I love the smell of 3 CL points in the morning. €2.2m Isn’t exactly a pickled egg fart either.
And the other source of joy after last night, is finding out how much my bluenose pal lost at the bookies, backing the Saxons. Whatever he admits, I treble it. He will be fucking spewing. He would have watched it. It would have made him sink as low down as I soared skyward. That makes me happy. I haven’t texted him yet. I bet he can’t wait to receive it. I will be there far him, as he struggles on through a tunnel of perpetual darkness, up to his knees in shit. And it’s just gonny get worse for him, and those similarly afflicted. Money in the bank to move up another level in January too. Three players, £10m-£12m clearly talented and we move another step up.