davidg has submitted this interesting article and admits that Terry Jones, might actually have a point.

You know that Terry Jones can seem a bit extreme in his mode of expression at times, but I’m beginning to think that, well, he might just have a point.

Until recently, I was what Terry rather hurtfully referred to as a “lemming”. At the start of the season, we had a new management team in place, which seemed to offer much promise. We had a “plan”, and an appearance of a new resolve and sense of purpose surrounded the club. Nobody thought it would be easy, but my sense of optimism was duly renewed; after the Mc***** debacle, we were going somewhere.

However, if supporters are to retain a sense of optimism, they have to be thrown a few crumbs of sustenance for their optimism to feed on, and Xmas and New Year has seen us placed on a starvation diet by the club. Aston Villa FC is sick, and now in intensive care. It is currently displaying a remarkable facility of being simultaneously dead from the neck up and the neck down. Our esteemed owner is a headless chicken, whose leadership qualities are such as to inspire everyone else associated with the club to follow his example.

On the park, we lack organisation, leadership, and a sense of direction. We’re about nine players short of a team. Our defence has more holes in it then Rab C Nesbitt’s string vest. Our midfield disappears faster than Lord Lucan on Shergar. We are, quite simply, pitiful.

Yes, I was a lemming, but my optimism has slowly given way to anxiety. After the last few weeks, I’ve stopped worrying, as my anxiety has given way to hopeless resignation. The Premier League is a hostile, pitiless environment, and I’ve accepted the inevitability of relegation from it, because I now think that we’re so bad that even Guardiola with a budget of £200 mill couldn’t arrest and reverse our state of meltdown between now and the end of the season. If Aston Villa FC was a horse, it would be shot, and its owner charged with cruelty to a dumb animal. As Popeye used to say, “it’s all I can stands, cause I can’t stands no more”.

Yes, that Terry Jones, he’s outspoken, but he has a point, which is most likely more than we’ll have come five o’clock on Saturday. Thanks, Lerner, thanks Faulkner, thanks Lambert. I’m off down the pub to see how many whiskies it takes to get a lemming drunk.