.... we stand on the trapdoor and the nous becomes a noose ..... and is placed around our collective necks, to all those who made it possible.
The running of the club has been a masterclass in fiscal ingenuity.
The Chairman a beacon of light, guiding us through a minefield.
The manager for his rousing leadership and inspiration.
The players for their eccentric style of play and ability to make former managers declare they can do nothing more with them and ....leave.

These are the memories I shall take with me as we hurtle through the trapdoor thinking how ironic that when we had nowt for years we scraped through, yet now, with all the 'ability' we really had cocked up big time.
Mystery that.

Let us not forget the unquestioning support of the local journalism fraternity..........................

Oh god forbid.... The power of the press. If armchair ' detectives' can ask questions why couldn't they . I must apologise as I naively assumed that that's what journalosts do, question. As opposed to become part of the fantasy world woven before our very eyes,

Imagine having this need to be a hanger on at pools.

Where the owners are known only for their bankruptcy past and leach like behavior.

Who the fuck would be that sad to want to be a part of that.

Is hartlepool so shite now that these c unts are the only game in town.