johnh

Agree with this and would also add that when we play the top teams in the division we  seem to have the mental attitude that 'we can't win this one'.  When we play our best, it seems to be against those sides who are a similar level to us. We know it's going to be hard but we have a chance of a win, so we work hard.  It's a psychological problem which is down to the manager to sort out.
The other (and major) problem is that we only have the bare bones of decent Premiership players.  The bench is mostly Championship level players and we can't afford many injuries.

Agree with this and would also add that when we play the top teams in the division we  seem to have the mental attitude that 'we can't win this one'.  When we play our best, it seems to be against those sides who are a similar level to us. We know it's going to be hard but we have a chance of a win, so we work hard.  It's a psychological problem which is down to the manager to sort out.
The other (and major) problem is that we only have the bare bones of decent Premiership players.  The bench is mostly Championship level players and we can't afford many injuries.

Thought Liverpool did well to hold Fulham to 0 - 1.   Be fair, with all the injuries they have and no crowd on the Kop, everything is against them. You can't help laughing though.😁

Thought Liverpool did well to hold Fulham to 0 - 1.   Be fair, with all the injuries they have and no crowd on the Kop, everything is against them. You can't help laughing though.😁

Thought Liverpool did well to hold Fulham to 0 - 1.   Be fair, with all the injuries they have and no crowd on the Kop, everything is against them. You can't help laughing though.😁

Thought Liverpool did well to hold Fulham to 0 - 1.   Be fair, with all the injuries they have and no crowd on the Kop, everything is against them. You can't help laughing though.😁

We are closing in on that time of the year when Her Indoors agrees with everything I suggest, I can do no wrong and am truly Lord of my Manor.  29th, 30th, 31st February,

Leeds hammered them tonight. 3 - 0  should have been five or six.

We are closing in on that time of the year when Her Indoors agrees with everything I suggest, I can do no wrong and am truly Lord of my Manor.  29th, 30th, 31st February,

We are closing in on that time of the year when Her Indoors agrees with everything I suggest, I can do no wrong and am truly Lord of my Manor.  29th, 30th, 31st February,

We are closing in on that time of the year when Her Indoors agrees with everything I suggest, I can do no wrong and am truly Lord of my Manor.  29th, 30th, 31st February,

Don't accept your excuses for a diabolical performance.  Four days for highly trained athletes is plenty of time to recover. (They did, after all, only play an extra 30 minutes).  It was too many players not being arsed.

No excuses, they are full-time professional sportsmen.  I once played a (semi-pro) Yorkshire League game on Saturday. A Leeds Sunday League game on Sunday morning and a West Riding County trial game on Sunday afternoon and put more effort in on Sunday afternoon than several of our lot and I wasn't getting paid!

I had the Pfizer jab too and for a couple of days got a sharp pain if I touched where they injected. Then found I had a sore finger. (The oldies are the best!).

I had the Pfizer jab too and for a couple of days got a sharp pain if I touched where they injected. Then found I had a sore finger. (The oldies are the best!).

I had the Pfizer jab too and for a couple of days got a sharp pain if I touched where they injected. Then found I had a sore finger. (The oldies are the best!).

I had the Pfizer jab too and for a couple of days got a sharp pain if I touched where they injected. Then found I had a sore finger. (The oldies are the best!).

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!

Steve, probably AK47's too?

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!

A NICE DAY OUT AT THE SEASIDE.
It was about 1946, the war was over.  I was 10 and my brother a year older.  Our 'gang' decided to have a day out in Formby near Liverpool.  Formby was a paradise for children.  Miles and miles of golden beaches with sand dunes and pine tree woods.  About a dozen lads made the trip, ranging in age from 10 to about 16.  Our Mum had agreed we could go, after a bit (lot) of persuasion, and we set off with our rucksack filled with sandwiches and a bottle of cream soda.
We got the bus to Orrell station and then the electric train  which ran between Liverpool and Southport.  When we got off the train at Formby there was a walk of some two or three miles to get to the beach. First, we walked down the roads flanked by large expensive and posh houses.  Then, the road was flanked by the thick fir tree woods and finally through the sand dunes to the beach.
We started off by playing 'war games' in the sand dunes and after about an hour of this we flopped down on the hot dry sand to eat our sandwiches. After we had eaten our sandwiches we decided to out to the sea (Liverpool Bay). The sea was quite far out and we had to walk several hundred yards to reach it.  No one had a swimming costume so we just paddled in the warm water (the Irish sea in summer is a lot warmer than the North sea) and caught small crabs. We had been there for about half an hour when we heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms and beckoning us to come towards them.  We then saw that we had been cut off by the tide.  The channel between us and safety was about thirty yards wide and flowing very fast.  The older boys ordered us all to link arms and with the oldest at each end and the youngest (including me)  in the middle, we started to walk through the fast flowing water. I couldn't swim and was nervous of water, so was not best pleased.  The water came up to my waist.  We eventually reached safety and were given a good talking to by the men who explained how dangerous the tides could be.  Chastened, we returned to the sand dunes where we had to dry our clothes. After a while, we perked up and one of the older boys said that he knew a place in the pine forest where the Army trained. True to his word, he found the place.  It was a small valley.  At one end were machine gun emplacements  made out of logs.  At the other end was a mound of sand from where the soldiers fired at the targets. The older boy instructed us to dig in the loose sand with our hands.  After a while we had unearthed four or five live rounds of .303 rifle ammunition. The older boy said that he had found some on a previous trip and still had them hidden at home.  He said that when we got back to Liverpool he would get the other bullets, open them up with a hacksaw to get the gunpowder and make a bomb.  We all thought that this sounded like a sensible idea.
When we got back to Liverpool, we congregated at the brick air raid shelter and the older boys went off to get the hacksaw and the other bullets. They returned, and also brought a small tin tobacco box which was going to 'house' the bomb.  When all the bullets had been opened the gunpowder was put into the tin and a piece of tape (the fuse) was fed into the tin through a hole.  The boys had also brought some matches and they lit the tape and we all ran for our lives.  Nothing happened. It was lit again and again until we ran out of matches, but still no explosion. Finally, one of the older boys took the tin and poured the gunpowder down the nearest drain.  
Disappointed, we decided that it was time to go home for tea.  We walked in the door and our Mum said 'did you have a nice day at the seaside?' We just said 'yes'.
Some years ago when Mum was in her eighties, (like I am now!) my brother and I told her the whole story of our day out - but she refused to believe us!