‘Like a feller once said, ain’t that a kick in the head?’. Once said by Dean Martin, and more recently by Petr Cech, it couldn’t be more relevant to good old Swindon Town. In fact, Ince leaving was a kick in the head. When Wise left, he made a new quote.

‘Call that a kick in the head? Now THIS is a kick in the head!’

Oooh deary deary me. I feel like an old war veteran, whose good days are long gone and never really existed. All we could really do was take aimless potshots at glory, never really hitting true and all too aware that soon we’d be asked by yet another glory-seeking manager to dig ourselves out of our trenches only to be mowed down by the machine gun of relegation. Argh. The Red Army fails again.

But now down to facts. I couldn’t give a report last week from the game at Shrewsbury’s Gay Meadow But we won 2-1! A nice little tap in for Big Fola and then a home-grown nuke from Aaron Brown to finish the game off.

So I was feeling fine. Not in the ‘Dancing in the Rain’ heel-clicking sense, sure. But feeling good.

But, as is any fan’s want when a good player leaves a club, I found myself hating Paul Ince.

I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s because started seeing other people behind Swindon’s back. Maybe it’s because he never really loved us. Maybe it’s because when it came down to it, he was rubbish in bed. I mean on pitch.

So I felt great when, after proclaiming that he would lead Macclesfield to the premiership, (Yes, I was laughing like a hyena in a comedy club too) The Governor’s new team lost 3-2 to Mansfield. Ah, the blissfully malicious relief.

So now on to the main catastrophe. Wise and Poyet have packed up and p****d off. Our saviour has left us. It’s like Jesus Christ saying ‘You know what, guys? I prefer Allah.’

And I was more than a little annoyed when Leeds won. Very much more.

And so we finally get down to our own predicament. Any Swindon fan will give it to you as straight as a ruler, but I’m going to meander around and around the point and never really get down to the nitty gritty. To make myself feel better. Oh, I can’t be bothered.

We’re scuppered. Really scuppered. Wise was the best thing that happened to us in a long time, and thanks to our poor defeat at the County Ground, I can’t see any real chance of us even making the playoffs. At the start of the season we were tipped to take back our rightful place in League One, and so we should have been. Valuable players left us, like Stephani Miglioranzi and Sean O’Hanlon. But I believed, even if the downbeat Swindon following didn’t.

And now look. Our dream manager has left, taking a few staff with him. We’re left with a few candidates, none better than a wild turkey; big and red-faced with few ideas, but plenty of meat if the paparazzi ever need a snack.

So now I’ve got to conclude everything. Wrap everything all up into a pile. Brilliant. Why don’t you go look in a refuse heap? You might find a bit more optimism.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 30th, 2006 at 9:45 am and is filed under Swindon Town. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.