial status of the club. For all the pertinent facts littering the article, there’s little to discuss in its aftermath. This is where we are, there’s nothing more to say. The club either react to what’s in front of them, and address how much money is being spent, sploshed, splashed and mashed, or they don’t. They either think it’s an issue, or they don’t. Peter Taylor could get the same budget as Paul Lambert and then another £300,000 for the run in. It could get us promoted this time around. On the other hand, once again, it might not. And we’d have learnt nothing and gone nowhere and still be empty inside. There is another way and it’s not madness and it does involve the Youth team, and a bit of patience and a bit of pride being swallowed. It doesn’t mean the Conference and it doesn’t mean you hate good football and talented footballers.

We’ll keep banging away. But in a bit, yeah?

12.06.2008. 07:43

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