Picture a big fat belly. A really big fat belly whose home is the south coast. A huge beachball of a gut covered in blue ink that scrawls an upside down smile, slightly wonky in times roman. It says Portsmouth FC.
Being close to the naval epicentre of Britain's floating fighting industry has done something for the 'Pompeii' fans love of blue ink and the stigma that comes with it. But now times are different and the ship is sailing in a different direction, firmly upstream.
All fans on board, fighting against the winds of change and desperately trying to plug the hole that is leaking through their club.
Hemorraghing is more accurate to what has happened to the fortunes of Portsmouth over the past 18months. A mutiny would have seen less unrest from FA cup glory runs to World class players on ridiculous lottery wages. And therein lies the problem. Lottery wages and misguided wealth spent by a crook?
I'm sorry to offend but look at Leeds, look at O'leary. Surely the time has come to look at Portsmouth, look at Harry?
Has the once loved, neigh, idolised son of the South coast gone and blown a fortune right in front of everyones eyes?
Well, we know that is a yes but has he done it without any sign of management and more signs pointing to mis-management.
You have to feel sorry for the clubs fans, loyally inked and shirtless on another drab Winters night, tirelessly shouting for their United Nations squad to impress on the frost while Harry is tucked up nicely down the road in his Sandbanks mansion having just returned from North London's Jewish community.
Now there's an irony.
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