Picker’s Diary – Game Week #36

Oh Hull, I love you and I hate you. In fact, I don’t love you, it’s just I have a full on man crush on Marco Silva.

It wasn’t Marco Silva that stopped me grabbing three points last week. Eldin Jakupovic’s penalty save brought to an end a long winning run that had got me thinking “you know what, maybe I could win this thing…or if not win it, maybe get in the top three.”

So, damn you Hull. But I hope you stay up. And even though my #wengerout #marcosilva_in campaign went nowhere, I’m sure bigger things beckon for you, Marco Silva you beautiful, beautiful football coach.

In less creepy matters, onto to this week’s fixtures. I’m really left with the scrapings of a barrel that itself fell off the back of a lorry into a steaming heap of slurry. West Brom anyone? No?  How about West Ham? No? Well failing that I have only one real choice and that’s Nothing to Play For’s Leicester City, who I am banking on narrowly getting past Why on Earth Do They Exist in this League’s, Watford. My god. It’s come to this.

If I had other choices (and I do, but I just go into every weekend thinking Liverpool will not win), my eyes would be lighting up at the aforementioned Marco Silva Tigers taking on Sunderland. Really, if dictionaries did have pictures (and they never will, apart from children’s dictionaries), and that dictionary listed “Basket Case” it would have a picture of haunted owl David Moyes slouched in the dugout. If you still have a Hull pick left, congratulations on waiting for this fixture. Likewise if you somehow have Chelsea who are against a pointless Frankenstein of a team in Middlesborough.

Elsewhere, if it’s a sunny day in Bournemouth Stoke could literally put their towels on sun loungers as their long farewell to the season – which seemed to start in October – continues. I pick The Cherries (geddit?!!!) to win this one, but honestly couldn’t care less. I can’t wait for June.

My wild card of the weekend goes on Crystal Palace having the nous to undo Manchester City. This will again prove to Sam Allardyce what Sam Allardyce knows already and that is that Sam Allardyce is the smartest man alive. And that’s not a giant chip on his shoulder but a dent caused when his head (which is so full of clever) tipped over. He may be clever, he may not, but he’ll never be Marco Silva.

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