Stan feels rough. Rough as a badger's a*se if he's honest. Despite conclusive proof, after years of faux scientific testing, that Kingfisher lager should be avoided at all costs, Stan just laughed in face of such reasoning and quaffed more than was entirely necessary. Hence his delicate disposition on Sunday morning.
It's still washing the parts that other beers can't be bothered to reach even now…
The speed of consumption was obviously helped along considerably thanks to Russell's cracking injury time winner. Stan was in the mood to drink?. and then eat curry!
In retrospect it might have proved more entertaining between 3pm and 4.46pm if Stan had consumed the requisite amount of Kingfisher prior to the match. If we're all honest, it wasn't the greatest of spectacles was it?
The omission of Huck's seemed to dampen the mood somewhat right from the off. It was the one topic of conversation as people settled into their seats. First he's out of the starting 11, and before you can say Toronto he's out of the squad altogether. It must be a bitter pill to swallow for a man as proud as Hucks.
A fizzling out of such a truly wonderful City career would be a huge shame. In terms of loyalty and his ability to lift City out of total mediocrity on so many occasions he's been peerless in the last ten years, let alone the four he's been here.
Of course, it may be that hip again; then Roeder said not after the match. Time will tell as this little side show takes its course, but let's just hope it's not a bitter parting.
The early subdued mood of the crowd was matched by the lacklustre nature of the first 45. It just never seemed to get going. There appeared too many players out there slightly off their games.
Firstly, Foz didn't pull the strings as we have become accustomed to him doing, presumably because he was still feeling Tuesday night's knock. He became less effectual as the game progresses and, in honesty, it was a surprise he lasted the full game.
Dion, by his standards, wasn't at his best and right across the park things were not quite coming off for players. It wasn't a million miles away, but for whatever reason it wasn't quite happening. Rusty blamed the pitch; Roeder refused to.
Opposition teams also seem to have worked out our 'one winger' system and subsequently Crofty found himself crowded out the moment he received the ball. This wasn't helped by Johnny O's obvious struggle with his Achilles.
With a not instinctively attacking Bertrand on the left, and no Hucks on the bench we seemed to be running out of ideas as the game went on.
Bates' arrival gave the crowd a new distraction and he proved what Stan had thought: that he's the sort of player you'd rather have in a yellow shirt than a blue one. If the lad stays fit he'll be a great acquisition.
The second-half was an improvement, although every time Preston crossed the halfway line Stan caused panic to those around him by muttering 'Oh s##t… here comes the sucker punch!' and as Ormerod homed in on goal Stan was preparing to stand up and declare: 'There, I told you that was going to happen, didn't I?'
It's just as well Marshall produced a top quality save, otherwise Stan could well have ended up with a punch on the snout from a fellow Barclay Ender!
At the other end Cureton's arrival had livened things up the around the box and but for a top class save he'd have got his just rewards. As Doc thumped one onto the cross bar and time ticked inexorably onwards, Stan had mentally calculated our position in relation to the bottom three. A few moments and a bit of sublime finishing later, Stan was looking up that table and our position in relation to the top six.
Stan has sat gazing at the table again this morning, it's become a bit mesmerising in honesty. How on earth have we ended up in 13th and only seven points from the play-offs, for heaven sake?
Considering at half-time against the Blue Satan Stan sat with his head in his hands, and reflected on City's plight as being the worst he has ever experienced, the last three months have been little short of miraculous.
If Stan does have one little pang of sadness, it's that a certain D Huckerby isn't as central to all of this as the fairy-tale demands.
Just maybe that fairy-tale comes true on a sunny day in May!
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