Well, I do hope everyone enjoyed the international break. It's such a welcome break from the grind of every day football, and is peppered with interesting games, quality and excitement. No, it's ****, isn't it. But thankfully we're back to actually interesting/depressing/proper/sad/happy/nonsense football this weekend with an early kick off in the Scar Tissue Derby. The big questions will be - are we going to be playing a different system? Will we play an adjusted style now we don't have a big guy up front to bounce the ball off? Who will take the 9 shirt? Who will be our next scapegoat? Will the crowd boo if we draw? Is Damion Downs a footballer? Can Jelert get a start? Why do I feel warm, fizzy feelings towards Jander? The ref will be hopeless, it's almost guaranteed, but will he be hopeless to our benefit. Our last poem leaned into Ross Stewart, but obviously did so a little bit too hard as it's clearly pinged his hamstring, so I don't want to go too big on someone we'd miss terribly this time around. So here's the latest instalment. It's called Dogswan. Dogswan, an ode. By Leslie Laces. The Swan, A neck. A brass neck to believe in victory. Behold the scars, Welted, wilted, gaslit by glistening hair. Passed amongst ourselves until apocalypse returns and fresh wounds bleed asunder. A goal, A dog in defence. The cry, wistful. "Hyena, Hyena" - his head a bristling statue. When a cross doth appear before his eye, Back away, back away. This cannot be stopped. Silence. The crowd dimmed again. Though a point has been made, a loss is felt. The hyena has no snap.
Oh man, I didn't know about the Snoop Dogg link. Opportunity missed (which is probably not the last time we say that on this thread).
We will win, lose or draw this....otherwise I will eat my head. 3-1 Saints after going 1 down. Arma, Fellows and Leo. Manning OG for them.
