Ben

Seeing Kevin Doyle in a Wolves shirt seems to have changed my whole outlook on life, and with a glut of signings following the Irishman, things just get better and better.

My darling Irish wife thinks my upturn in mood is exclusively down to a flourishing marriage and little Wolves dribbler.

She certainly has a point. My mojo is well and truly back, but I don’t want to burst our blissful balloon by attributing my lusty haze to another beauty from the Emerald Isle.

Sod lying back and thinking of England. I’m spread eagled on the bed thinking of ‘Super Kev’ in an Old Gold shirt. I’d like to say I have imagined him scoring 15 so far (all at the South Bank end) but it is usually all over well before then.

A real passion killer would be the sight of him getting crocked, which really would be a cold shower moment for all us fans. The thought seems to loiter in the dark recesses of my mind. Oops. I have gone all miserable again.

Back to a positive thought…What music is going to play on the Molineux PA system when Doyle hits the onion bag? Or Ronald Zubar? How about Abba’s ‘Zubar Trouper?!’ Hmm, maybe not.

The Premier additions have got me thinking about the last Wolves signings to get me so excited. I can only liken the Doyle experience to the time Graham Taylor captured John de Wolf.

The mere mention of his name still makes me smile, and some of his performances will live long in the memory (Port Vale away anyone?). Shame he got crippled and lost any pace he ever had.

I was excited at the prospect of Steve Corica bizarrely, probably because Mark McGhee said he was better than Kinkladze, or words to that effect. I think history tells us he got that one slightly wrong.

Other feel good moments were when Graham Turner was given some of Sir Jack’s money to spend. Kevin Keen, David Kelly and Geoff Thomas had me dreaming of an automatic promotion, but it didn’t work out quite that way.

Right then, off to watch the Sky Sports ‘breaking news’ ticker bar. It’s about time Richard Dunne signed!

And so, just like Max Branning’s epic dalliance with Stacy Slater last year, things are really starting to hot up at Molineux. And I’m not talking about the weather around Wolverhampton.

Being a Wolves fan has never been so exciting, so I can only liken it to the ginger chap in Eastenders, who was blissfully humping the intriguingly filthy Slater girl from Albert Square for god knows how long. (Poor Bradley)

That whole saga seemed to go on for ages before something memorable happened, rather like our close season transfer activity until this week.

Just like Max, Jez was scurrying around behind the scenes, generating increasing skepticism until the ‘doof, doof, doof, doof, doof, duh duh duh duh’ moment – Kevin Doyle unveiled in Old Gold.

And then, like our local bus service, another two sub plots arise with Andrew Surman and now Greg Halford about to sign.

My Max Branning analogy now becomes ever more tenuous, as he was ultimately miserable, where as we are all happy as Coronation Street.

Things aren’t meant to be like this, and like the searing weather conditions, I suggest we lap it all up while we can, because it won’t always be like this.

Halford was a thoroughly objectionable little oik last year, when he defiantly proclaimed that Sheffield United’s squad was ‘a million times better’ than ours after we won 3-1 in Iwelumo’s finest hour.

Better replace the sour grapes with humble pie if you sign Greg. Either that or some thicker shin pads for the training ground.

But all that aside, another encouraging signing. The more I think about it the more I like it. He is feisty, quick, tall, and boasts a throw like Rory Delap’s.

We’re like a brand of Hot Chocolate…Loads of options! If he was left footed I’d be happier, but what the heck.

Rumours around cyber space continue to link us with a well known, high profile defender, so it sounds like the deals are far from done too.

A centre half is a must, and I still have reservations about the left back slot. Will Elokobi rise to the challenge? Surely not Ward, and my favourite Matt Hill certainly isn’t everyone’s cup of cocoa.

Enough hypothesizing! Leave that to Big Mick, who is already scripting happier times for us than poor Max, Stacey Slater and THAT tub of cherry flavoured vaseline.