Poor? Hmm… that doesn’t do it justice.

Piss poor? Getting there, but still lacking a certain something.

A piss poor travesty of a sham of a mockery of a shambles of a… oh dear.

You would have thought that five goals meant that it was, at least, an entertaining game. You would have been wrong.

At our best, with everyone playing well, we are a decent team, albeit a brittle one. Tonight, only Simon Royce was playing well, and of the outfield players only Ainsworth was playing with any sort of spirit. Everyone looked sluggish. Our reliable stalwarts, the likes of Shittu, Furlong and Bignot were off form - Shittu was particularly poor. Our less reliable, but occasionally inspired players - the likes of Cook, Langley, Nygaard, were in wimpish mode, all misplaced effort (or no effort at all in Langley’s case). Even Lomas, who I thought looked promisingly forceful last game, was nowhere to be seen.

And as for Santos. What can I say that I haven’t already said? It beggars belief that Ollie keeps picking him each week. I just don’t understand it, and frankly every time he plays I lose a little bit more respect for Ollie. Unfortunately I also lose a bit of respect each time we put in a tactically inept performance, and each time that he makes a bizarre substitution or tactical switch. I am running out of respect.

An classic example of what I’m talking about - today we were trailing 1-2 in the second half, looking badly in need of a substitution, and nothing happened… Then, more by luck than judgement, we grabbed a goal out of nowhere. All of a sudden, we make two attacking substitutions and go all gung-ho, only to let in an inevitable third goal. A naive gamble at best, downright daft at worst.

I honestly wish I’d stayed at home.