I am reassured that i'm not the only one still having these dreams.
I once dreamt that I started for the Albion, only to realise minutes into the match that I was completely naked.
Definitely one of Withdean's darker moments.
I dream of a team of Meades away at the Keepmoat Stadium, 81-0 down at halftime. For the second half, the skies opening above us, which we like, and manager Meade brings on SuperMeade, who's been out with IBS for a month or so. The finest power of SuperMeade is his ability to convince all folk of his perfect innocence. In doing so, he smashes the kneecap of one Doncaster player, the jaw of another and slashes the buttocks of their one goalkeeper with a scalpel hidden in his goat hair right sock, and no guilt is possibly flung his way. We end up losing 86-14 and have one hell of a champagne bath afterwards, all speaking and saying the same stupid thing at the same time, congratulating SuperMeade as he oddly starts refilling his glass by dipping it into the giant tub we're in, the fluid tainted with Meade-sweat and urine, and drinks with a slightly traitorous look in his supposedly sinless eyes.
Just out of interest, had anyone else noticed or were they just carrying on and paying no attention? Sounds like one for the amateur psychologists among us.