Please let this be the derby where I get to gloat & redecoratepublished at 13:04 BST 26 August
Paul McNicoll
Fan writer

We're still in August, the sun is shining and autumn is right around the corner, but already derby week has crept up on us like that takeaway curry that you swore was mild.
For United's new players, this is baptism of fire. Forget easing yourself into Scottish football with a comfy game against Brechin (no offence Brechin).
No, you're marched into battle up Tannadice Street, trying not to get clipped by an Asda delivery van, before heading straight into the cauldron of Dens.
Dundee, of course, have the bragging rights from the last two derbies. And while those games weren't exactly played in black-and-white television days, it still feels like two completely different teams lining up this time.
United's squad turnover has been drastic. Fourteen new players have come in, but most have looked very good, albeit in the small sample size we have seen of them.
Dundee haven't stood still either. From the outside it looks like they've plugged the holes in their defence, but possibly at the cost of the attacking swagger that made them relatively entertaining last season.
United, on the other hand, have built a team that, on paper, looks like it could thrill once everyone's fit. But while we've added some flair, we seem to have also developed a defensive frailty that wasn't really in the script.
Basically, we've gone from Fort Knox to a garden shed with a dodgy padlock in about three months.
Which makes this derby utterly impossible to call. It could go any way - a scrappy 0–0, a six-goal thriller, or a bizarre 3-2 where the winner goes in off someone's backside in the 94th minute.
And let's not kid ourselves on, this is worth more than three points. This is about bragging rights, dignity, reputation and, in my case, whether or not my desk on Monday morning looks like a shrine to Simon Murray.
After the last two defeats, I shuffled into the office to find my workstation plastered with his face. It was on my keyboard, taped to my monitor, even laminated on to my chair.
I couldn't even look at the guy without hearing my colleagues' muffled giggles from behind their screens.
So, please, footballing gods, let this be the week when I get to channel my inner Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. Let me be the one choosing the wallpaper, carefully selecting pictures of United's goalscorers, artistically arranging them across the office like I'm on Changing Rooms: Banter Edition.
It's my turn to redecorate. It's my turn to gloat. It's my turn to casually hum Beautiful Sunday as I refill the communal kettle.
Just one win, lads, that's all I ask. Just one.
Paul McNicoll can be found at the Dode Fox Podcast, external
























