Gentlemen of a certain persuasion will pay an arm and a leg to be humiliated at a club up West. Which means the £55 I spent watching my team taken to the cleaners at Stamford Bridge last Sunday was actually a bit of a bargain.
QPR were one down in the time it took the board to revolve in Bullseye, while Chelsea were simply super, smashing, great.
During the painful post-match inquest, more than one fan accused Rangers of not turning up.
“I haven’t been this anti-Bolton since their mulleted namesake invaded the UK charts in the late 80s.”
They were there all right. In fact I could see them particularly clearly as none of them appeared to be moving.
While Chelsea – supposedly hungover from their Champions League success – flitted across the sodden surface like a ballet troupe, Mark Hughes’ side had all the grace of a tranquilised bear as they stumbled around, bereft of ideas, minging in the rain.
My preparation, on the other hand, couldn’t have gone any better, having remembered to bring the ‘lucky’ penny, badge and t-shirt, while my mate continued his pre-match ritual of getting a McDonald’s but not a programme (well it worked for the home games).
As soon as I saw the team-sheets, I feared the worst.
While Chelsea’s ‘B team’ contained a £50m striker, QPR – shorn of the talents of Adel Taarabt and Samba Diakite – couldn’t have had a worse Plan B if they’d stuck the singer of the same name on the wing.
The one-sided contest meant the Anton Ferdinand-John Terry saga which had dominated the build-up was reduced to a sideshow – although the booing of the QPR defender by the home crowd (and it wasn’t just a minority) left a nasty taste in the mouth.
The visiting support responded with a few anti-Terry chants – although a rendition of Elvis Costello’s I Don’t Want To Go To Chelsea would have been more appropriate.
The one ditty that drew titters from home and away fans alike was the rather cruel “Christine Bleakley, she looks like a horse!”
In that case I’m a fully paid-up member of the equine appreciation society.
Goal difference as well as pride took a battering at the Bridge, putting Rangers’ rivals in pole position to beat the dreaded drop.
In the meantime it’s back to anxiously checking fixtures and latest scores to see if there’s any way that we can get out of this mess, while openly supporting rivals who we’d never normally give the time of day.
“Come on you Spurs” was the choice of song on Wednesday, while on Thursday I’d have happily put a cross next to Emmanuel Adebayor’s name had he been listed as one of the candidates for London Mayor.
On Friday…actually, this is beginning to sound like a Craig David song so we’ll jump straight to Sunday’s crucial penultimate fixtures, where QPR fans will loath Stoke like they’ve never loathed them before, yet when the Potters host Bolton a week later, they’ll suddenly be our favourite team.
I’ve got nothing against our relegation rivals but I haven’t been this anti-Bolton since their mulleted namesake invaded the UK charts in the late 80s.
QPR conspiracy theorists can add the FA’s decision to appoint Roy Hodgson England boss five days before Owen Coyle’s side host West Brom to the list.
But I reckon Roy will want to do Rangers a favour given his Shepherd’s Bush roots. He’s got fond memories of having a barney with the old man before feeding Hercules a sugar lump and loading up the rag and bone cart.
Hodgson’s former club Fulham certainly have no worries about relegation, instead setting their sights set on finishing above Liverpool, after winning at Anfield for the first time ever in midweek.
But we’ll leave the last word to Brentford, who were decidedly unlucky to lose to promotion favourites Sheffield Wednesday last weekend.
To make matters worse it was hammering down with rain (just for a change) but none of that bothered ‘Newbee’ on the Griffin Park Grapevine forum,
He wrote: “I saw a female Wednesday fan walking back to her coach, dressed in a police uniform, boots, mini skirt, stockings and baton.
“I didn’t see what she was like from the front but it helped take my mind off the result and the rain on the way back to the car. It was the longest it’s ever taken me to get to the car from a game!”