Bradford.
York City.
Wrexham.
Was this the worst cup defeat ever?
This is a performance which, frankly, neither needs nor deserves any kind of a write up. 78.4% possession. 566 passes. To what end?
The Fleetwood keeper had bugger all to do. How do the current Premier League champions, who less than a week ago went to the Ballon d’Or winners club and were well good enough for a draw, then took apart Everton in the manner of a sadistic 8-year-old pulling wings off a fly, essentially not lay a glove on a team 18th in the fourth division of English professional football, who have played more games than all but one of the 6 teams below them?
And I didn’t even go.
A thousand others braved foul weather and a Lord-Knows how many hours coach journey for this.
They’re the real victims here.
It was a pathetic performance with no redeeming features. And it is made worse by the brightest up and coming star in the English football firmament being forced out of the game away at Liverpool by yet another referee determined to be the star of the show, having sent off Dowman for less than a man, who earns a quarter of a million pounds a week and cuts his own hair with garden shears, did at the weekend.
Well done you, ref. Your parents must be so proud.
I’m not writing any more, as I have to go into town now to collect my Czech Korunas for next weeks CL away trip.
COYG.
Cheers CER. Someone had to write the ‘report’, I guess.
Enjoy Prague, should be a lot more enjoyable in so many ways!
I didn’t see the match, so I have nothing to add beyond what I said in the previous drinks.