Blues 1, Bolton 2

The worst thing about losing a game is when you concede with the last kick of the match. What compounds this misery is when it occurs at around 9.45pm, leaving you incapable of sleeping for hours as - despite your best efforts (and rational discussion with yourself about how football is hardly important, and wouldn't you rather dream about something idyllic like wandering through Vancouver or sitting in a beautiful sunlit room in your as-yet-unpicked-and-unbought house in Colchester?) - you run through the permutations, anguish and resignation.

I'm sure most other football fans feel the same way, but it can be damned hard supporting Birmingham City most of the time. I wonder what it's like to support a team that has won major trophies in its history? Does it give you a crumb of comfort when things are bad? Probably not, especially if it happened before you were even born, but there we are.

It was also nice to see - in a completely sarcastic way, of course - that Robbie Savage was sat in the stands having timed his written transfer request to perfection. Why not wait until this morning - after a vitally important game and 10 days before our next Premiership fixture - before doing so? I've expressed sympathy with his predicament, but lately despite his justifiable worries about his family, his complete selfishness and lack of consideration for others - 50,000 Bluenoses and the club itself - has really shone through. Why should his name hog the headlines when tragedies unfold on the world stage that manage to bring out the best in so many people?

Mr Savage should remember this. In the summer, when the deal he signed on joining Blues still had another two years to run, he successfully negotiated a lucrative new four-year deal. Now, six months after signing that deal, he wants out. I'm too angry to write any more on this subject, because it's not about Robbie Savage; it's about Birmingham City FC. And while I applaud the board's determination to keep him, the sooner he's gone, the better.