Colin Calderwood has suggested that fans put a goal on their Christmas wish lists. Notice the singular. Just one is all that is possible, and to get that will require an act of god, or a fluke.

We could then go back to what the club are good at, for the last 25 years anyway. And that is being limp and damp, a mutant monstrosity.

When taking to the field, their only hope is to be a nuisance to the opposition. Watching United is like observing an autopsy, BUTCHERY of the most upsetting sort. If Tommy Cooper made a footballing joke routine, he would have been too slow.

Cambridge are already performing jokes, even more entertaining than performing fleas. Even one goal may push my heart too far, my pulse is racing at the thought, it may explode. Be still my aching heart, have faith...… I must pray, while not knowing that Cambridge United are cursed by reptile eyed demons, that feed on babies.

Surely I am burning in hell, toasted by blue flames, poked by the devils swords, and frying in demons spittle. To be finally despatched to another world by Cambridge re signing Jake Carroll, or making Liam Oneil player of the year.


My suffering knows no limits.....

Juliet Parmenter Mawson Road, off Sturton Street.