Cybereagles

El Californiaco. Pathetic.

Branthwaite. English. Big Dominic DCL. English. Pickford, JT, Godfrey, Garner, Young, Harrison, Dwight “Magic” McNeil. British Lions. Merseyside Derby. Goodison garrison, rocking up with a bunch of “no speaka Ingles” and wondering why they took a rollicking. “Ola Senor, donde estas el…”. “El 50/50 s...

Desperation. I bet the EPL will follow suit. Meaningless exhibitions ala Ali vs Hacksaw Jim Duggan. North London Derby in Las Vegas? There’ll be blood on the streets of the Big Smoke. English. Premier. League. The shameless gringos will open leg for a few pesetas. Always have. Always will. “Manwell...

11 Gerardian slips, not to mention the substitutes. Testicular softitude. For all the talk of Endo being the Samurai Vieira, the Spag Bol of centre-mid, came in and was nothing but noodles. Endomi. Harvey Energiser Bunny Elliot, Curtis Jamaican Jones, Dominic Soba-who? Calvert-Lewin that’s who. Nons...

Desperation.

Postecoglu will set his line higher than Pat Ewing at alley-oop. Play the game not the occasion and it should be Alamo. On and off the pitch.

If Erling Ekoku shows up tomorrow, it’s case closed.

When it mattered most, bottled it. Just like Cold Penalty Palmer, face the Brooklyn Brawlers on the cobbles of Ashburton. “Hachoo…sorry not feeling well”. Fires up the X-Box. Fully fit in time for Burnley.

It. Means. More. The Gospel of Alexander-Arnold.

Primary. School. Defending.

Only downer is the convenient sick note. Would’ve been all the more spectacular with Cold Palmer melted to steam in the fortress. Back to full fitness in time for a penalty vs Burnley.

Flip-floptimus Prime, Bukayo baby photos hidden back under the mattress, Blue Seal Vaseline back on the shelf. Bed linen lifted, time for the photos of 5 year old Connor the Cub Scout.

The curse of Pochettino (aka the curse of Harrison Kane) carryover from the curse of Tottenham Flopspurs.

@Scip, Flip-Floptimus Prime in full shape shifting mode. Transformers, robots in disguise.

Not at all surprised to see a certain sick note presented before kick-off. Bottled it. Didn’t want none of the beat down. None of it.

Comical.

As they say if the public houses frequented by the Yardies on match day, “p*ssyol” (Nicholas Jackson bottling the header vs Big Willy Saliba’s high foot).

Midweek under the lights on the cobbles, look who’s bottled it. Didn’t want it. None of it.

Arne Ten Hag front runner.

EFL Jude Bells, ringing them louder than ever en La Paella.

Championship Jude Bellingham. Birmingham City 41 games, 4 goals. Die Bundes 92 games, 12 goals. La Paella? 25 games, 17 goals. In one season, not yet complete, EFL Jude Bellingham has exceed his domestic league career total. Embarrassing. If one is to indulge the playground parlance of easy peasy. S...

^the purist form of cowardice.

City wouldn’t want a revved up Sky Blues. And United will be a freak event.