Superabundance

Here in the Meat Clinic spring is coming and we’re trawling around the central Bucks fields at night with infra-red pistols, picking out the lambs we’re going to slaughter with venom. Did they ask to be killed? Yes they did, their arrogant faces mew with desire for a 12-bore in the muzzle. Spring also means the football season heats up like a can of condensed milk chucked on an open fire with cans of Lynx.

A Wanderers promotion charge from the bottom division with fans in open revolt about whether a veteran midfielder can do the business. No, not 2008 but 1994, and not the mistrusted Paul SpringLamb in charge but the idolised Martin O’Neill. The veteran schemer in question is Nicky Reid and a midfield dripping with players such as Brown, Cusack, Thompson, Ryan and Stapleton comes a man no-one thinks we need.

But he played at Wembley and Reid is woven into the fabric of the club, even if it’s a small nametag on a t-shirt not worn anymore because of staining. Wycombe’s forthcoming fixtures are steeper than Brill Hill and with popular icons such as Bloomfield and Torres weeping on the sidelines with bone knocks, that man Neil Lennon could just get us over the finish line.

So tonight let even the most squawking of drone, the most rabid of Englishman, the most clammy of middle-managers get behind all eleven of the Wycombe players. This is the start of the run-in, this is no time to get all Zola Budd.

11.03.2008. 12:17

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