16th October 1999
It's been a while. Somewhere between London Gatwick and the Costa del Sol, I managed to misplace this blasted diary. Rosemary and I have a timeshare out there, courtesy of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. Lovely villa, although getting anything back from the place is a logistical nightmare. I knew I'd left it somewhere in the villa, just couldn't remember where. Four months, six telephone calls and a rather unpleasant conversation with a chap called Miguel later, and here we are.
Unfortunately, whoever returned it appears to have sticky fingers. My beloved Parker pen, which was neatly secured to the inside spine, has vanished. A gift for my confirmation from my Aunt Mary, that was. They don't make them like that anymore. I've been reduced to using a BBC Bic from the stationery cupboard. This place really is going down the pan. Cutting corners at every corner, if you'll pardon the expression.
Anyway, some cracking football today.
Wimbledon edged Bradford 3-2 in what was probably the pick of the bunch. I've got a lot of time for Paul Jewell. Doing a cracking job up there, considering what he's working with. Reminds me of a young Brian Clough, albeit with considerably less hair and a face like a disgruntled butcher.
Manchester United put four past Watford, as did Arsenal against Everton. Both finished 4-1. No great surprises there. I suspect Alex Ferguson will still find something to complain about.
Newcastle, meanwhile, took an absolute hiding at Coventry. Four goals to one. Carlton Palmer, Paul Williams, Robbie Keane and Mustapha Hadji all getting in on the act. Even Palmer scored. Bobby Robson must be wondering what on earth he's walked into at Newcastle. Didn't he give Palmer his England debut? Or was that Graham Taylor?
Must get this pen situation sorted. It's been playing on my mind all afternoon. Might ask Rosemary to dig out the Freemans catalogue, see if they've got anything decent. Not that it'll replace the old Parker 51. Beautiful instrument. Smooth nib, lovely weight. I've probably got as much chance of finding another one as Carlton Palmer has of winning the Ballon d'Or.
Still, stranger things have happened.
Des