I can't lose you in crowded rooms
And as it so often is with Wolves

What should be a great day has been spoiled. What should have been a celebration of our (relative) league position, and a ridiculous game consisting of 10 goals… my overriding feeling when leaving the game is one of anger. Fucking idiots invading the pitch on numerous occasions during the game, for no reason other than the egotisic need to take a “selfie” on the pitch.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the Football League carried out an investigation. In a way, I hope they do.

I hate the fact that I’ve left a game that should have been celebratory, feeling like this. Thanks, (some) Wolves fans.

champagnegrrrls:

You Can Do Better

champagnegrrrls:

You Can Do Better

racinglegends:

Sandiva (red cap), with Frankie Dettori in the irons, won the Lanwades Stud Nell Gywn Stakes at Newmarket earlier today, 16 April.
Photo source: British Champion Series

racinglegends:

Sandiva (red cap), with Frankie Dettori in the irons, won the Lanwades Stud Nell Gywn Stakes at Newmarket earlier today, 16 April.

Photo source: British Champion Series

stencils:

Banksy - GCHQ surveillance in action (by Sa//y)

stencils:

Banksy - GCHQ surveillance in action (by Sa//y)

cronologiafutbolistica:

Kenny Miller con 19 años marca en la final de Play off de ascenso entre Wolverhampton y Sheffield United en Cardiff en 2003.

cronologiafutbolistica:

Kenny Miller con 19 años marca en la final de Play off de ascenso entre Wolverhampton y Sheffield United en Cardiff en 2003.

I’ll never fully shake that sense of absolute impotence when destiny is at work. The feeling will cling to my feet forever, trying to pull me down. There are always lessons to be found in the darkest moments. It’s a moral obligation to dig deep and find that little glimmer of hope or pearl of wisdom. You might hit upon an elegant phrase that stays with you and makes the journey that little bit less bitter. I’ve tried with Istanbul and haven’t managed to get beyond these words: for fuck’s sake.

Caressing the ball was something I had to do. I lifted my eyes to the heavens and asked for help because if God exists, there’s no way he’s French. I took a long, intense breath. That breath was mine, but it could have been the manual worker who struggles to make it to the end of the month, the…