Smash Bolton and New Kits

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Good afternoon, morning or, indeed, evening- depending on which part of this old globe you join us from. A mighty big week ahead. Tottenham on the verge of acquiring their most bounteous points haul since the Premiership’s inception- 2005/6’s effort of sixty-five is creeping into the radar- and what’s more, at the start of a three game sequence, which, should they hit jackpot on each occasion, will ensure Champions League football for next season. One week, three games, nine points to play for. And my nerves are shot to absolute faeces.

Bolton are up first, then. The last home game of the campaign. Not wishing to endorse the philosophy of the kamikaze pilot- but the mission here is to sign off with an ear-pummelling bang. Not an explosion of limbs and general surrounding matter, you understand, more of goals, noise and perhaps the odd flurry of ticker-tape should the score remain favourable. The Lane residents have had a lot to shout about this year- for the most part- baring witness to some of the most thrilling, sexy, pingiest attacking football seen for an age. ‘Arry promised cavalier stuff at the season’s start and that’s precisely what we’ve been given. Bolton, for all their meat and gravy style approach, should be handled no differently. Attack, no mercy, attack.

To aid our cause tomorrow there’s whisper of a long overdue start for Aaron Lennon. No. Seriously. I saw it on the telly and everything. I think it’s a testament to ‘Arry and the squad how they’ve handled this ultimately frustrating episode. The number of occasions talk of his return has surfaced, only to be squished down again like a troublesome mole, is not worth remembering. Is he fit? I heard he’s fit. Patience, on their part, and the capacity of those filling in have seen us through a potentially season wrecking saga.

But my won’t it be good to have him back.

Right. I must cut it short there. I’ve a train to catch. All above board, I assure you.

I’ll leave you with some predictions (3-0 me thinks, with Lennon to get at least one of ‘em) and a quick snap of our lot in what looks a heck of a lot like next year’s kit. Or uniform, as my humble web-brain often refers to them as. God bless him.

The finish is in sight.

COYS!

Really, come on.


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