The Weekly Bobbins: Reading’s Familiar Swamp
In his final post-match column of the season, Bobbins delves into the increasingly intolerable Leam Richardson era.
It’s the morning after the night before – the annual shuffle to the Purple Turtle where Reading fans usually gather to either celebrate or commiserate the season. This time there was nothing to celebrate, but plenty to unload. A season shared, yes, but one full of anguish, turmoil and absolutely no character to cling to.
If you’d told me back in August that we’d get through two managers, briefly flirt with the playoffs, only for her to bin us off without a second thought by Spring, I’d have said you were talking nonsense. And yet here we are, back in the familiar swamp of toxicity and rage – the sort we haven’t seen since the Dai Yongge era, when the villain was invisible. It hits differently when the problem is standing right in front of you.
After the night fizzled out, I went home, collapsed into bed, and couldn’t settle. The game, the month, the whole miserable season kept circling. Maybe it was the alcohol having a quiet word with my subconscious, but just before waking I dreamt of someone carrying a cardboard box – the classic “you’re done here” TV prop.
A stuffed bear. A ruler. A few books.