Happy New Year

So, it's a new year. A new decade. And a new era for Bolton Wanderers. I suppose I should explain my 4 month absence. I can't be arsed to, but I suppose I should. I didn't exactly forget about it. I just couldn't be arsed, to be Frank. In fact, I was re-reading my posts the other day. I always say if it makes just one person laugh, it matters. I usually omit the fact that it includes me. Anyway, I've now gone on to uni(versity) and studying Law at Leeds Met, or Leeds *cough* as I pronounce it. In fact, I've just moved back to Leeds after the Christmas holidays, having done ALL my work, bar a few things. *cough*.

There's a few things different from Leeds and Bolton. For one, the weather's better. When it rains in Bolton, it drizzles in Leeds. When it drizzles in Bolton, it probably drizzles a little bit of the time, rest of the time is sunny. It's also warmer. Boo. Call me old fashioned (or weird, your choice), but I prefer it a bit nippy and a bit drizzly. Which makes Bolton almost perfect. Another thing different is it's in Yorkshire. Them who came second in 1485. My history around the time of Henry VII has drastically improved since moving, ha. The final difference,
the fact it's nice to match the scowls with a reason. In Bolton, I have no idea why folk scowl at me. Here, it's because I'm a (I'll paraphrase) "Lancashire bastard". No, good Sir, I'll have you know I'm a Greater Manchester bastard. PS Bosworth > you. The mystery of why they seem to dislike me may just be solved.

Also, uni(versity) is far different (see: better) to sixth form. Rather than in sixth form where I hated most, if not all, of my lessons, my LLB (that's Law degree to you, not that I have a superiority syndrome) is actually bareable. The only problem that's arised is that my sleep patterns worse than ever now. Although I suspect that's far more self inflicted than before. But I would like to be up at about 8/9 tomorrow to get cracking on with assignment work.


It's all change at the Reebok, innit? The fans have got their wish and the evil, maniacal, shit-but-not-actually-as-bad-as-folk-say-if-you-think-about-it Gary Megson has been given the boot. I remember the Hull game like it was last week (what? it was? Shurrup, I'm on a roll). In the 90 minutes, there was 2 (that's TWO) Bolton songs. They were the Campo chant (but for Klasnic) and the Super John McGinlay chant (but for Super Kevin Davies). There were 4 (that's FOUR) Anti-Megson songs in the last 20 minutes alone. They were Time To Go, We Only Hate Gary Megson, You Don't Know What You're Doing, and of course, that hit single, Megson Out. Each louder than the last. In fact, I've not heard chants that loud since... well, I don't think ever. Even when Okocha scored THAT goal against West Ham. Even when Bobic scored THAT hattrick against Ipswich. Even when Anelka scored THAT winner against United. Which speaks volumes for our fans (see what I did there? DID YOU SEE?). Anywho, it seems Coyle's the man who's gonna replace "Mugson" (oh hahahahahaha please stop your wit is too much, what next, "Smegson"? hooo hahaha), bar a dramatic change of heart. I'm a bit cautious myself, what with the lack of experience. Although it seems to please the fans. Not sure how good that is, seeing as they want Alan Curbishley, who has the same media persona, the same negative tactics, the same attributes as Megson. Except he's Cockney and not ginger. But hey, most of them attributes are instilled in the great-oh-wait-he's-a-fat-knobber-but-wait-he's-almighty-again Sam Allardyce. So that pretty much rules out every reason Bolton fans have had against Megson. Except one: he's ginger. And I don't put that pettiness past any Bolton fan.


That was rather longer and rantier (I know it's not a word) than I'd anticipated. But ah, well. I blame Megson.

Stay classy interwebz.


They Call Him Rutman... bringing you New Years since 2010.