The Diary

17 October 2003: GM Ecology-Destroyer - Official!

I have to say there was some great stuff greeting me when I picked up today?s newspapers this morning. ?GM FACES BAN FOR DAMAGING WILDLIFE!? roared the banner headlines. Ooer ? what had our manager been up to now, I wondered. Of course, the story had nothing whatsoever to with the notoriously-short fuse that passes for our gaffer?s tolerance-span, but was more concerned with the long-awaited results of the field trials of genetically-modified wheat, sugar-beet, and oilseed rape conducted in various countryside locations over the past few months. Still, the headlines did get me chuckling merrily over my cornflakes ? the delicious mental image of our furious manager rampaging wholesale over Farmer Giles?s lovingly-planted fields, with terrified insects and small animals running in all directions for dear life, did have its moments - and certainly made a change from the usual gloom, doom and deviously-contrived political machinations that make up life in GB plc these days. More, I say, more!

Enough of all this levity and back to the business in hand, which is getting the good ship Albion back on course once more after that unscheduled Warnock-inspired grounding last Tuesday night. As I said before, tomorrow?s game ain?t going to be easy, what with the Norfolk club being in the top-six themselves, and them being on something of a roll. That midweek 1-1 result against West Ham at their place shows they?re no mugs, and anyone who?s got Darren Huckerby in their side has to command some respect. Yes, I know the word on the streets is Darren is fifty-fifty for tomorrow?s encounter, but is that only a bit of ?head-ology? on the past of their gaffer? Two can play our manager?s game. As for the other half of the striking bargain, mobile-lamp-post, and part-time lightning conductor Peter Crouch, I?ll reserve judgement on that one until after the cessation of tomorrow?s hostilities. Certainly, when in claret-and-spew colours last season during our reserve encounter with them, he managed to get on the score-sheet, but that was more to do with our inability to hang on to a two-goal lead than any vestige of talent on the part of their resident string-bean.

To be honest, what with Norwich having Delia Smith in their boardroom, perhaps we ought to be looking towards taking them on in the kitchen, and not the field of play? I can just picture it now; Lee Hughes slaving furiously over a viciously-bubbling Balti with a yield of around 5-megatons, and a lethal-radius the size of Brum, Jason Koumas getting really stuck into the creation of a delicately-flavoured sauce (an accompaniment to roasted Canary, perhaps?), and James O?Connor carefully saut?ing the ingredients for a huge quantity of rib-sticking Irish stew. And Clem gathering all the raw materials together, then passing them to Sakiri, who quickly and efficiently distributes them all around the various parts of the kitchen for Lee and Co to convert into the finished product.

But who would be a worthy arbiter for such a vitally-important cook-off? Not Michael Winner, the famously hard-to-please Sunday Times food critic, surely? Maybe Gordon Ramsay should be designated the judge? Being an ex-footballer himself, he?d be in a unique position to pronounce on the culinary efforts of our finest, though his somewhat colourful turn of language might prove to be an obstacle too many for some. At least there would be entertainment galore for our followers. Following proceedings intently from the sidelines, no doubt the participants would be treated to great cries of, ?Stick sum mower cowin? chilli powder innit, Lee!?, or ?Cum on, Megson, we need sum bluddy finely-chopped fresh oregano in that lot, not stinkin? rotten dried rosemary!? Oooh, it?s a lovely concept to contemplate, but if I do, I?ll be accused of not treating the beautiful game with the respect it deserves ? stoppit immediately!

Ahem, now where was I? Oh, yes. Tomorrow?s game. It?s looking very much as though Meggo?s going to nail his colours (and his faith) to the goalscoring mast of Rob Hulse, with added support provided by Scott Dobie, although it seemed to me on Tuesday night he was well-bottled-up by Warnock?s little helpers. Perhaps he might plump for Hughsie to make a start instead? When brought on for the second half of Tuesday?s game, he went awfully close with that header; their keeper did bloody well to tip it over the bar, and the fact he scored versus Everton?s second-string a couple of days ago might well tip the scales in the favour of his inclusion. The trouble with Hughsie is, he?s very much a ?confidence player?. Should he manage to bang the bladder in the bin with panache, then he?ll suddenly turn smokin? hot, and whoever is designated to mark him will have a torrid time of it for the remainder of the game; conversely, should his goal-seeking abilities be sent plummeting for one reason or another, his head will drop, and his form will suffer accordingly. The main doubt for tomorrow is Sakiri, who apparently (and unfortunately) took a knock versus Everton. Totally out of it, of course, is AJ, who is on the second third of that ridiculous suspension for something only the referee managed to see versus Stoke. My verdict? Yes, I know, I crashed in flames quite spectacularly on Tuesday night, but my instincts - and vote - goes for a draw, specifically, a one-one variety of the species.

And finally?? One. Although of the usual length, this entry has taken me about two times longer to compile than the norm. Not because of a paucity of subject-matter, I hasten to add; it?s just that my other half has today installed an amusing bit of software onto Word, the ?labour ward? for this column. It comprises a small ginger cat, who helpfully miaows and purrs as appropriate when one is, say, saving articles, or spell-checking them. The result is, my four resident moggies are now all totally confused, and are currently sniffing my speakers like mad for sight of the strange cat that?s suddenly come into their lives. Hilarious to watch, but then again, I?m frequently told I?m easily-amused!

Two. And now for the serious bit. I?ve always intended this column to be primarily a celebration of Baggies supporters as one big (fairly-happy) family, rather than merely a straightforward match-report et cetera, and in keeping with this policy, I today decided to include as a separate entry (see additional piece), an obituary for a recently-deceased Baggie, Johnny Asson. It is primarily an appreciation of his life and times as a supporter, and I?m firmly convinced a lot of other ?family members? who subscribe to this diary can relate quite readily to this. The words aren?t mine, they?re those of fellow-Baggie Stuart Tigwin, who was a friend; I?ve merely edited them slightly for spelling etc.. This is a concept I?d like to explore more deeply, and if anyone else out there should wish in future to record the supporting history of recently-lost loved ones, send me the details, and I?ll oblige again, as a separate piece for the ?Boing? website, and also for The Dick proper, although I won't dispatch same to private indivduals, unless specifically-requested.

 - Glynis Wright

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