I can confirm I am still extremely tinkled off with Sunday's second half meltdown...two weeks of scratching and biting and refusing to help the elderly across the road as i wallow in my sorrows....
And Liverpool next...the prospect of their front three ripping us a new crevice hole is likely to send me to an even darker place...
Something, something, upsetting the poor little petals who aren't mentally strong enough to cope with minor rejection.They always draw us back in with the darned hope. And why does Poch find it so hard to make subs before 70-ish minutes most games?