A transfer story surrounding a Black Cat and the Wanderers. Plus an article comment that struck a chord
Although the likelihood of this deal coming off is minimal, still reports are circling; Bolton Wanderers are interested in Sunderland striker Connor Wickham.
The Sunderland Echo claims Wanderers are seeking a loan deal for the youngster who has only scored 2 competitive goals since his arrival to the Black Cats.- one of them while out on-loan at Sheffield Wednesday.
The England Under-21 international has found first-team opportunities limited since joining from Ipswich Town in 2011.
There is no doubt the kid has talent and is definitely one to keep an eye on for the future, but the future is something the Wanderers can`t afford to look too far into. Signing the high-profile 20-year-old at the Reebok would give everyone a lift at the club and would certainly be another coup for Freedman. Unfortunately, coups and lifts don`t get you goals and some would argue, we already have a Wickham-clone currently on our books, in Tom Eaves.
On a completely separate note? the referee has rightly been criticised since his ‘performance` at the Reebok on Saturday. All comments regarding the ref are totally justified, but this comment from robmoss2k was particularly salient. The passion, frustration and contempt aimed at the referee is not only funny and acutely perceptive, it also highlights the effect one man can have, not only on the result, but your state of mind. Robmoss` observations of the ref`s actions are as vivid and imprinted on his brain as the majority of the football on show. Rob, I feel your passion, I feel your frustration and I certainly feel your pain. You put how you and the rest of us felt towards the referee on Saturday perfectly and I had to put it into an article?
‘I was booing at the end, but I certainly wasn’t booing the team. In fact, had you been anywhere near me, not only would you have distinctly heard the tirade of ruthless expletive-laden abuse I was directing at him but, if you’d had the misfortune to be in any of the seats directly in front of me, you’d have ended up with spit-laden hair. Fortunately, the few seats in front of me were empty, and my fiancée had a tissue on hand for me to dry my beard. I don’t know where they dug that referee up from, but to book someone for diving and then to allow him to get away with two worse dives subsequently when a yellow card is supposed to be a warning, and to give a throw-in the opposite way to the linesman whose, in that position, call it was epitomised his abject performance, which did an excellent job of distracting me from some of the poor passing we were guilty of in the second half. However, like I said, I’m not concerned about anyone except Wheater, and I hope that Dawson does indeed arrive and that Mills disappears sharpish.’