Three points. You bet!

BEFORE you call the Missing Persons Unit, or check around the local hospitals, I can assure my avid follower that I am still very much alive and kicking.
The trouble is it has taken me three days to climb down off the ceiling.
Bristol Rovers won a game. Repeat, Bristol Rovers won a game.
We beat Swindon Town 3-1 in the west country derby at the Mem and everything in the garden is rosy again.
Suddenly all our players aren't complete and utter rubbish.
Suddenly, we aren't completely doomed to dropping down into the Football League basement, then on to the Blue Square Conference and from there a short march to oblivion.
And suddenly our new manager Dave Penney is a complete miracle worker.
Lower league team with striking resemblance to 70s Brazil 3,
Poor lambs to the slaughter from small town off the M4 1.
And I am ecstatic. Joyous. I can't remember feeling this good . . . well, certainly not since October 16 anyway.
Ah yes, October 16. When we managed to despatch the woefully inadequate Rochdale 2-1 on our own patch. The woefully inadequate Rochdale who, since that defeat, have launched a full-blooded assault on a playoff spot while we have sunk into deep relegation doodoo. And haven't won once.
Mind you, I reckon our poor run has a lot to do with Jonesy.
Jonesy, the Luton Town follower in the office, who doubles up as the world's worst gambler.
I wouldn't say it is a gambling problem . . . but the problem is he isn't any good at gambling.
Shortly after that Rochdale result he suddenly started to taking a great interest in ROOOVVVERS, as he began to shout at the top of his voice in a hideous attempt to copy my Brizzle dialect.
Every Saturday he was asking: "So, Rippers, will your boys score today?"
Of course, that is the million dollar question. All I know is that I wouldn't put money on it.
It didn't dissuade him, though, and every match since he has put his hard earned on both sides scoring in every game that Rooovvvers play.
It came to a head against Sheffield Wednesday when the Gas somehow managed to forge ahead early on.
"Now I need Wednesday to score, Rippers. I'm sure your boys can get another one later but both sides must score to win me some money."
Well, his wish came true. They scored. And scored. And scored. And scored. And scored. And scored.
And he was right, we did get another. We lost 6-2.
Unfortunately, this doesn't earn him any money. Because he needs another seven predictions to come in. So he's cursed us, but not won anything anyway.
I kid you not, I have started getting rather narky with him, accusing him of putting a hex on us by willing the opposition to score.
On Saturday, with the Gas 2-0 up through Good Will Hoskins and Joker4 (or Jo Kuffour to those uninitiated in Rovers website talk), and he is at it again.
"Now, Rippers, I really need Swindon to score. You won't mind if they get one, will you?"
I give him a glare that would curdle milk. "Oooh, don't be like that!" he says.
"It's all your fault we're where we are. In the relegation zone," I moan.
He looks stunned and, to be honest, the logic doesn't really follow.
But these are the straws we football league followers clutch at when things start to go pear shaped.
Thinking about it, I say, "I don't mind if Swindon score as long as we win 3-1."
"Deal," he says, as if we have some power over these things.
Yet, lo and behold, it turns out exactly that way.
Not only that, but for the first time in living memory Jonesy actually WINS some money.
My god. With the repo men waiting at the gates of his house, he has managed to ward them off thanks to a series of results that have gone in his favour.
And our luck has turned as well.
Mind you, I can't help asking him: "Please Jonesy, for the sake of my sanity, don't include the Gas in your bet next week."