Twitter ye not

IT all started to go horribly wrong when the I-phone battery died.
Not my I-phone mind. The one belonging to a Gashead who had promised regular updates from the game to the legion of fans who couldn't go to Peterborough. He was going to post regularly on that miracle of modern technology known as Twitter.
The fact that I am even writing those words sends a shiver down my spine.
I have regularly been quoted by a mate as once declaring: "The Internet is a passing fad."
Now I communicate through e-mail, facebook and, yes, Twitter. And I have two blogs.
In fact, I am so busy on the internet social networking, sending cryptic messages to my "friends" and revealing my innermost thoughts across the worldwide web, I have barely any time to speak to real people. And, when I do, I've got little new to say.
It is things like twitter that will eventually sound the death knell of newspapers.
So I guess I am hastening my own demise.

Still, 3pm in the office of the national newspaper where I work and the excitement has reached a crescendo.
At least, my excitement has.
My fellow hacks won't acknowledge the football season has even started until those overpaid prima donnas of the Premier League have laced up their boots and taken to the field. I'm surrounded by Gooners, Yids, Hammers, Chelsea pensioners and the odd Manc.
I've got one eye on Stelling on the big screen to my left, and the twitter feed up on the computer. Now and then I have to hide it so that I look like I am actually doing some work.
But it's hard to concentrate when you know the Gas have kicked off.
And all is going well. Our able correspondent has warned that his battery might be a bit low but his updates are coming through loud and clear.
After five minutes the key points are:
Our fans are louder than theirs.
Our striker Jo Kuffour is making their defenders look like mugs.
Our new defender James Tunnicliffe, on loan from Brighton, is a giant crushing every Posh player in sight.
It won't be long before we go ahead and cruise to opening day victory.
Nothing can go wrong now...

Thirty eight minutes. No goals, but Rovers have gone close.
Then comes the bad news. The battery is on life support, the phone is going off and the running commentary is over for the day.
Bugger.
So it's over to Stelling and Sky Sports. And at least the City are 2-0 down, David James or not. It might not be such a bad day after all.

5pm. I am distraught. 3 poxy 0. Little town in Cambridgeshire 3, Big City in the West country 0. Former Bristol City manager 3 current Bristol Rovers boss 0.
There are no words to describe this feeling. It will take away all my enthusiasm for the rest of the weekend.
The only thing to do is find out what went wrong.
So first the match report on the official Bristol Rovers website.
Of course, I don't expect to read any semblance of truth on here - it's like Russians must have felt when they read Pravda during the golden age of Communism.
Perhaps the goalscorers are right. But there's no guarantee of that.
Other than that it's going to be another sob story. Played really well. Got beaten by three breakaway goals.
Then it's on to the fans forum. At least they tell it like it is.
According to those in the know we need a new striker to replace Ricky Lambert (posted by Sherlock Holmes, no doubt), we need to spend a lot of money, bring in new players and sack the manager.
Yeah, it is all becoming crystal clear. My only question is: Why didn't we do that during the weeks and weeks we had to sort it out during the summer?
And our boss Paul Trollope doesn't make it easier to stomach. He comes out with the normal story of how we had done well, closed them down and restricted their chances. Then - surprise, surprise - they came out after the break and stepped up a gear. We couldn't match them.
They scored. We chased the game. They scored again... and again.
I know the story of the game, thanks Paul, I've read the match report.
What I need to know is what you're going to do about it.
Three-Nil. A hammering. On the opening day of the season.
And you've brought in new players, a new backroom staff, a new plan A, plan B and plan C.
What on earth went wrong?
Did you leave the plans at home? Did your Misses put them in the recycle bin by mistake? Did Peterborough spies infiltrate your training HQ on Friday night and steal them from the safe?
Or is the plain truth that we are just not very good?

It's the early hours of Monday morning now. And it has just dawned on me.
It is only one game.
We have 45 more to go, plus various cup ties and the like.
Last year Norwich lost their first game 7-1 then romped away with the title.
Tuesday is another match. It's the Carling Cup. Away to Oxford.
They have only just got back into the League.
We should walk it.
Shouldn't we?