Mr Kipling may have made some exceedingly good cakes but the literary one also penned some fine words that seem highly appropriate at this time.
It's true to say this season that all about there are plenty who have lost their heads and landed us in this plight but going into Sunday's battle we prefer to heed the advice given later in that famous poem:
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
'Hold on' indeed. This battle for survival is far from over. We have to believe that victory will keep us in the Premier League and we have to believe that victory is achievable.
If that isn't enough then we can applaud the team from the pitch, knowing that failings elsewhere ultimately let us down but anything less than three points on Sunday will prove that the men charged with saving this club weren't up to the job.
If those lucky enough to have tickets don't back the team to the hilt, then they have also failed in their duty and will be culpable for what follows. If we give up then that allows the players to do the same.
If our encouragement isn't enough then - and only then - can we look at others whose efforts may have been lacking.
This will be a day to show some pride - whatever the outcome - to treat triumph or disaster exactly the same, to hold our heads up high and keep the black and white flag flying. To keep the faith.
No tears, no moping, no recriminations, no regrets.
All for one and one for all. United.
If we can all do that, then:
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Mag, my son!
:crying football::amen:
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