So we are off to play Palace managed by that slime-ball Pardew; if he was made of chocolate he’d lick himself to death. Death by chocolate. Even the Palace fans can’t stand the creep. Dispense with them and we are travelling back in time to Burnley where until the railways were built it really had 15 minutes earlier on the clock than Manchester. Noon in Manchester was quarter to in Burnley. If you’re reading this in Salford, that meant the little hand pointed at 12 and the big hand pointed at 9.

Founder member of the football league they have done OK this season, scourge of Scouseland they beat both Liverpool and Everton but only managed a draw at the swamp.

Scariest thing about Burnley is their manager who’s been gargling with a sack of road grit. Don’t expect any slip-ups then. International week, been waiting ages, c’mon the Blues!