“Jings, cribbens and help me boab. We can’t even go away for a couple of days without the proverbial hitting the fan. Our betting slip, the one that said Laszlo will be the first to walk (after a gentle push), has been thrown into the bin along with the other Xmas crappery we got. Gannon? Sacked? Like, whit?! And they where doing so well. Motherwell, to be precise (djing boom).” (Inside Left)