A game in which... Orient proved that the National League is actually a doddle and that we'll win the division at a canter. JOKE, JOKE... alright, calm down everyone, why so serious? I'll tell you this much though: there was enough promise in last night's performance to suggest that the Os have a pretty good chance of winning every game they play on the actual-sized pitch of Brisbane Road.
So given that we will lose every single away fixture, by my calculations that means we'll end up with 69 points and hence just miss out on the play-offs. And given everything that's happened to the club in recent times, that would be an absolute disgrace. Travis out. ANOTHER JOKE! Jesus, what is it with you lot today?
Moment of magic... The moment David Mooney slid into the box to poke a Jake Caprice cross into the net, evoking memories of the heady days before he started trying to chip the keeper with every single goal attempt. And what better epitomised the joyous fact that we have #OurClub back than the sound of "... he used to be shite, but now he's alright..." ringing out from all four sides of the ground apart from the West Stand?
Praise be to... Jake Caprice. Orient have a proud history of attacking right backs, from Stan Charlton to... nope, that's it. Stephen Purches? Anyway: Caprice has stepovers in his locker, and that's where they should stay, under a heavy duty padlock. But nonetheless the "model" professional (I'm required by law to make that joke) was a constant menace to the workers of Solihull's Jaguar Land Rover plant and laid on the cross for David Mooney's goal. You beauty.
The bit where I moan about something or slag someone off... Yes, that's right, just because Nigel Travis, Kent Teague et al saved Leyton Orient from the brink of extinction that does not make anyone associated with the club exempt from this blog's solemn duty to gratuitously complain about stuff. To wit: Steve Davis's post-match interviews, which I would generously describe as "soul-crushingly boring" and less generously describe as PLEASE-GOD-FIND-ME-SOME-PAINT-TO-WATCH-DRYING-MAKE-THIS-STOP-PLEASE-PLEASE-NO-MORE. Almost makes you yearn for the inexplicably hostile and aggressive interview technique of Ian Hendon. Almost.
New regime watch... "We need a big, strong, powerful forward," said Steve Davis in the wake of the Sutton defeat, no doubt channelling the words of his boss, Martin Ling. Curiously, the baby Ling's first words at the tender age of 13 months were "We need a big, strong, powerful forward" and Orient's director of football has been on a life mission to find one ever since. Without success. One season Ling tried to convince us that 5ft 9in Ryan Jarvis was the big, strong, powerful forward we'd all been waiting for. Another time he signed local brickie Sam Parkin. The quest goes on...
Meanwhile on TV...
"Hi Sam, it's your mum."
"Hi mum. Did you see the game on telly?"
"No I was out I'm afraid. But I told all my friends from the church to watch"
"Ah, right..."
"You did comb your hair didn't you?"
"Yes mum"
"And you didn't bite your nails with all those TV cameras around?"
"No"
"And no picking your nose?"
"No mum"
"Of course, sorry Sammy, I know you wouldn't embarrass me on the telly"
"Erm, there was just one thing..."
