Idea Turf-ed out Despite some gentle cajoling my brother and a mate couldn't be persuaded to make the long trip up to Turf Moor tonight. Mind you I would have been coming from Eastbourne, so that's a five and a half hour drive each way without any allowance for traffic and this bad weather. Not the best preparation for an early flight to Chicago the next day from Heathrow.

Of course sods law could see Andy Gray do to The Clarets what every old boy seems to have done to us this season, and it would be nice to witness but I understand it is hard to lift the general malaise over Addick-dom at the moment, particularly those that have seen close to 30 games this season.

I have had a nice long family weekend despite the bad weather. A 12-hour sleep yesterday only interrupted by my Dad for tea and toast was what being a son is all about. Plenty of good British television as well as an introduction to Christine Bleakley plus the cup shocks. I can't believe some people are moaning about the FA Cup semi-finals. Surely this is the beauty of the cup isn't it? Pah, let's just give the big four the trophies in August and be done with it.

I've also just read that nice Mr Bjorgolfur Gudmundsson at West Ham last night gave Alan Curbishley the vote of confidence. Right-o.

Anyway back to Chicago on Wednesday. We have some friends coming in for St Patrick's Day, which I normally refuse to celebrate by the way mainly because of the hyperbole that it is met with in Chicago. However Christine Bleakley and our mate's boyfriend who is Irish could convince me otherwise just this once.

There is a load of other stuff poodling along in my life at the moment, which should have more lucidity and certainty over the next few weeks. Ooh, I'm a tease aren't I?  ¶ 10:26