That's it then. No point any more, in Saturdays, in football, in life, the season is over, nothing now to look forward to. How could they throw away a three-goal lead? And they were good goals, not jammy or own goals, from Ledley King, Robbie Keane and Ziege. Should have given them confidence, ready to come out even stronger in the second half. Perhaps they'd get another three. I was thinking 6-0, 7-0 , with Man City down to ten men plus missing Anelka, their most dangerous player.
It's being said they are missing a Dave MacKay figure. They didn't even have a John Pratt figure, someone with guts. Carr is a washout as a captain, who cares if he goes; Dean Richards, what a lump, what a waste of money; as for those geriatrics Poyet and Anderton, bring on the Zimmer frames, let them hobble off, pronto. David Pleat, you are so ugly, and hopeless, wasting our money, my money, but then for 30 years we've had a succession of hopeless managers and spineless teams. Lily Livers rather than Lily Whites.
Against Man U last season, giving away a three-goal lead, that was bad enough, but City are rubbish, even worse than us, with failures like Fowler who were never any good, even in their so-called prime, foreigners who have no idea where they are and care less, plus clueless kids with shaved heads. Just a rabble, really, with no heart, no history of coming back, yet we let them storm back and score four goals to win. In 40 years, I can't remember a worse display. Spurs, you are shite. OK, we won't go down, although I wouldn't bet on it, but we won't get any higher. And we're out of both cups. So it's all pointless from now on. And probably will be. Sans points. For ever.
God, I'm so depressed. Why should I have to put up with this? I don't have to. All pleasure has gone. So I've decided. I'm not going again. You can stuff my season ticket up your arse, Daniel Levy. Not this season, not next. I can't take it. Not any more.
Wow. Life is so good, football such fun. Spurs have scored 11 goals in their last three games, more than anyone, are you listening, Arse-en-al? Those games have produced 20 goals. Amazing. Who says watching Spurs is not entertaining, that you don't get your money's worth? I hate those moaning minnies, threatening not to go again.
Beating Charlton 4-2 away, who are a damned good team, oh yes, plus stuffing Portsmouth and poor old Teddy, ah ha ha, 4-3. That was excellent. Now what was the score in the match before that? Oh yeah, we got three brilliant goals, who could forget them, against now, who was it, City, I think. Anyway, they were real beauties. What a team.
Young Ledley King, future England captain, no question, Dean Richards, a colossus, and Robbie Keane, a legend already, and, of course, with Kanoute and Jermain Defoe we now have three of the best strikers in the Premiership, in Europe, on the planet. And what about Poyet's goal, brilliant, I really think he'll last for ever. And Darren. Class doesn't get old, does it? And please God, Stephen Carr, don't go, we love you, we do.
Now I look at the table, counting on both hands, we have so much still to play for. The way things are working out, with the big gap behind the top three, keep this up, lads, and we could easily make the fourth spot. We could be in Europe. Who knows? The glory days are coming back.
Bloody lucky to be out of the cups. No, think about it. We can concentrate on what really matters. Zooming up the league. This could be our best season for yonks. Can't wait for next. That David Pleat, so dignified, so wise. He knows what he's doing, made some astute buys. And he's quite handsome, in the right light, with the pockmarks in the shade. Beauty spots, that's what they are. We're lucky to have him. Who needs some Eytie manager we can't pronounce?
Gosh, it's so exciting. I feel blessed to have a season ticket. Thank you, Daniel. Come on you Lily Whites.
Football, eh, bloody hell.