This is too early to be doing anything.
Morning everyone. Well it’s morning when I write this, half five to be exact. I’m currently in a shopping centre, queueing patiently for the new version of that tablet computer from that hipster company in Palo Alto. You know the one.
The queue gives me a perfect amount of time to think not only about how little sleep I’ve had, but also to think about our potential surprise signing; our wildcard winger to send us to safety.
Gregg Wylde. Gregg. Greggy. Greggster. I’m unsure whether we should be going Wylde over this one. Excuse the pun, I’m a grouchy sort of tired person and silly humour at this moment of the day is definitely the punniest.
FIFA are still to ratify the move, as special dispensation is required to sign him outside the transfer window, even though the boy was technically made redundant without a payoff a couple of weeks ago. I think it’s rather admirable in the time of the millionaire celebrity come footballer, that a young lad playing at a big club (albeit in Scotland) near the start of his career would put his club and other people first.
He’s probably saved dozens of jobs at Rangers and I applaud him for that. I know it’s easy for us to say he would get a new club and that he is probably going to be on more money at Bolton, but he took the risk of not taking a wage for at least six months, and we know just how many young players go out of the game each year. A shocking amount.
So is he any good? I haven’t seen too much of him, although since I heard we were looking into signing him last summer, whenever his name has been mentioned on the tellybox I’ve turned my head. The kids scored a few goals, and looks a nice tricky winger.
But he was playing in a league that a team with the ilk of Burnley could qualify for the Europa League. Scottish football, if you can call it football, has no pace, technical quality or competitiveness. His goals, assists and YouTube clips say nothing about his ability to be able to replicate in the Barclays Premier League. At least he’s definitely better than Pratley.
Ok, I’ll be back tommorow morning, before I get very drunk on Guinness and get rowdy on a train to London. In the words of Neil Buchanan, ta’rah!