It's a funny old game

It was presented by that legendary drinker (don’t you mean striker? Ed) Jimmy Greaves and, while it was nothing more than a bog standard goals and gaffes video, what marked it out from the herd was the fact that, every so often, the spectral image of Jimmy’s disembodied head would pop up to exclaim his famous catchphrase.

“It’s a funny old game” may be a line that has passed in to cliché but it is one with which I wholeheartedly agree. It is rare for me to leave a Brentford game without having at least one thing to smile about, even when we’ve lost.

Saturday’s defeat to Swindon Town was no different.

As the clock ticked down with the Robins 3-2 in front, the ball made its way into the Brook Road end, where the away fans were housed.

The yokels refused to return it to our keeper Nikki Bull, who had to call for a replacement. Inevitably, as he was about to take the goal kick, the missing ball was hurled back on to the pitch.

Bull lost his rag and booted it back into the stand. The big surprise was his kick arrowed straight in to the crowd because, until then, his boot had produced more slices than Pizza Hut.

The Swindon fans were obviously delighted. Bull had given them the reaction they wanted and, while I should probably be indignant and make gags about villages missing their idiots and keeping things in the family to teach them a lesson, I must confess I found the episode just as funny.

On a more serious note, Andy Scott ripped into the players at the post-match press conference and was quite right to do so, despite what that buffoon Chris Kamara said on Sky Sports the next day.

For too long, Brentford have settled for second best and I am glad we now have a manager who isn’t afraid to spell out some harsh truths.

I am sure the players would accept that Scott’s criticism of their insipid first half display was more than fair.

The huge frustration is that we made Swindon look like Brazil circa-1970 in that opening period, only to then totally dominate the second half.

At this point, we can take some succour from my old mucker Keith Collins, who, you may remember, penned an Ode To An Unnecessary Addition To The Sports Pages in tribute to my witterings.

Keith’s latest effort is titled Hope Springs Eternal, and that is a sentiment I shall cling to as the season unfolds.