I see it as brutally lacerating and carelessly the viscera, soft tissue and organs out of a warm, fresh carcass, pulling the veins and attached adipose tissue out from the torso and letting it splatter idly across the hot foetid flesh of the upper torso. As the entity struggles to stay alive through this grisly trauma, gout upon gout of vermillion haemaglobin rockets across the room, impacting with a hollow splat onto everything it hits. The pure evil of this grim act, coupled with the firing and snapping of synaptic messages across the grey, exposed, neural network causes Sheffield United to twitch and pop in a frightening manner. The breaths into the exposed, wobbling lung-tissue become shallower, weaker until about ten to five on a early March Saturday evening, the final rictus stare freezes across the once-beautiful face of the football club we love. It finished Sheffield United nil, Rochdale nil. This is Stuart Hall for Five Live...