I am amazed I have not heard the usual promotion cliche spoken yet.
Normally around this time of year, as the daffodils spring, the afternoons stay light longer - a journalist will roll out a dog-eared Championship promotion cliche "It's as if none of them want to go up!"
This weekend, pre-points deduction QPR won but ourselves, Forest, Cardiff and Swansea all dropped points in seemingly winnable games. Norwich host Bristol City tonight (Monday) but who wouldn't bet against the revitalised West Country mob getting something from Carrow Road - it is an amazing division and more interested in the payola monotony of the Premiership.
About a fortnight ago, I mused that it would be potentially humiliating for us to sneak back into the Premiership because of the clear lack of defensive ability in our squad - although a 0-0 draw on Saturday should feel like an achievement.
However, in view of recent events do we really want to become part of the Premiership circus and see good honest lads like Becchio and Snodgrass be edged out by the fancy-dans of the top flight?
Ashley Cole is first on my radar. The guy is an utter scumbag full stop. I could not give a toss how he treated a vocally challenged, racist, Geordie midget in the name of holy matrimony but if I had been the parent of that poor lad Cole shot with an air-rifle in "a training ground prank" id be pressing for the harshest criminal charges possible so Ashley would be parading around Wormwood Scrubs in his Y-Fronts.
Years ago I worked on the railway. I was told that any prescription drug had to be analyised by a team of experts - I was told that irrespective of my manflu I could not take Nightnurse, full stop. Apparently it contained some component adverse to the safety critical work I was undertaking.
Last week, we had Kolo Toure plead mitigation in having failed a drugs test, he accidentally popped his wifes' slimming pills! That surely is up there with the one about the dog eating my homework sir!
I'm not sure if Toure's excuse was more pathetic than his team-mate Mario Batotelli's for leaving the field in Kiev last Tuesday night - he was allergic to the type of grass they grow in the Ukraine.
I know the Prem is the so-called place to be, but isn't it nice we actually get to play our games on decent days eg: Saturday at decent times eg: 3pm and not at the beck and call of Sky in order to pay the wages of these pampered primadonna Man-Child's along with their footballer WAG's who are more gross than anything off my Big Fat Gypsy Wedding...talking of which did you see those pictures in the paper of Lampard hawking that hound Christina Bleakley around the bling boutiques of Paris.