So there we have it. After months of disinformation, deviancy and nobody really knowing who anybody else is, the "big one" turned out to be a bit of a "small one".

As Bradford prepared for the worst, and much of the city didn't grind to a halt, thousands of supporters of the morally wayward Extremist Defence Lodge didn't show up for their big moment in the drizzle. Of course I wasn't there, so don't take this as a personal account of what happened, but in the finest tradition of good old corporate journalism I can do the next best thing. I'm going to make it up as I go along.

It was a drizzly day and the sky was soaked with the kind of tension that only a low pressure north westerly front could bring. In Bradford, nothing much was happening. True, there was a pigeon but that flew off. As it leapt dramatically into the sky, a police radio buzzed into action nearby. A traffic light in the city centre was on the blink again.

Driving past that traffic light, a coach rumbled past, its driver, a small bloke with some sandwiches in a tupperware box tucked into his "day bag" shifted gear and looked out for a place to park his coach. Little did he know that he was carrying a cargo of DEATH. He shifted gear again but missed and crunched the gear box.

Across town, a police officer stood next to another police officer and chatted about their overtime bonuses. Little did they know, that in a few short minutes their lives would be forever changed by dozens of working class "War on Terror vanguardists" who would allow themselves to be herded into a police pen and safely controlled in a good example of modern inner city community policing.

The tension was almost detectable.

Standing near to the police, some photographers wearing combat fatigues, Nato helmets and carrying emergency medical supplies, including morphine, ketamin, bandages, syringes, burns and trauma medi-packs and emergency passports eyed each other suspiciously, nervously fingering the shutter buttons of their idiotically complicated camera's and wondering whether they would ever see their loved ones again.

And then it happened.

Nobody I spoke to could say how it started. But as I wasn't there this seems trivial.

All anybody knows is that it was awful, an awful embarrassment.

They came from all directions all at the same time. Some from the bus station, some from the car park, some from a nearby pub, one was even spotted arriving on a squeaky bicycle. In a whirling fury they ambled along the pavement and checked with pedestrians they were in the right place. In a lamentable and pathetic example of all that is wrong with humanity one even arrived by car, his mother dropping him off on her way to work at the "fish n chip" shop in the high street. The horrifying moment of judgement day had arrived.

The EDL had actually not got lost and had found their way to Bradford.

The world prepared for the worst and wondered if this was the end of humanity, and then stopped doing that and checked the TV schedules to see what time X Factor was on.

This "eyewitness who wasn't anywhere near Bradford" would like to report carnage having erupted in the city but as there wasn't any it seems pointless to carry on....let's all stand about with our hands in our pockets shuffling our feet and stare at the floor instead while we have a little embarrassed whistle!

So where now for the EDL?

Well the football season is starting so some will go there. Others, having finally met the "love of their life" will quietly slink away and hope no one's noticed. Others will realise that their bail terms have run out and will be winging their way to one of the notorious "Her Majesty's Pleasure Centre's" and the few left will be left standing around scratching their heads wondering why doing Nazi salutes isn't popular.

The last one remaining will be left to endlessly bore his relatives to death. May they rest in peace.