It's 2016, we're in the third division with a clueless manager and a bunch of shite players and we can't even string three passes together at home, let alone score a goal.
Those of you old enough to do so, cast your minds back to the wonderful days of Chin Neal and his band of disparate renegades (including The Fat Man) in the mid-80s.
We were in the third division then too.
And we had a poor manager and a bunch of crap players.
But I don't recall too much gnashing of teeth and uncontrollable wailing at our plight back then.
Because we all knew we were shite and nobody worried about it too much.
If we won, we won. If we got drubbed, so be it - We're Bolton and we're rubbish. Accept it and move on.
But it's very different now.
We've tasted the fare on offer at the Top Table and we liked it.
We even went on a couple of European adventures and ate exotic stuff like Bratwurst and it was delicious!
So my question is this:
Given what we know now, where and when would you rather be: Standing in a puddle of someone else's wee in a half empty Burnden Terrace watching us lose to 1-4 to Bury (Google it) or sitting in your cold, hard plastic seat at The Macron watching us not have a single shot on target, as we lose to Oxford Utd?
Those of you old enough to do so, cast your minds back to the wonderful days of Chin Neal and his band of disparate renegades (including The Fat Man) in the mid-80s.
We were in the third division then too.
And we had a poor manager and a bunch of crap players.
But I don't recall too much gnashing of teeth and uncontrollable wailing at our plight back then.
Because we all knew we were shite and nobody worried about it too much.
If we won, we won. If we got drubbed, so be it - We're Bolton and we're rubbish. Accept it and move on.
But it's very different now.
We've tasted the fare on offer at the Top Table and we liked it.
We even went on a couple of European adventures and ate exotic stuff like Bratwurst and it was delicious!
So my question is this:
Given what we know now, where and when would you rather be: Standing in a puddle of someone else's wee in a half empty Burnden Terrace watching us lose to 1-4 to Bury (Google it) or sitting in your cold, hard plastic seat at The Macron watching us not have a single shot on target, as we lose to Oxford Utd?