So Deadline Day passed us by without major incident; instead of actually buying a new striker, Daniel Levy engineered the cunning plan to write a few names on a piece of paper, straighten his tie, then go for a nice dinner. If I’m honest it’s not the approach I would’ve gone for but the very fact that I’m not in charge of a football club can only be regarded as a good thing.
Will it prove to be a negligible oversight; to leave our strikeforce with so little meat on its bones? Perhaps, but as Villas-Boas made the point in the aftermath of Yellow Tickertape Thursday, there would be no use Spurs siphoning bundles of cash into Internacional’s coffers- a club by their own admission not desperate to sell- if the fallout sees us swimming in financial shark-infested-waters.
What’s more, let’s be honest, I’d wager the average kickball enthusiast hasn’t seen more than a few YouTube clips of Leandro Damião, and, up until just 2008, the lad was playing the Brazilian equivalent of Sunday League football. So, you know, he’s probably not that good anyway? Right? Huh, guys?
Moving quickly on…
As if aware that some disappointed Tottenham fans might need a quick antidote for those Deadline Day Blues, Lewis Holtby has wandered into our lives and made the bad stuff go away. Obviously we should all play it super cool as to not come across too keen BUT I AM TOTALLY GETTING THIS GUY’S NAME TATTOOED ON MY ARM and we certainly shouldn’t get carried away with one-hundred-odd minutes of delightful football. Definitely not.
Elsewhere, Bale’s getting the hang of this kicking the ball in the goal lark. Two games in a row now the Welshman has left defenders huffing on vapour trails before kerbusting it in the top/middle-ish corner. Amassing vital points in the process.
Even with Defoe sidelined, if there’s not enough goals between Bale, Holtby, Dempsey, Lennon, Dembele and Adebayor, then we really should have a good long look at ourselves in the mirror. And if you’re Lewis Holtby, well, that wouldn’t be too much of a chore, would it?