Electric Blues

Technically, it's punctuation. This one's going to penalties.

Indeed - subject, of course, to said football being slightly less pish than last season, otherwise all this patter will seem like blue-remembered hills by comparisons.

We've talked about goals, and we've talked about hopes, but my dream would be that all the new signings gel immediately. We win our first five games and then the momentum and confidence carry us on a Leicester-like run to the top of the table. The culmination of this dream would see Celtic coming to Fir Park for the first post-split fixture, 14 points behind after we've pumped them three times already, and shitting themselves as total underdogs. Needless to say, we horse them 5-0 to take the title, and go on to lift the Cup a month later after beating Rangers by a similar margin. And then the little boy woke up...

I reckon they'll come on separately for maximum man-love.

Faddy to come on at 3-0, or 0-3, or 85 mins, whichever comes first.

And it's really appreciated, thanks!

Eats, shoots, and leaves.

On a plastic pitch, though? It's just not cricket.

There may be no legal, or even moral case to answer, but this still makes them cheating cunts in my book.

There's still a long, fraught week ahead, but for now I'm halfway to blootered already and on all too rare high. COYW.

Funnily enough, I'm the exact opposite. The all-too-rare wins are quite quickly forgotten, but my wife can tell up to three days later by my sour puss when we've suffered another defeat. I would no longer walk a million miles for one of our goals, but having said that, I'd sacrifice my first-born for a scrappy 1-0 win tonight.

According to the BBC feed they played "Kung Fu Fighting" over the tannoy at half time. Well played, Hamilton DJ, well played.

Robinson had only been back a few days when when McGhee got hoofed. In all fairness, what else were they going to do? Would you have given him the gig there and then?

This is always the risk when you don't get a single fucking shot on target yourselves. Again.

I'm even looking forward to the "Man of the Match" poll later too. Sad, or what?

Remember when we were already champions and we beat them on the last day at Tynecastle to keep them down? It was the well worth the ride home on the windowless bus afterwards.

There is no possible scenario where that baw heided ginger Judas is the answer, although I'll revisit that opinion if Maurice Malpas applies.

"14 wins, 19 defeats and only 3 draws," http://www.motherwellfc.co.uk/2017/02/19/roger-hynd-1942-2017/ I vaguely recall a headline about "The Golden Hynd", right before the wheels came off.

He punched me in the gut a few times too, supposedly to "toughen me up". I'm sure HE thought it was a good laugh.

Really? I'm glad HE thinks it's fucking funny.

Hey, pal, want to buy a bridge?

What a brilliant advert for Scottish football, eh? A supposed top six contender getting humped by the team that's sitting 24 points behind the team that lost to Lincoln Red Imps. Fucking double fuck.

Given the scoreline I'd assumed we were playing with 9 up front - until I saw that we've managed just one shot so far - and off-target at that. Fucking fuck.

Remember this roaster at Aberdeen?

Good work, CoF. Now, if only there were stats that reflected how many games we SHOULD have won (or at least not lost) we'd be a lot further up those tables.