Just 96% To Go

Exeter City 1-1 Norwich City

This was a match that couldn't end soon enough. That's not to say it was dull, although it was by no means a classic. All anyone really wanted to hear about at St. James' Park was the surprise sacking of Bryan Gunn and who might be the next man in the City hot seat.

Sure, the canaries fans cheered when Jens Berthel Askou headed in the opening goal of the game early in the second half and of course they were worried when Exeter equalised through substitute Richard Logan and went on to look the most likely winners but this match really just got in the way.

After the game we were to get the first comment from the club on what had gone on over the past 24-hours and what we could expect to happen next. Chief Executive David McNally gave a thoughtful interview - one in which you felt he was doing his best not to let anything slip. He did point out that already we have had about 4 per cent of the league season. I had never thought of it like that before. Does he break his life down into minute statistics? I have visions of him getting a cup of coffee on arriving in his office in the morning and thinking 'well that's the first 1 per cent of today done.'

The one definitive was that Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink will not be the next manager. I didn't think he would - but some media outlets were reporting confidently that talks had already taken place and that JFH's arrival was imminent. The former Chelsea striker's name had come out of the blue but we know by now that things can still be true even when they sound unlikely.

The old fashioned Exeter ground provided one of those awkward commentary challenges: A pillar blocking the view of one of the goals. I wonder how many moments of brilliance haven't got the write up or the reaction they deserve in the media because they were struck from behind that red piece of metal?

During the first half I saw Norwich's captain Gary Doherty running towards the pillar as the ball dropped from the sky. When he appeared the other side he had his head in hands. I guessed he must have headed the ball over the bar.

As the second half kicked off I was approached by a man who stuck the back of his hand in front of my eyes to show me some numbers he had scrawled on his skin in biro. Was this man trying to give me his phone number? Was this an unexpected look at the chatting-up technique of Devon's gay community? I gave him my best Englishman-abroad-confused-I-don't-understand-look. He showed me the numbers again. I was going to have to let him down gently so I removed my headphones:

Me: "What?"

Him: "That's the official attendance."

I suppose it's good for the rainforests.