Underneath The Bunker

And so deadline day passed like a bent stool, potentially painful but the worst is gone, for now. Iron Nat Tyson was inches from leaving the club, yet the PLC pulled in their trousers and tucked him to their chest for another five months at least.

There are arguments for and against the whey-faced wing whippet staying, and straight out of Compton/Meat Clinic: here they are.

Scenario One
Tyson rocks seventy (twenty four) goals in as the Chairmen, led by Honest John storm to promotion in time-honoured fashion. The season ends with an emotional Nathan re-booking the Sex Pistols to play at Wycombe Town Hall before hopping on the first bus marked "Sheffield United". The wretched Drone Army are enraged, but only for a few minutes until the wetnurse curls some curdled breast milk into their mouths

Scenario Two
Tyson runs out against Northampton on Friday night, pumping his fist to the diabolical Drone Army behind the goal but inside he's broken-hearted. He wanted that move. His disillusionment means he goes into a tackle half-hearted and subsequently snaps his cruciate ligaments. As fans trail out of the stadium, in tears, there is the sound of major club investor the Loan Ranger sawing off his own head in the woods behind the ground.

Scenario Three
Tyson is sold to Cardiff for 300k on August 31 2005, and after a major gash-eruption from the vile Drone Army, his departure is accepted. Wycombe go on to finish in their correct position of ninth and the crafty Loan Ranger uses some of the transfer fee to pay off Cheery John and send him on his honest way. Tyson is then persuaded back as player-manager and he leads the team to triumph in 2006-07, while getting the Stranglers to perform an open air gig at the athletics track at the top of Marlow Hill.

If they take away our dreams then all that's left is a blood-soaked pillow.

Mince Pie Iced Gems

A professional win against Swindon Town in the Drone Cup in midweek left Honest John purring. Going back to your old employers and whacking one off in their faces is always a morale-booster and it was no surprise to see Decent John on his knees at the final whistle, tears of joy rolling down his plump cheeks.

Someone certainly had a clammy moustache on that summer's evening.

Sadly, it appears that the reward for Wycombe's morally dangerous journey into hellish Wiltshire was a paltry second round tie with Aston Villa. The two sides seem to play each other every season and it is only weeks since the IRA-hating Birmingham folk were lounging at Adams Park for a pre-season friendly.

It may be a Premiership tie but in truth there's as much glamour in a trough of pig swill. The gate will struggle to break 6,000 and Wycombe will lose 3-1. The Drone Cup offers the football supporter nothing anymore and if Positive John plays anything but a team of apprentices then he should be summoned by the Loan Ranger and sacked on the spot.

"Even heroes sniff knickers".

Barbarism Begins At Home

Back from the Falklands with nothing more than fading memories and a worn elbow, SMBU staff are fatigued from the long trip and a quick peek at the world of Wycombe Wanderers only makes the tiredness more acute.

Unbeaten after four game, goals flowing like dogs' blood and football slicker than a seal's anus. Well, that's all well and good but the bitter bubbling taste in the spleen cannot be disguised by branston pickle or peas.

For many in the horror-ranks of the Drone Army, the crimes of 29/7 are now ancient history, and they can wave their foam hands as the goals rain home. But for a select few, the ones with a conscience, any success that comes from the PLC will always be brackish. Not unless quack director Harold Kane comes up with a memory loss herb will anyone at the Meat Clinic forget the duplicity and lies that got WWFC to where they are today.

Trying to enjoy this season will be hard. The emotions felt will be those of a small child who sees his mother killed by another woman who then marries the widowed husband. This woman may be a gourmet chef but any fancy dinner she cooks will taste filthy bad.

Cuyahoga

The Meat Clinic staff are disappearing on their annual summer holiday to the Helsinki Gristle Festival over the next ten days, so updates could be rarer than a Wycombe Wanderers overdraft cancellation.

Suffice to say, the opening of this season is fraught with problems. The signing of a few crocks and OAPs has led the Drone Army to predict yet another glorious new era, and if it goes wrong there's going to be a lot of people crying into their rolling bellies. What they fail to take into account is that the defence has not been strengthened, and it was an inability to keep clean sheets which cost the club a place in the play-offs last season.

The Loan Ranger has pumped his wedge into the club but anyone who gives that much is going to want some return. Is Honest John the right man for the job? The evidence suggests not, yet he enjoys a slavish following of similar love-levels to that of Cliff Richard or Gandhi.

Something simply has to give, sooner or later.

29/7 has gone by for another year but the scars will never heal. The stench of that day billows into the summer haze as the forces of good mass for a future fight.