I Can Hear Your Heart

So Jonny Dixon has signed for Brighton from Aldershot, one of what must be nearly 100,000 WWFC youth products who, after being deemed not good enough by men in stained tracksuits at Adams Park, have made the grade elsewhere.

It’s not like the sane Wycombe fans (dwindling but handsome) could not see that Dixon was good enough. His debut spell was the one bright spot in the grim latter days of Len Sanchez, but manager after manager, from the Moaning Mexican to Lambert, via Adams and Scotch John, refused to give him the chance he deserved.

It seems the affluent nature of south Bucks grips every single manager at Wycombe and they hate to see their team made up of home grown talent from the vegetable patch. Instead they want a whip round Waitrose and even if it’s Drewe Broughton, John Sutton, Gavin Holligan or Drew Carey, as long as they come from outside the club then everything’s ok. The manager’s done his job.

China-hating coach Richard Hill once remarked that as long as he had a hole in his arse, Martin Rowlands would not make a professional footballer. It was the second biggest mistake of his career. I feel much more confident in saying that as long as I defecate proudly in the bushes and hedges of Long Crendon, Wycombe will never give youth a chance.

And if anyone thinks of muttering “Roger Johnson” in the club’s defence, please go and mop up Lewis Christon’s tears first. He’s over by the statue of Anthony Clark, weeping like a hen.

30.01.2008. 23:54

Write a comment