Chris Burke, 2 year deal. Better late than never, one supposes.
Jack Hunt, right back from Palearse, on loan until January, because Lichaj is still broken. Everybody's still broken.
I have great pleasure in announcing that Michael Mancienne has agreed to join us on a 3 year deal. His versatility will be a great asset in helping us achieve our goal. - Fazzer.
"And what kind of player will Nottingham Forest, or some other club be getting? Riera is a consummate professional with a winning pedigree, two intangibles which make him worth a try. On top of that, Riera is great with the ball at his feet, not a surprise after nine years at La Masia, he is good in the air and at 6ft 1in will be able to compete physically in the English game.
I cannot guess the politics and other reasons for his departure from Barcelona but I will follow Riera’s career closely. He has the potential to become a leader for a first division team in years to come, whether that be England, back in Spain or abroad."
Another signing! Louis Laing, centre back, on a one-year deal, by the end of which he should be on solid food.
A cursory look at the released fixtures confirms that next season Forest will be mostly playing away.
Large Veldwijk went home for a few days to Mull, but the Verhoek moment is over - he's signed. Whatever happened to Verhoek?
Matthew Fryatt, 3 year deal. Refuse to call him Matty. Sounds like knotted hair. Maybe we'll call him Chip.
Danny Fox has signed a three year deal.
Three left backs seems a bit of over-compensation for all those years we went without one. He's probably better than Harding, but probably nowhere near as good as Cohen. Please don't move Cohen to midfield. Cohen was morphing into Pearce mark 2 at left back. That's all we have to say about that.
Steve Wigley has left Fulham to join Stuart Pearce at Forest. Here he is seen in his England days, eating a Serbian's arm.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
to the last syllable of recorded time;
and all our yesterdays have lighted fools
the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more. It is a tale
told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
signifying nothing.
