"And he winds up a speculative shot..."

Hola fellows.
There appears to be a thick layer of dust settled on all of the old electrical appliances and some rangy spiders loping about the place but with any luck I'll hoover them up over the coming months.
I've called this post "And he winds up a speculative shot..." because I'm a bastard for football commentary and also because this return post is a rather speculative effort at re-immersing myself in the world of football writing. I've been away for a while, if you ask where I may well let me gaze drift skyward for a few moments and then drag a bottle of Captain Morgan's across the desk and pour myself a double.

I have been babbling away on Twitter however, hit me up @Johnny_Rudge for some ABOSLUTELY SMASHING BANTER LIIIIKE! And while tweeting away there are a number of things I've wanted to elaborate on past the now mythical 140 character limit.

I work a thirty seven and a half hour job, seven am to three pm and so balancing a social life that includes at least three trips to the pub, seeing my lady friend every night and trying to write something interesting enough to throw in your faces can prove quite a challenge. I've decided to get organised and set myself a writing rota. Why am I telling you these mundanities? Because I'll forget if I don't.

So every Sunday, Monday and Thursday I'll hit you with a short blog just to fill you in on what has caught my eye in football over the preceding days. If anyone out there in this barren landscape known as the inter-web is still reading then I hope to see you knocking about the place again. Richard Sneekes has grown terribly lonely over the past few months.

Let's not leave him alone again, he's broken all the Meccano, practising his half-volleys.