The infamous GT ‘Deirdre Rachid’ programme notes.
Over three years, I have tried my very hardest to come up with bizarre and unexpected approaches to writing about twenty-two men and a lump of inflated cow. It hasn’t been easy but I’m deeply proud of some of my more adventurous detours from the point in hand (Exhibit A: “The Accordian Player”).
I have, however, been kidding myself. It has recently become clear that, when it comes to stretching metaphors to absurd lengths and littering otherwise lucid comment with utterly irrelevant drivel, I am just a humble apprentice. Graham Taylor is the master. (Exhibit B: “Deirdre Rachid”.) Lord help us if he ever decides to write his autobiography….
This long, long season is set for a joyful finale. To be honest, as someone who didn’t even predict us to make the playoffs, I could be more bothered about the Championship. Barring absolute catastrophe, we’ve achieved our aims. As “Clap Your Hands” have eloquently put it, “The title would be the cherry on the cake…but we want the cake first.”