A shit preview: Hull City vs the Mighty

What's the point in travelling to Hull and back? It's fucking boxing day. We could be putting our feet up with our families or sleeping off hangovers. It's a fair question but I find that answering "what's the point to anything?" usually deals with most questions - existential or otherwise.

I can't say I'm anticipating a festive feast of free flowing football. Such delights have been in short supply of late. I can't really come up with a particular prescription for how we should set up or who we should pick. Poveda has earned a go, though I'm haunted by a feeling that as soon as we put any faith in him, he'll disappear like a mirage of anonymity. Grimmy must play but that goes without saying.

Should Marvin come back in? I honestly don't know. Such is the decline of his previously imperious quality that I'm creating internal torment by wondering if Williams should keep the shirt.

Left side of MCLF brain: Leave Marv out.

Right side of MCLF brain: Don't be a mentalist. He's class

Left side of MCLF brain: Aye, but he's been shite.

Right side of MCLF brain: He'll come good though.

Left side of MCLF brain: When?

Right side of MCLF brain: I dunno, but he's better than the other options.

Left side of MCLF brain: Is he though? Is he?

Right side of MCLF brain: FFS. This is depressing.

Left side of MCLF brain: Sigh.

The mood in the fan base feels sullen. Whereas last year we transformed terraces far and wide into what felt something akin to a Latin- American atmosphere of constant and insistent noise, a throbbing mass of life and passion - now it's often like being surrounded by a load of moody 14 year olds who occasionally burst into some angry invective and then go back to muttering. That's not a moan, I'm as culpable as anyone else. There's something lacking from my rhythm. There's a fizz missing from my can of lager.

My Appletiser has gone flat.

"How beautiful it is to get out of the house!" sing Italian ultras. I think that's a great song to sing about football. It's often (to use a technical term) shite but undeniably, it is not our own front rooms. We have, at least, been somewhere else.

We're not the spectacle we once were. I looked at the numbers for the division this week. It was sad. In an attacking sense, so few of our players have anything of note about them. Wor Gaz is good at heading. Jerry is ok at dribbling and has a knack of appearing in the right place. Patino and Carey are reasonably accurate at passing. There's nothing though that suggests we'll tear or slice anyone anyone apart. Kenny Dougal can win the ball quite well (the 19th best tackler in the division fwiw) but do we really do anything with it very often?

All I want for Christmas is Josh Bowler. I'm not writing the lad another letter though.

Whatever happens. It will be beautiful to get out of the house. 'Humber' is a really satisfying word to say. Hull are a bit shit too.

It feels like it will be inevitably attritional fayre with a horrible mistake or a classic referee fuck up dictating the outcome.

Have a good Christmas. 

Big Fleetwood awaits.

Onwards