Well boys and girls, this is the week of destiny. It’s really kind of strange that I’d ever thought I’d have to write something like this, but then this is Wimbledon FC.
At the moment, I’m calm yet nervous as fuck. Nervous as fuck because like everyone else I fear the wrong result. The thought of grade A tossers like Koppout and Wankelmann with their insincere smiles and phony motives laughing over our club’s corpse is enough to make me carry on regardless of the result this week. Anger is an energy, as John Lydon sung once. But calm? Well, I’m starting to feel edgy now, but I’ve read what everyone else has read. I’ve heard what Koppout, Brunswick and co have had to resort to, even at this late stage. That transcript at the HBRA gives me more hope than anything – it’s not a court of law, so I guess the Panel can use it. Not that it will probably be the only bit of evidence, I’m sure. In other words – I’m convinced that if we lose, it’s because of a stitch up. Nothing else. We know it, Koppout knows it, I just hope the Panel know it.
While I’m here, I want to say the biggest, most massive thank you to everyone at WISA for everything they’ve done since this shit broke. It’s no co-incidence that they’re being used as an example of how to set up a supporters association. They have been doing things that WFC can’t – or more likely, won’t – do, and if there’s any justice that will convince the Panel straight away. They probably deserve a victory more than anything, hell they’ve done probably more than what is morally right over all this. I feel guilty at not being in a position to help more over this, there are probably others who feel the same. And yes, this is getting it out of my system
As for everything else, that can wait. This is what I imagine purgatory to be like.
More later, if anything