Lost

It's definitely a landscape that you can happily get lost in. I can wander for hours through the countryside hereabouts, meandering through my own thoughts (most of which currently revolve around the issue of who in the name of Jeff Astle's sacred shirt we get in to replace Roberto Di Matteo at The Hawthorns).

In fact, with the furore surrounding Di Matteo's dismissal, and the excitement of hitting the Spotlight for the first time yesterday, I almost forgot to relate the most significant anecdote of my weekend, which concerns another lost soul. Namely John Inverdale, BBC Sport's veteran broadcaster, who showed up at our humble pub yesterday afternoon asking for directions to UCLAN (the University of Central Lancashire).

He was sipping a pint in a thoughtful manner, while we pondered how best to explain to him that UCLAN is actually located in Preston, and that he'd got off the train at completely the wrong stop. There was no easy way. We broke the news as tactfully as possible, and John demonstrated a true broadcaster's unflappable dignity in receiving this crucial information. He stared down at his drink for several long, pensive moments, before shouting "FUCK!" and running out of the door, back up towards the train station.

John, rest assured, we're all lost in our own individual ways. We're all trying to find the UCLAN in our lives. Only some of us will ever make it to our own personal Preston, but don't worry; whether we get there or not, we'll make the most of the journey.