Poetry – that’s what Saturday was. Football poetry. The Man will be honest. Those two points we lost at Her Majesty’s Stadium have played on the mind. But not any more.

Quite how it was still 1-1 by the time Saturday’s game got to injury time is anyone’s guess. We brought our League One shooting boots, while at times The Man wondered whether their goalkeeper had an extra pair of limbs under his shirt.

But we got a decision: Reading should’ve definitely had a penalty.

We got an advantage: their midfielder’s red card was about three months late, given he hacked Korey to the ground in the 3-3 robbery.

And we got payback: Holty pipping I Harte before he could roll over in a mix of clutching his shin and waving his arm in the air.

It was as sweet as they come. So sweet, The Man was sure the earth moved.

Or at least the Barclay. Maybe it’s those extra seats in the upper tier.

• It was only a matter of time before McGnarly fancied a piece of the action on the pitch.

Both the catch and throw were impressive work.

And just like Own Goal being one of our top scorers a few years ago, our chief has now made a more positive impact on the pitch than the likes of Adrian Leijer, David Carney and Alan Gow put together.

• It’s probably time for the club to start offering health checks for some of the Carra Rud faithful.

It’d be easy enough to sort.

Just put people by the turnstiles for the last 10 minutes of every home game and check if those that come past are feeling all right.

Although clearly they’re not, given someone arriving for the 85th minute on would have a much better case. Still, it’s nice to ask.

• So it’s dirty Leeds again on Saturday. About 16 months ago we were robbed by Fraser Forster’s blank moment. That brought one hell of a sick feeling.

So maybe we can treat them to a 2010-11 vintage this weekend, a late show to top all late shows.

Usually The Man would think it’s too much to ask for.

But that lot up there deserve it, and it wouldn’t be like Lambo’s men to pass the opportunity up.

• The Man was pointed in the direction of half-Mitchell brother and our former caretaker (there have been a few) boss Jim Duffy.

Apparently Peter Grant’s equally able assistant is the new man in charge at Clyde.

They are the team 13 points adrift at the bottom of the Scottish Third Division.

Basically, go any lower and you’ll find Scottish rugby. Not football.

At least he should help them avoid relegation, given there isn’t any.