Well this is nice isn’t it? The 35 odd people who followed the blog are now the only ones to see it. I’ve set it to private, now it’s just us. You and me. I’ve spent so long on the bottom that everything looks like up. I think that was Neil Young, who knows? The reason I’ve taken it out of circulation is that, well it was too big. I was getting a lot of traffic and attention. I didn’t like it. It was affecting my football love. Match days started to become days of drinking with people I hardly knew. People who would read my thoughts on supporting Wolves and not really understand what it’s actually like to grow up a few yards away from Molineux and to live and actually breath the air of my club. I had some doughnut constantly denigrating Costa in my earhole last Saturday at Barnsley. He knew me but I didn’t know him. It was a provocation. It was reading my love for Costa on the blog and he got a hard on using it as a screwdriver to get under my armour. It was shameful. What did I do? I looked at Nuno for a few minutes with his arms crossed. It was good. Thank you Nuno.

I know opposition fans didn’t like my thoughts about their teams and I can understand that. But I’m not writing for them, I’m writing for a handful of people. Not the 35,000 who have viewed the site this week. I don’t feel that Shaky Jake should be thought about by these people, I don’t think Gaz Mastic should have been either. I haven’t used them. I’ve been inspired by them, my story is theirs and yours I suppose too. The posts may have been seen as pretentious but that was never a thing. It was just love thats all. My club can rarely do wrong in my eyes. Managers, players, whatever. Now me Jake and Gaz can get on with knowing each other and learning to be friends and that’s good too.

We went to dinner with Alex Rae and the things he said there made me want to punch him in the face. How fucking dare he say he preferred to play for Sunderland. You see? That was his truthful speech. He’s a lovely man. But the second he said he loved playing for another club he became the enemy. I shouldn’t be invited to these places and the blog has made that possible. I have met former players at these dinners and I have found them lacking. I have met my heroes and seen them just as me, mortal and aged. Bitter in some cases and much jealousy too. I have met other Wolves fans too, people who would normally pass me by without a glance and I have found them lacking too, lacking in that they lack the capacity to understand what is actually happening in this city. I could weep. Sometimes being crazy is a strange and lonely place.

I’ll carry on doing the blog for everybody here because I’m scared that if I stop some line of Kwan will be broken and I don’t want that at all. We have to stop believing and start knowing. But at last I can breathe easy and keep getting to know Gaz and Jake a little better by maybe going to see them for a chat instead of farting around trying to explain why Rafa Mir is like a shopping trolley and who the fuck Melissa Multipack is to people I don’t know on Social Media.

The world will keep turning I suppose and there will be other Wolves blogs, people wanting to write stuff about Wolves and that’s good. But this place will be where the ‘strange’ people talk about Wolves and this place will be that corner of the Southbank where the rain used to blow in, we would huddle around in small groups because there was only five thousand of us there. We would laugh and sing and that pain of our distress would go away for a little while but we have to remember that pain is also the thing that holds us together in mad times like these. Yes, that’s what this blog should be, just friends talking together at half time.

Do we still resist everything? Yes we do. We resist not supporting your team 100% We resist denigrating your own players. We resist your petty arguments. We resist your poor ideas as well. Now me and Horace can carry on getting to know each other properly and that has been interrupted over the last month. My friendship with him is a solid and real thing and we can share a coffee again and a cheese toastie if he’s buying while we talk about Wolves and have a good fucking moan about other things.