girls world

so women and football don't mix? not so claims our Orange girlie Becky Gazeley

SINCE my last column, it’s clear Happy Harry’s head isn’t the only thing to have gone downhill!

For my sins, I travelled down to Gillingham and we were really poor. I can’t help thinking that if we’d had the enthusiasm that we start every game with, we wouldn’t be in this inevitable relegation nightmare.

I don’t know how many of you read Dean Morgan’s interview in the Luton News, but I was outraged.

He, in basic terms, said that he would play for Luton if the worst came to the worst next season, but he would be looking elsewhere. Who do you think you are, Dean?

Luton Town Football Club gave you a job when nobody else wanted you and now you think you’re better than the club that feeds and waters your family.

At the end of the day, Dean, the future may not look too bright at LTFC at the moment, but you’re not that good at playing football and you should count your lucky stars you’ve got a job.

We see flashes of magic, once in a blue moon, which really doesn’t qualify you for your probably bulging pay packet.

You also give me an impression of being a Flash Harry, a ladies’ man – well don’t try it on with this lady!

Come on Mick, let’s get rebuilding so we can have a squad in League Two that really wants to play for our glorious club.

Rant over!

CELEB WATCH: DJ Fatboy Slim is a Brighton fan, maybe he’ll travel up to see his team play.

MAN OF THE MONTH: Keith Keane: You have been exceptional, at last someone with some passion.

TIP OF THE MONTH: Customising is coming back. My ‘Get Morgan Out’ T-shirt is just drying.

boys'r'us

with Billy Sugger

AT the start of our ill-fated Championship season I arrived at Kenilworth Road all excited at the news that the club had spent a pretty penny on doing up its toilets.

For decades, I’d become used to peeing up against a wall and watching it trickle into the drains in those basic bogs under the Main Stand.

Despite the investment of a lick of paint here and there, we still lack some basic services you’d expect in the modern age.

Now, I’m not expected some posh twat standing there overlooking proceedings, offering us a splash of aftershave and expecting a tip. But when it’s freezing cold, like it was against Cheltenham, and you’ve got the urge, you should at least be able to washyour hands in hot water.

I can’t admit to having hung out in all the toilets around the ground, but the ones I’ve frequented always serve you up with icy cold H20.

Then you have the liquid soap dispensers which are always empty, but if you’re lucky there’ll be a manky bar of soap loitering somewhere nearby.

And to make matters worse, the dozen or so paper towels allocated to each luxury lav have usually all long gone by the time I get round to needing one. So that means it’s grab a piece of soggy toilet roll time, or use your jeans.

All this is playing havoc with my eczma-suffering dainty hands. Come on, Hatters. Come clean and give us the handwashing facilities we deserve.

Otherwise you’ll find even more fans will simply bog off next season.