Rock Bottom

Southampton find themselves with the weight of the Premier League on their shoulders, quite literally.

Having played a quarter of the season’s games since their return to the top flight of English football, they are propping up the rest of the teams from the bottom.

Nobody could have thought it would be an easy return to glory, but nobody would have thought it would be quite this hard to settle back in.

So who is to blame?

Nigel Adkins, is the favourite to be the first Premier League manager sacked and that can come as no surprise after losing eight of the opening ten games.

The manager of any team knows that when things go wrong they are held accountable, just as when things go right they are adorned.

Nigel picks the team, he chooses the formation and he makes the changes needed to ensure that ‘his’ squad go out and do their job.

In saying that, some of his decisions this season have been questionable, his insistence on sticking with 4-3-3 (or 4-5-1) when it does not appear to be working, for one.

But should he shoulder the fault alone or should some of the players never be graced with wearing the shirt again.

After all, football is a game of passion and that has certainly been lacking from some of the performances on the pitch recently.

Unless you count Artur Boruc’s alleged bottle throwing incident that is.

Whether you agree with his reaction to conceding a goal and being abused by his own fans or not, it was his passion that showed through.

For Southampton fans, it is easy to forget that the team has played six out of the top seven teams and only one from the bottom seven.

The majority of them have not yet turned on their manager, their constant chanting for him despite losing 2-0 to West Bromwich Albion on Monday evening could be heard on any tv or radio station covering the game.

And maybe they are right not to turn on him.

It is worth remembering that Southampton had a five-year-plan and are only three years into it, who knows what will happen in the next two years?

I need to scream!

There are many things we associate with being British: tea, fish and chips, and depending who you ask – queuing.

I think everyone understands the concept of queuing, without it where would we be? How would we know when our turn to be served had arrived?

It is a distinct possibility that we would stand in bewilderment in McDonalds for hours on end, possibly wasting away until we collapse of starvation, ok I’m exaggerating but you get the jist.

I have nothing against queuing, as I said it serves a point. What I do raise objection to, no, strike that, what I hate with a passion is the people at the front of the queue who appear to have forgotten why they are there.

Imagine the situation:

Your day starts out fine, you pop to the shops in your break to grab some lunch, stopping to take some money out of the bank on route.

There are three cashpoint machines, of course two of them are out of action, as they always appear to be, so a queue of around three people are waiting.

Not too bad, not too bad at all you think. How wrong can you be?

The first person is using the cashpoint to check the balance of every account they own, fair enough, that’s what they are for. The second draws their cash and leaves.

The end is in sight, or so you thought, but then the third person can’t find their bank card, why is it not in their hand ready? Did they not realise five minutes ago when they joined the queue that it would be needed?

Tensions are rising.

What feels like a few minutes (but is possibly just 40 seconds or so) of scrambling in their bag produces the purse in which the card is housed and inserted into the machine, cash out and away. At last.

On to the supermarket to get some milk for the office. A scan of the queues reveals the shortest one and you make your way to it.

You arrive a split second behind a woman pushing a months worth of groceries in a trolley. Does she use a little common sense and allow you to just nip in front whilst she is unpacking?

Does she hell? Ten minutes later you finally get to pay.

A quick stop at a fast food restaurant (fast food and restaurant, isn’t that joke in itself? Don’t even get me started on that) to get something to eat before returning to work should be simple enough.

You decide what you are going to have on the drive there so you are ready to order. Don’t you?

However, everybody else in the queue must have been transported there by some form of materialisation where they didn’t even know where they were going by the sound of all the: “Ummm” and “Ahhh, I’m not sure what to order” comments.

Did you have your car on auto drive? Did you black out and wake up at the front of the queue in KFC thinking you had gone to get a newspaper. Order the damn chicken and move on!

Who has a favourite film?

My favourite film is a tough call, it has to be dependant on what mood I am in at the time of the question, I’m not even sure I could pick just one at any given point in time.

As a general rule, I’m not keen on films, I find myself distracted easily and tend to wander off to do the washing or load the dishwasher half way through, much to the family’s annoyance.

I don’t ask them to pause it, so I’m not really sure what their problem is.

I could narrow it down and give a top 3 and that’s probably as good as it is going to get. So, in no particular order, here goes:

1. Disney’s Aladdin, I’m not really sure why I like it, maybe it is the upbeat songs that keep my attention through it.

Or maybe it stems from the sleep deprivation of having 2 boys under the age of 2 when it was released and the few hours of grasped sleep during video time, of which this was played – a lot! Maybe I’m brainwashed.

2. Homeward Bound, a heart warming tale of family pets, Shadow (Golden Retriever), Chance (American Bulldog) and Sassy the cat that get lost and have to find there way back across country terrains to their home. 

More importantly they talk, I always wanted a dog that could talk, who didn’t?

3.  Hocus Pocus, Bette Midler stars in this humorous take on Halloween, aimed more at children maybe, but hey if the cap fits.

I’m beginning to see a pattern developing here, if I analysed it it would probably be quite worrying, I can imagine sitting opposite a psychotherapist now – So Catherine, what is it exactly that you are scared about, why won’t you grow up?

The Saints are coming.....

There is something special about night games for a football fan. The sight of the pitch under floodlights in the winter has a way of making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

With temperatures tonight set to be around -1, I am hoping Southampton and Cardiff will manage to put on a performance that will allow me to forget that I am so cold I can no longer feel my fingers or toes.

There is nothing worse than spending the whole ninety minutes checking your watch every few seconds in anticipation of the final whistle just so that you can return to the warmth of home, and I know because I’ve been there.

Sitting second in the Championship, 3 points behind West Ham and just 1 ahead of Cardiff, we certainly can’t afford to drop any points, so goals are a must. Let’s just hope they are at the right end.

I’m also looking forward to seeing our new signings home debut, Tadanari Lee and Billy Sharp (assuming he plays). Adding to our already strong strike trio of Lambert, Guly and Connolly.

A goal for Southampton will enable the synchronised roar of 30,000 people and the subsequent celebrations to make the solid concrete beneath my feet tremble.

Try telling anyone who has not felt it before that is perfectly normal and nothing to worry about. The look that ensues is, quite simply, one of pure disbelief.

The feeling of being one part of a crowd of thousands of people with one joint goal, excusing the pun, is something that cannot compare.

With no belief in religion, I can only imagine the similarities that a congregation would feel in their worship of a God. St Mary’s is my church and football is my religion.