After 25 years of inadequacy, has my taste for revenge been sated? That i might return to the poisonous blemish named Cambridge United.? United indeed, in the foulness of cheapness, disgrace, parasitism, infection, the blemish of the fens.

Not yet. Should i donate a few beads on my rosary to the club when i return to church? Or will my hopes be shattered like porcelain under a jackboot?

They dont know what they are playing with.

People.

It has been like walking in the fields of Hades, stinking, burning, foul, disgusting. That York can come to the Abbey and hit five. Where is our self esteem?

The language of the club still smacks of miserable quackery, there are no puns or humour, the relaxation of an inherent superiority.

Cheltenham will probably hit six tonight, and Bonner is nothing but a mutant monstrosity, versed in the skills of compiling flukes, in a fortunate collection of one after the other.

Emily of Birdwood Road.