Redray

We were superb going forward. fragile defensively. The opponents scored with virtually all efforts they had, it just happens sometimes.

That is not funny at this particular moment.

Panic, tension, nerves, apprehension.. call it what you will be it was definitely responsible for what appeared to be fannying about. Still can't believe what happened last night.

It just seems to be blind panic whenever the ball is in or approaching our box. This is hardly a problem that the management are unable to resolve with a little attention to the problem.

Yes. Is Phil Boersma available?

He's just done it again! Brilliant http://z13.invisionfree.com/goonersweb/ind...showtopic=38662 Big Sam's diary. As imagined. With a doffed cap to David Peace. Training. Training my Blackburn squad. We’re pushing, pushing hard for 13th place. Big Sam. Our Phil from Hull. Phil. Wonderful Phil. And the new lad at Pompey. Us, three Musketeers. No. Too French. Three Amigos. No. Too Italian. Three crusaders. Better. Pushing for 13th. Tight. Too tight. I need signings. Signings like only Big Sam can make. British steel. British talent. Jay-Jay. Jussi. Ivan. Bernard. Stars. Stars, the lot of 'em. But Big Sam is angry. Big Sam is upset. Eight months. Eight months I’ve been looking. Looking for him. Looking for the one. The one who I signed on the dotted line for. The dotted line of Big Sam’s latest contract. The Blonde. The player that sums up Big Sam. Robbie. Robbie Savage. The player’s player. Eight months. Eight long, drawn out months. Searching, searching high and low. Calling. Coaxing. Is he in the showers? ‘No’ says El Hadji. Is he in the physio room? ‘No’ says Ryan. Is he out on t’pitches? Practising? Practising his free kicks. Practising his penalties. ‘No’ says Brett. Then, after eight months. Eight long, precious, Robbie-less months. Big Sam hears. ‘Brighton Gaffer!’ Brighton?! What’s Brighton? Who is Brighton? Where does he play? Sounds English. Our Craig is ready. Pen in hand. Calculator out. ‘No’ says Stephen. ‘Robbie’s at Brighton. It’s down south.’ Down south?! I’m sick. Physically sick. Our Craig – good lad my Craig – fetches my brown paper bag. I’m sick. I’m sick to my stomach. Robbie. My Robbie. My hope. My playmaker. Down south. There’s no hope. ‘Gays’ says our Craig. ‘Lots of gays down there in that there Brighton.’ Craig wakes me. Says I fainted. The training goes well. Paul. England’s number one ‘keeper. Paul is a marvel. The lads. My lads. Big Sam’s lads. They’ve swapped the balls with Easter eggs. Easter eggs on sale at Asda. Paul is catching every one. England beckons. Blackburn’s Paul. Big Sam’s Paul. England’s number one again. Put on me Blue Tooth. Nike on Speed-Dial. Will they change the Premiership ball? Hook up with Cadbury? ‘No’. No says Nike. I spit. I spit out my gum. Foreigners. Scuppering England. My England. Fabio. At my desk. Should have been my desk. My gum. My last gum. Stuck on the floor. Stuck on the floor of a Portakabin in Blackburn. Irony. Irony they call it. No more gum. I send our Craig to Mr Asiv’s round t’corner. Our Craig. Out on his own. I give him some petty cash from t’drawer. Let him keep his ten percent mind. Look after family. Disaster! Disaster strikes Big Sam. The flavour. My flavour. Big Sam’s flavour. Sold out! Our Phil has bought the last pack. Our Phil who came over to show off his Blue Tooth. He’s bought my gum. ‘No sour grape left Dad’ comes our Craig round t’corner, ‘It’s all gone.’ Disaster. I console the boy. Yes. Yes, you can keep that ten percent lad. I phone Arsene Wenger. Arsene Wenger. Sat in that training ground. All curves and corners. Like Paris I dare say. Arsene puts me on hold. Talking to Gilles. Gilles?! Big Sam is angry. Angry at being on hold. Arsene, on his phone. Sat in his office. In his training ground. Probably sunny down there too. No good. Credit running low. Big Sam doesn’t need his advice. His sports’ nutrition advice. His advice is of no use to Big Sam now. I send our Craig back to Mr Asiv’s. Five pounds credit. Ten percent for our Craig. I phone Sir Alex. I take notes. Knight of t’relm. Hero. Idol. Martyr. I note it down. Pining. Straining. I listen. I note. Hovis. Check. Dripping. Check. Vimto. Check. Done. Done and dusted. 13th is ours. I won’t tell our Phil mind. Phil has Kia-Ora. Kia-Ora. Too orangey for crows. Too orangey for crows apparently. I tell our Phil that he needs to cut down. Cut down on those tanning salons. Not right. Not at Bolton I told him then. No salons at Bolton. Met Robbie in a salon though. That’s when he left. My Phil. Gone. To Hull. Hurt. Sorrow. Reconciliation. The Kia-Ora is too orangey for crows. Right. Right I tell him. Crows. Crows, bleak, circling. Looking for the weak. The disabled. The dead. There’ll not find that here. Not at Big Sam’s Blackburn. We’re alive. We’re alive and well. We’ve got 13th to fight for. Switch off lights. No change from t’meter. The phone hasn’t rung. The phone hasn’t rung again. The red phone our Craig installed. The red phone our Craig installed last year. The phone linked direct to t’FA. It’s not rung. It’s not rung again. That job were mine. Too big. Too big for t’job. Capello. Italian. Managing my England. Big Sam’s England. Not right is that. Blue Tooth bleeps. Bleeping that Phil, our Phil is calling. Can he take me to see Kightly? Kightly. Big Mick’s lad, down t’road at Wolves. English. English lad. Next Beckham. Next English Beckham. ‘No’ says I. Big Sam is off. Big Sam is scouting with our Craig. Craig is next to me in t’car. A Rover. British. A British motor. A lovely big British motor. Our Craig is checking. Checking flights. Checking tickets. Checking passports. Checking he’s packed the scotch eggs. Checking for holes in t’roads. Four thousand. Four thousand holes in t’road they say. Flight’s booked. Bag’s packed. Ginster’s in glove compartment. Donetsk. Ukraine. Brazilian lad. Jadson. Do well. Do well up north. Have to move Dunny along though.

So you're saying he sleeps with his nieces as well!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/merseyside/8001243.stm Culture Secretary Andy Burnham has called for a "full disclosure" of all evidence on the Hillsborough Disaster in which 96 Liverpool fans died. The victims were crushed to death during Liverpool's FA Cup tie with Nottingham Forest on 15 April 1989. Mr Burnham made his comments after being heckled by angry fans at an emotional memorial service at Anfield on the 20th anniversary of the tragedy. The families are still fighting for a full inquiry into the disaster. On the day of the tragedy, Liverpool supporters were in the Leppings Lane of the Sheffield stadium. South Yorkshire Police, which oversaw the event, opened a large exit gate which forced too many Liverpool fans on to the terrace, leaving the fans inside trapped between people entering the ground and the metal fences at the front of the stand. During the memorial service on Wednesday, fans chanted "Justice for the 96" during Mr Burnham's speech. Mr Burnham, Secretary for Culture, Media and Sport, said: "If there is further information held by public bodies relevant to the tragedy that has not yet been published then it should be. "I believe now the public interest lies very clearly in full disclosure of all such information, so that the families and others can make their judgement on all the facts." The Hillsborough Families Support Group have led a two-decade long campaign to have the events which led to the deaths fully investigated, despite previous inquiries. At the service, attended by 25,000 people, Trevor Hicks, the former chairman of the group, vowed the fight for justice would continue. As he address the mourning fans, he added: "Still together, still determined, still resolved as ever that the truth will defeat the lies and propaganda." The government minster, a life-long Everton fan, recalled hearing of the rival team's tragedy at Hillsborough while attending Everton's FA Cup tie on the same day.

A thoroughly good pasting, to knock further the already bruised confidence.

fecking spawny little b******s!

quality stream here of Sunderland match; http://www.veetle.com/viewChannel.php?cid=49dd52c1ec520

Masch Insua Alonso

Best at that since Emlyn Hughes.

They were s**** again. Let in a sloppy late goal after being battered in the first half. They are scarred and probably knackered. Dead in the water. Win our games and it's ours.

Maybe this? 1) The last time we did a double over both Man. Utd and Chelsea was 1990. 2) Also the last time we had a grey away strip 2) That same season in which we also drew 10 games !! 3) The last time Man United had such a commanding lead and lost the title was in 1998. On March 14th 1998 their biggest rivals Arsenal defeated them at Old Trafford and went on to win the league.

He's not really that bothered, despite what he says. Probably prefers it TBH.

He got it wrong. He said 5-1

Fellani's new hair do? I thought that was last week?

Why watch it mate? Probably the most nauseating programme on the box.

http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/11_0...onR_468x298.jpg

Agreed, But would add that Zamora should also have walked for that.

..and we wait to see what action the FA take over the Dowd remark?!

huge dividends. look at this s**** from Ferguson when speaking to sky (yes he did today) "Scholes' dismissal for the penalty had seemed a fair call by the referee, but Ferguson has cast doubt over the decision by noting that the midfielder was little more than a yard from the header when it was made by Bobby Zamora. "It's close to him so he could have easily not given it, but it's Phil Dowd so what do you expect?" Ferguson remarked. "The second one I have to say, did he (Rooney) throw the ball at the referee? The ball was thrown direct to where the free-kick was taken and did it hit the referee? No, the ball didn't hit the referee. "Was it thrown in anger? Yes, because he wanted the game hurried up, he threw with pace to get the game going."

Hmm. All sounds a bit dubious to me. Reading between the lines, I think he's off.

Bah!