Peter Crouch

It says, Hi, Crouchy, Chris and Sid.

Well, well, well, that final chaos card really set the cat amongst the pigeons.

But just like that, it's all over.

Another season done, another league settled.

And if we're being honest, another year in which Chris has brought deep shame upon his family.

Bloody hell.

Yes, harsh.

Forgive me, Sid, but I won't congratulate you again.

Enough has been said about the impressive manner in which you wrapped up this year's league.

I await your title defence with intrigue.

Crouchy, squeaky bum time for a minute there, but lucky for you, however badly you stunk out the Chumbawamba, Chris was always on hand to stink it out worse.

Which brings us to the man of the moment, Mr. Stark himself.

Where do I begin?

There's flashes of hope, Rhea's tactical intervention, the final week point swing, a brief period where there are whispers of an unlikely comeback.

But alas, here we are once more, staring down the barrel of another stomach-churning forfeit.

And all this after last year's title win.

How the mighty have fallen.

Unfortunately for you, the falling hasn't finished just yet.

All will be revealed with this week's forfeit, this year's forfeit.

Stay tuned to next week where I reveal all.