Le Petit Merde United

I was thrown back to a dark day this week. No, not the day that Bryan Adams went to number one with Everything I do but that day when Le Petit Merde signed for the darkside.

Showing that our border controls are not tight enough he wandered back into the country to be inducted into the SFA Hall of Fame with Celtic Legends Maley, Delaney, Auld and Lambert.  Unsure why he was being inducted on the same day as them, surely they don't see him as a Celtic Legend?

We all know he is brazen hussy. That chapter of his life proved that he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as decent human beings and that he breathes air at all is a blemish on society. Still, it didn't stop him romanticising the moment he proved to the world that he had the morales of a sewer rat and a brain that looks like the inside of an elephants scrotum.

He said I signed for R*ngers in a pavement cafe in Paris. Only the Beast and Campbell Ogilivie were there. I think the Beast kept the pen. Sounds like a paragraph from a Catherine Cookson novel just before the stable boy takes the leading lady from behind in the hay shed.

Still, I suppose he has to paint pretty colours on what was the high point of his huns career. It was downhill as soon as he signed. He was hated by all Glesga and wound down his career at Falkirk and Hearts pissing on his reputation as a decent player as it went.

Showing less decency than a tramps vest means that his career is remembered for one damp patch on his chinos and not numerous medals and goals. 

The 80's. Big hair, shit music (discounting New Order, The Mary Chain and The Smiths) ZX Spectrums and Dundee Utd being a decent side despite being run by a dictator whose ways made North Korea blush. 

They were also an ugly bunch with lookers like McAlpine, Hegarty, Sturrock and Dodds raised  to keep weans away from fires. Some speak in hushed tones that those days are returning under the current favourite of the Scottish press.

This favourite has lost out on European places in the last two seasons to the joke that is Jimmy Calderwood. Sure he knows a player, it seems.

Damien Casalinovo is an Argentinian he found wander round Kirkcaldy looking for Raith and he already discovered failed Coming To America character Prince Bauben who instead of heading to Queens was found in Cowdenbeath.

This team from what I have seen of them is probably the least refined he has built. They seem to lack the football of previous incarnations but that has been replaced with more hard work and robustness.

Our previous encounter saw us go a goal behind then completely dominate play. If it wasn't for a wrongly disallowed goal and a not given penalty then we would have won the game at a canter, which is not something we have previously done for a few seasons.

We have a defensive crisis. Of course we have one when all our centre backs are fit but this crisis sees only Caldwell and Sloth from The Goonies, Josh Thompson to his mother, as an available pairing.

Out we have Loovens, Mick, Maloney, Brown and Boruc (whose national coach advised him to get back to his natural weight, which surely is double decker bus size?) and some are welcome absentees.

I'm calling for an extra man in the middle and defo starts for McGinn and Crosas. The lone striker role is one for MAF who is feeling good and it won't be long until he is back to normal as the masses wonder what his normal is.

No matter the delay Falkirk still leaves a bad taste and we need a reaction from the 11 Hoopy Heroes on the park.