6th March 1999
Strange sort of Saturday.
Only three Premier League matches today — Coventry beating Charlton, Leicester sneaking one at Wimbledon, and Southampton edging West Ham. The sort of results that would normally roll calmly through the vidiprinter without anyone raising an eyebrow.
Except today they’re wedged awkwardly into the middle of FA Cup weekend.
And that, frankly, doesn’t sit right with me.
The FA Cup used to have the stage to itself. Proper sense of occasion. Whole country focused on the same competition, the same drama, the same muddy replays. Now we’ve got league matches dotted around the place and nobody knows what they’re watching.
I mean you wouldn't have Cheltenham AND Ascot on the same day. Madness.
I mentioned it in passing around the studio earlier. A few nods, a few shrugs. Modern football, apparently. Television slots, scheduling compromises, everyone squeezing something in somewhere.
Anyway, I’ve just finished jotting this down before heading home. Quiet evening planned, I think. Something simple for dinner, perhaps a bit of television. Gladiators might be on — always had a bit of a soft spot for Jet, truth be told.
And, if the evening behaves itself, a sensible cup of tea before bed.
— Des
