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Another bottom six finish, attendances so low you could almost limbo under the Easter Road turnstiles, and football so poor a works team from a defunct electronics factory gubbed us in the league cup final.
Oh, and we cap it off by hiring a new manager thats never been a manager before. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking Mogga's appointment. On the contrary, I tagged it on to the story of 2003/04 to illustrate a point. Hibees have the right to be miffed, to be pessimistic, to indulge in the odd moan and groan and mump and moan. Why then, are we buying season tickets in what looks like record numbers? Why are interweb sites full of optimistic posts about travel arrangements for intertotty cup ties in the baltics?
Why is there an air of optimism for miles around Easter Road that hasn't been there for many a long while? Now, I'm not one for kicking a man when he's down south but it's ALL due to the long overdue departure of the wee fat big mac munching Bobby to the sunny climes of the south coast. By all accounts he's a bit of a dour character that you wouldn't want to sip a pint with but I don't care about that. I don't care if he's a good guy or a bad husband. I only care that he's a shit manager if you want to watch football, and Hibs are well shot. He might very well be successful with the PA, and I don't give a jot about that either. What I do know is that even if they win the FA cup and get into the premiership next season it will have been achieved with industry not flair. I'm certain PA fans won't give a toss about that to be fair, but to be fair I do. BEFORE he was given the Hibs job I remarked I'd rather see a Sauzee inspired Hibs team play in division one, than a Bobby Williamson led Hibs team in the Premier league. I have not changed my mind, in fact I feel vindicated. Indeed, I'm grateful that he's as far away from Easter Road as its about possible to get in this sceptred Isle, and for that reason alone I hope he has a long, long and fruitful relationship with Plymouth Argyle.
Anyhoo I feel better. That is off my chest, and my receipt for two season tickets is in my chest of drawers. I've not decided to renew one and buy another on the basis of sound footballing performances, but on hope and optimism that is slowly returning to me. Hope and optimism that may well prove unfounded, but I don't care. It's coming back and thats what matters. Bobby could never have given me that, never.
God luck Mogga, you'll need it and I'm looking forward to it. |