West Ham Till I Die
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The Mike Ireson Column

Homemade Shortbread

Firstly I’d like to apologise to Iain. As a regular contributor to this site for the last couple of seasons I haven’t been pulling my weight recently. A combination of workload and domestic commitments has left me devoid of time to do several things, including trying to write something coherent and readable here.

I’ve always considered it a true privilege to be able to write for this site and, along with giving myself a slap to actively make more time to help preserve this wonderful portal of all things claret and blue, I’d like to support Iain’s call to arms for new writers.

There is a very dedicated band of passionate, loyal, opinionated, funny people lurking in the comments section (and people who just read) who I for one would love to read more of.

Yes it is a bit daunting. There isn’t one piece that I have submitted that I haven’t thought “god is this good enough?/will people think I’m talking s##t”. But afterwards when it is up there in black and white for all to read you realise that as long as you have remembered where the spell check button is and you haven’t written one paragraph of 500 words that everything is fine.

This is not a news site, it is an opinion site. There are no wrong opinions.

I was a long time reader here and always thought, you know what, I reckon I could have a crack at writing some stuff. And after blustering for far too long I’m so glad I threw my hat in the ring. So if you’re thinking the same thing, then do it.

It is not always easy, the point I was actually going to write about 287 words ago is that everything has gone a bit beige.

Last season was a belter. A new manager, a surprising upturn in fortunes on the field, beating all the big boys, saying farewell to our home, the rise of a new superstar. The season progressed at what felt like 100mph.

This season we started life in new surroundings, had a massive dip in form, flirted with the relegation zone before Christmas, lost the aforementioned superstar, dragged ourselves up to mid table.

And that is where we find ourselves now. Entrenched in the beige alternate reality that is mid table. It is highly likely we will finish the season somewhere between 9th and 11th. We seem to be free of any drama and it has all gone a bit One Show. Bland, poodling along at a very safe 26mph in a 30 zone.

For the last season and a half we’ve been racing round Silverstone at breakneck speed, the g-force distorting our lovely features, twisting and turning through the chicanes, not quite certain what is coming up next.

Now we are on that straight country road. Bimbling along admiring the scenery, making a vow that we’re going to make that lovely oldie worldy pub we’ve just driven past our local by moving out this way.

Look at that tea shop, isn’t it lovely, I bet they do lovely homemade shortbread.

This is what it is like to be a Stoke fan every season.

That was my 530 words – where’s yours?

COYI

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