Went into my local boozer, in Chelsea, a rough as fook pub called Riley's last night. It's on my doorstep but have never wanted to go in and view old teddy boys fallen on hard times that remember Ron Chopper Harris only too well mixed with the hoary Oirish charm of the place. But my brother came to visit and after his first visit to Stamford Bridge since 2002 (when we beat them 3-1) he was on cloud nine so we ventured in.
One swift drink later, (coke for me, had just been dosed-up with oxytocin) on leaving, one of the regular old geezers asked who we supported. When I said Villa, I could see a flicker of malice in his eyes before he croaked "Dunt be a caant all your life, eh?" before cackling and returning to the games machine that takes whatever money he has left over not spent on Guinness and fags.
Don't think I've missed much from going in there all these months.