Fox In Disguise

Hello.

I thought it was about time I reported in again.

Things have been gradually improving in my tempestuous love affair with the beautiful game.

And today I reached new heights.

I became a Fox in disguise.

I went to the Mad Stad to watch the boys live with three Royals fans.

So I found myself amongst the home supporters, surrounded by blue and white hoops.

The Foxes fans tantalisingly visible but not close enough to connect with.

I had prepared myself well, removing all traces of evidence to link me to the Leicester boys.

But I drew the line at jumping up when they scored one.

Two.

Three.

And I sat on me hands and bit my lips when we scored our consolation goal.

Lovely shape and movement and skills on the ball, but not enough pace or 'tiger' in the box.

Steve Howard helped them raise their game when he was subbed on, but it wasn't enough in the end.

I wonder what the Svenmeister will have to say about that?

Make 'Em Laugh!

Well done those Chelsea boys!

Yes I know those are not words you would usually expect to see writ large on this blog.

But you see, whilst I was away on my ... erm ... sabbatical, my secret interest in this lot has increased.

Not that I would ever betray my Foxes for them.

When we are playing them in the Prem next season, there is no doubt my loyalties will firmly behind Sven and the boys.

I have started to feel their pain though, which is somewhat worrying.

And excitement, now the ManUre have given them chance to close their lead at the top of the table.

I hope that puts a smile back on my boy's face.

I Ain't No Cinderella

I think my post must have gone astray.

Whatever other reason could there be for not having received my invitation to that wedding, when others have clearly received theirs.

'Spect you can look forward to something a bit more up market than pie and mash there David.

Not that I'm bitter you understand.

In fact I will be here .

Watching some of this maybe.

Let Posh go to the ball. I'll be having a groovy time of my own.

Who Banned All The Pies?

We're quite green around these parts.

Not green as in wet behind the ears.

But green as in environmentally aware.

So it has not come as a complete surprise that the owner of our local team, Forest Green Rovers, has unilaterally banned red meat from the diets of the players and fans when they are at the ground.

Although I have heard a rumour that Chelsea are considering improving their green credentials with a bit of recycling of their own.

Come On Baby Light My Fire

I've been sick girls.

Not in the conventional sense you understand.

Sick in my heart.

It started back in the summer, in June. My lover was kind and sympathetic as you would expect.

And I was in denial for a while. Then just got absorbed in a wave of negativity.

I was left wondering if football and I would ever love each other again.

So I sat. And waited. And hoped.

And eventually it happened.

Like all great love affairs there was a bond too strong to be broken.

And once again I find I have been seduced.

First of all slowly. The odd Foxes win here. A visit to Forest Green Rovers there.

And then this week, like lovers reunited after a long break, football and I finally jumped into bed together again.

Who could resist this? Or indeed this?