Sunday, Bloody Sunday. Part 3
Well, can things get much worse?
My beloved team are making the weekends, and the week days, a sombre place to be in the Worbo household.
I was hoping against hope that today Sunday 6th May, would be a happy day.
A day when I could get the missus out of bed nice and early and take her on that little shopping trip that I had promised her.
Not a chance, I am going to wallow in self pity, I am going to curse that once again I have been let down.
Yesterday the lads put the effort in, they, in the words of Paul Jewell, huffed and puffed.
If I was out there yesterday I would have huffed and puffed, that`s not the answer.
We need quality, commitment and desire.
For most of this season we`ve had none of the above. We deserve to be where we are and where we will be next season.
I am a very positive person, really I am, but this sense of gloom at the weekends is turning me into an old man, a Victor Meldrew.
Now we go to Sheffield United to try and win, hoping that other results will also go our way, one last shot as we hang on with our finger nails to the dream.
I don`t hold out any expectations, bar the fact that I am about to have a summer of Sunday, Bloody Sundays.
A depression is settling in over my part of Wigan and it may be a long time before it is lifted.
See you next week for Sunday, Bloody Sunday part 4
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