I awoke on the morning of November 18th from a most enjoyable sleep and pleasant dreams. I had dreamt that Hibs had begun the current season in fine style and were playing an exciting and daring brand of football. For a few weeks Hibs were even top of the league and were keeping all challengers at bay, even the despicable Rangers and Celtic.

My fellow supporters and I were beginning to talk of winning the league and then going on to perform well in Europe next year. The days seemed longer and brighter in my dreams and the prospects for a glorious future were real enough to me. However, something just didn't feel right but it was difficult for me to understand exactly what it was. Even now, some weeks later, I find it unusually challenging to find the words to explain my sense of unease. You know how it is when you are all dressed up for a night on the town? You are wearing your slinkiest, sexiest dress which you know is tantalising and teasing all who see you. You are well aware that everyone is excited by what you are doing and you are turning heads wherever you go, so much so that even those who had previously ignored your charms were now beginning to take notice. You are flattered and, let's face it, pure cheesin' at all the attention you are getting but only you are aware that it is a front you are putting on. You know that even though you look like a million dollars with this sexy, pouting public face you will feel much more secure in the cold light of day with an old jumper and jeans on.

Anyway, as I set off to watch Hibs versus Aberdeen I had an enigmatic smile on my gob at the memory of my dream and what might have been. Hibs, sadly, were total mince, unable to string two passes together, useless in defence and absolutely ineffectual in attack. To let you understand how bad we were get this, our strikers even made Derek Whyte look good! Sitting in the stand at quarter to five I could only wonder what things would have been like if my fanciful dream could have been reality. The only consolation that day was that while Hibs were playing the part of the sheep for the rampaging Aberdonians the long suffering Jambos were also getting roasted over in the City of Culture.

Let's digress. A balloonist was gliding across the sky when he suddenly realised he was lost. He could not recognise any of the landmarks spread out below him so he decided he would have to descend earthwards to seek directions. He hovered a few feet above the ground until someone came along. He enquired of the person "Excuse me, I appear to be lost can you please tell me where I am?". "Certainly" replied the pedestrian "You are in a hot-air balloon and hovering a few feet above the ground" Not at all grateful the balloonist replied "Oh very clever. You must be an engineer" "What makes you say that?" asked the bloke on the ground. "Well you have given me factually correct but totally useless information which does nothing to help me in my current situation" said the balloonist. "Ah, I suppose you must be Chris Robinson" exclaimed the bloke on the ground "as you are still in the same predicament you were in five minutes ago but now it is my fault".

Finally, how did you react when it was announced that Nicole Appleton, a well-known pop singer, was going to give birth to the baby of Liam Gallagher, a well-known idiot? To be honest I was stunned. Ask youself this, would you have unprotected sex with Liam Gallagher? Me neither.

Finally, finally, I almost forgot that it is Christmas time so seasons greetings and best wishes for 2001 to my reader - whoever you are.