The welcome return of Reg Timberlake...... The voice of footballing reason in a young hoodlum's world
	'Injury crisis? Tarts!' REG TIMBERLAKE

If you ever needed proof that today's footballer is nothing more than John Inman in shorts, then look no further than this so-called injury crisis that's going around at Adams Park.

Take this Dannie Bulman character. I was suspicious of him as soon as I saw how he spelled his name - let me tell you, my old dad would have beaten me senseless if I'd have called my self Reggie - because it would have made me sound like the sort of man who's ambition was to get into filthy trades such as hairdressing or floristry. 

Anyway, apparently this man has been sat around on his backside moaning of a bruised toe. A BRUISED TOE!!! What a use he'd have been in the trenches holding off the Hun. 'Over the top lads' goes the cry, only to be met with, 'Oooh, I think I've got a spot of chafing from my boots, has anyone got a plaster and some cotton wool'. He'd have been shot instantly - BY ME!!!!!

In my day, players would play with any injury, from muscle strains to outright breakages. Indeed my old teammate Cyril Simmonds used to get the local bobby to thrash his legs 'till they were black & blue before a match. Why? To get his adrenaline pumping and to increase his pain threshold. It worked too; he was top scorer until he died mysteriously of blood clots.

It's been a bit wet at the last two home games, and so have the bloody fans. All this grizzling about the kiddies getting soaked in the family stand - I took my young granddaughter Regina to both matches and was delighted that the rain got in. She's got a dreadful chill now, but since the advent of fridges and hot water the youth have gone soft. I visited her today and she's still delirious, a terrible malady, but she'll thank me for it when she has to fight the rest of Europe again to KEEP THE POUND & IMPERIAL MEASURES!!!

Still, I'll be dragging her out of Wycombe General for the FA Cup match against Harrow, because that'll be a proper game of football. You youngsters should watch Harrow Borough and learn, because they'll have men playing for them who practice a trade and play football for fun, just as I did.

I remember my first FA Cup game back in the thirties. I was up at 4am digging my father's prize cow out of a snowdrift, before toiling on the frozen land for 10 hours with nothing but a shovel and a cheery heart. I got home, picked up my kit and ran 10 miles to the ground, only to find I was too late and hadn't been picked. And the likes of Bulman whine about a bruised toe - it's a sick world and make no mistake!

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