Listening to: Takk... (Sigur Ros)
Birdwatch: Wheatears fluttering up and down the lane
Sorry: I'm banging on about sport again
Football - or, more accurately, Wolverhampton Wanderers - has been a part of my life for just about as long as I can remember.
Like anyone who supports a club whose best days are behind them (Wolves' seemed to end the moment I was born), I've had my fair share of heartache. I haven't been to a game for the best part of three years, so results come and go with little more than a philosophical shrug. Regular readers will have gathered I much prefer rugby these days.
But once in a while the chaps put a great big smile on the pig "farmer's" face. 5-1? 5bloody1? Not only that, but top of the league. I know we're only four games into the season, but isn't this the best time to top the Championship? Glory while the weather's still good and plenty of time (42 games) to escape promotion to the bathtub of pirhana fish that is the English Premiership*.
One small snag. The 5-1 happened to be at the expense of Nottingham Forest - favourite team of my dear pal Reg Pither. Took the shine off it a bit. I feel for him (yeah, I know that's a bit patronising, but I do, so there) not just because his lot got thwacked, but also because he lives in. . . Wolverhampton. Saturday night in the pub must have been fun.
I sent Reg what I hoped was a light-hearted text, but I've had no reply so can only assume he's wisely gone to ground. However, pictures have been released of his reaction at full-time. . .
Sorry mate, could happen to anyone - time to get those European Cup DVDs out and blot it all out, I think.
* I've come to the conclusion that the winners of the Championship should be allowed to be promoted into the league of their choice. Portugal anyone?