A fan's-eye view from Ewood Park, with Phil Lloyd
I HAVE a terrible admission to make. I'm becoming a Manchester United fan.
But before you start demanding that this column be handed over to someone more loyal to the blue-and-white cause, let me explain.
Despite three depressing, spineless performances in eight miserable February days, I'm not abandoning Brian Kidd now.
It's a bit late to become a glory-hunter after 38 years as a Rovers fan! Nor is it to do with supporting United as our Euro-representatives against Inter Milan tomorrow.
No, there are times when the traditional antipathy to all things Red has to be sacrificed - on a strictly temporary basis you understand - on the altar of sheer, undisguised self-interest.
I've missed the United home fixture once before. While Shearer was burying two goals past a flat-footed Great Dane, I was rubbing the sleep from my eyes in New Zealand, trying desperately to find a commentary on BBC World Service.
It's nice having the video now, but I'd rather have witnessed personally our only Premiership triumph over those inflated Old Trafford egos. Fact is, on April 10th, when the United game is currently scheduled, I've an engagement with an aeroplane and sadly have had to dismiss wild thoughts of hi-jacking the flight and parachuting into my seat in the WalkerSteel Stand just before 3pm. Plan B was progressing well until last week. If Rovers could reach the FA Cup semi-finals timetabled for April 11th, then my problem would be a problem no more! Now, after the Magpies flew away having stolen our cup ambitions, my only hope is United.
So next Sunday, for one day only, I'll be a United fan, hoping fervently that they can overturn Vialli's foreign legion. Come Monday (barring a replay, of course), my litmus paper will revert to blue, permanently.
Over the past week, two questions have gnawed at me. First, why are Rovers so incompetent in the Cup at home? It's appalling that in each of the last six seasons, we've gone out at Ewood (so much for 'the luck of the draw'!).
Second, given our current purchasing policy, why is it that Messrs Iversen, Rudi, Saha and Di Canio can knock goals in against our defence while our (British) strikers seem unable to knock the skin off the visiting keeper's rice pudding?
Mr Kidd, the natives are getting restless.
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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