Mrs Mopp Reborn

After all these years my conscience is clear; well, at least it’s relieved of one burden (of many). Having failed miserably to help clear up The Valley I duly turned up for bucket and sponge duty this morning. Only for the morning session (there are some work commitments – although if there are how am I finding the time to scribble something? I guess the answer it it’s quicker to rattle off this nonsense than to scrub pigeon crap off a couple of seats, and a good deal less knackering).

I can say it was a truly unique experience. For the first and probably only time in my life I thought it would be useful to have some Millwall fans around. After all, their experience in mopping the prison floors and mucking out would have come in handy. I’m only disappointing that a similar call has not gone out for volunteers to help do something similar for Selhurst Park. I would have arrived with a suitcase full of chewing gum and a laden dump truck, or might have settled for the obvious option of some petrol cans and a box of matches. No amount of cleaning there can make a difference.

The trip did afford the opportunity to pick up a copy of the season’s DVD, although I don’t want to spoil my fragile mood of rising confidence ahead of Saturday by actually watching it yet. There’ll be time enough in the months ahead after a fine victory to risk reopening the wounds. I think it’s worth buying just for a wonderful sentence on the back cover: “this DVD brings together the highs and lows of the season and includes all 71 League goals, plus those from the play-offs, as well as brief cup action”. It could hardly include extended cup action, could it? However brief, a permanent reminder of a certain FA Cup tie hardly serves as an inducement.

Anyway, come Saturday afternoon it all kicks off. We just have to think of songs for the newcomers. Super Pawel Abbott doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue and we have to forget all the things we used to sing/say about Doherty; he has, after all, now gone up in the world. I’m still disappointed that David Essex’s Rock On hasn’t been adopted for Therry Racon, but there’s still time. Come Saturday afternoon, I shall (TAP willing) be on a road heading north from Lisbon, with one eye on the map (I don’t qualify for driving duties) and one on the mobile for the text updates. Come on you Addicks.