Fulham - Food for Thought!

On Saturday, any fears I had about Franck Queudrue inflicting a mortal blow on our survival hopes were vanquished when the aforementioned chap seemed more intent on assisting us with some wayward defending rather than twisting the knife.

However, I have to admit that the affliction I owned up to continues to plague me.

Last night I had a strange experience.

I`d just witnessed a blue shirted player hammer home a spectacular thirty yard strike and wheel away in celebration. I could see crest fallen, white shirted players slumped on their haunches, tears in their eyes knowing that they were beaten.

I could hear the stadium announcer gleefully announcing that there was to be only one minute of stoppage time; the crowd were taunting the crestfallen with chants of,

"Going Down, Going Down, Going Down"

Then I could hear that damned bell being rung by the home faithful and it dawned on me, I was at Fratton Park, the player scoring had been none other than our old friend Papa Bouba Diop, we were on the brink of relegation.

Sitting nervously in my seat I waited anxiously for the other scores to filter through on the radio I was listening to,

Derby 0 Reading 2 - aaahhh!

Birmingham 1 Blackburn 0 - aaahhh!

Well not really, in previous dreams I`ve made passionate love to many a beautiful woman, I`ve won the Lottery and I`ve won the Football Pools but in real life - sod all like that has ever happened!

Dreams are just dreams are they not?