My Grand Final Hell

With the Bulls not making the Grand Final for the first time in six years I expected yesterday’s trip to Old Trafford for the game to be a relaxing, enjoyable, stress-free occassion.

How wrong could I be?

From the stench of the abbatoir in Bradford, through the ridiculous train delays, the “company” of the worlds most miserable girl on said train to being surrounded by obnoxious, racist, moronic St Helens fans it was pretty much a day to forget, and therefore an experience I am not too fond of repeating.

At least the company of the friends I travelled and attended the game with, and the familiar faces I bumped into during the day, made things a bit more bearable. The curry once we got home was as good as usual too but, if the Bulls aren’t there next year, I’ll probably just watch things on the telly.

To Hull and Back….

I thought I was over getting pissed off by bad sporting results but, after the Bulls defeat against Hull, and City’s abysmal showing against the TB’s. I’m a little hacked off.

The manner of the performances was totally different, in the circumstances the Bulls display was almost heroic while what I saw at Valley Parade was the typical sh*te Colin Todd’s teams have been serving up for the last three seasons – although as a positive I certainly won’t be shelling out £20 to go watch them do it again.

I’m not sure why I am so disappointed about the Bulls exit, we’ve done very well to get as far in the competition as we had and, though I know we can’t win it every season (and frankly, how boring would it be if we did?) there was still a part of me that thought “maybe”.

At least I’ll be able to soak up the Grand Final experience without being too worried about the score, though I am going to be sitting with the Saints fans, which should be, erm fun…