Neil Webb writes exclusively on Hob Nob Anyone?

Happy new year, and welcome to my new monthly millennium column.

Fans of literature may have noticed that I've been less than punctual in the deliverance of my thoughts over the past season, but to be honest the lack of excitement on the pitch seems to have transferred itself to my pen. Or should I say the pen of my faithful scribe Ben Whitmarsh. But fear not, my New Years resolution is to never allow Reading's premier z-list celebrity to venture out of the nuclear bunker that resides at the bottom of the Webb wastelands in West Berkshire. Why a nuclear bunker you ask? Because I, like many wise sages and mystics, fear impending Armageddon. As I danced naked save for blue woad paint and finest ermine stockings around the Twin Bridges Roundabout in Bracknell on Y2K eve with Prince's 1999 playing on my Sony Walkman, I admit that I was sure the end of the world was about to strike. But now I see Nostradamus's predictions could well have been referring to something else altogether. Please indulge me as I explain my conclusions:

Nostradamus says......' we will all come to a sticky end after a sweaty sock leaves us in the lurch'......does this refer to a term in division three because of Tommy Burns?

Nostradamus says.......' the opponents white line shall be breached only on one occasion during the period of the blue moon, yet the Royals shall become consumed with back ache after delving into their own onion bag'......maybe a reference to our own failure to score, whilst the team we play have far better fortunes.

But as we all know, Nostradamus' predictions are as likely to be successful as David Beckham adding to his fortunes on Who Wants to be a Millionaire. And old Nostra' never had the opportunity to phone a friend or go 50/50.

But I must put away my Crystal ball, and get out my football. (Neat link.)

We haven't won since October, and we're out of the FA Cup. The only thing diverting our attentions from the relegation battle is the Auto Windscreen Cup. The prospect of having the biggest, and most empty stadium the third division has ever seen looms large. 2 points have been gained over the Christmas period, and Chris Casper has broken his leg. And yet, although we're still in the relegation places, there could be, in the immortal words of soccer guru Norman Lamont, who played on the inside right for the cash strapped side Whitehall Disunited, 'green shoots of recovery'.

The draws against promotion chasing Notts County showed a side to Reading that hasn't been seen for a while. Against County they dominated the game, and were unlucky. And against Gillingham, they refused to give in and got lucky. If we can fuse those qualities in the next month in the crucial ties against Blackpool, Cambridge, Luton, and Colchester, Reading's star should rise into the joyous position of mid-table mediocrity. Maybe then Alan Pardew will be able to settle properly into a difficult job which so far must have turned his hair grey.

So readers, as I settle down to read the bumper millennium annual of the Beano which has been signed and sent to me by Brian Clough, I bid you farewell until February.

As they say on the mean streets of Purley, respect to the Berkshire massive. Booyaka!!!

Neil over and out.

Neil
As perhaps told to Ben Whitmarsh

Remember you can phone us at the Royals Football Show on 0118 9282828, to express your opinions on any matter, on the pitch or off (the players do listen you know.....well, those who aren't playing). You can also e mail the show on classicgoldradio@i-way.co.uk

Previous Classic Gold Columns:

25 November 1999
7 November 1999