Keep it under your hats but Spurs can go third tonight. Yes. Exactly. Ruddy heck. In a season where the City of Manchester is shaking off the ghastly idea of having to actually compete with the rest of the league and instead branching off and starting their own SUPER AWESOME MEGA league where non-local types aren’t even allowed past reception, there’s a feeling that anything’s possible in the race for, well, everything else. The mighty Tottenham sit fifth as we speak but fourth and third are by no means out of reach. Needless to say, it’s all gone a bit mental.
It’s Aston Villa who’re looking to put the brakes on our grand ascent this evening. A team who’ve overcome the handicap of a having cheerless ranga in the hot-seat by possessing a strike-force that’s turning out to be rather tasty. Gabby Abonglohor is playing some of the most intelligent football of his career and Sharron Bent could score goals on Mars. You get the impression that if they had better service from the chaps behind them- a midfield that’s all-too-reliant on the form and fitness of Sylvian Petrov- Villa would be pushing that quintet of teams on twenty-odd points teams a bit harder. Charles N’Zogbia has been utterly woeful. To think we were interested in him a few years back. From big fish in a little pond to a half-frozen crab stick lying on the bottom of a swimming pool. Or something.
For Tottenham good news arrived via the medium of Twitter today (where else?) as Rafael Van der Vaart declared himself hamstring-trouble free and ready for action. This, the man who singlehandedly beat the Midlanders last season; in both home and away outings his goals were ultimately decisive. And when I say decisive I mean he got all of them. Right, here we go, then. Anyone care to offer a prediction? I’ll stump for a 4-2er to keep it lively. COYS!
Follow me on Twitter. Go on. I’ll be your friend.
Just a quick one before we get all Monday Night Football up in yo’ grills. London nightclub frequenter and occasional footballer for Tottenham Hotspur, Giovani Dos Santos, has got himself on the shortlist for the Puskas Award. Or in plain-speak: FIFA’s Most Bestest Most Super Cool Goals of the Year award. The effort in question was the one that made Tim Howard look like a right berk in the final of the Gold Cup. While every man, woman and child from Mexico City to Acapulco were screaming ‘shoot, you wally!’ the young man from Monterrey took his time, jinked past the cavalcade of American limbs and footwear and serenely floated the ball over the marooned keeper. Nice darts.
Right, so let me get this straight. England are going to win the Euros now after all? Oh well that’s a relief. It was touch and go there for a moment but thanks to those courageous kids, some hardened old sea dogs and a bit of can-do attitude it looks like we’re going to bloody well do it. And if FIFA don’t like it, well, they can gay off, can’t they? Those lefty, weekend in the Alps, poppy-hating dunderheads. Yeah. Up yours, FIFA! And up yours, Spain. Yeaaah!
Funny ha has aside, the big shakers in Zurich, for once, were on the money with the whole Poppygate saga. Of course they were. All you’d need to do to come to that conclusion is find out what Alan Shearer thought and base your opinion on the exact opposite. I dinny know wha’ they’re pleeing at, said Wor Alan, in a somewhat befuddled state of alarm. It dunny make sense to me, like. A wordsearch in the Beano would have you stumped, sunbeam.
On a brighter note, Scott Parker had another all-action day at the races this weekend. By thunder. Quite what Andrés Iniesta, Xavi and David Villa made of it all, I couldn’t begin to guess. If anyone knows the Spanish for why doesn’t he leave me alone? or I can’t feel my legs! we might go some way to finding out. As a recycler of possession he’s first-rate; as a ball-winning, combative midfielder, on current form, he’s peerless.
Is that fair or has the international break finally wronged up my brain tank?
Maybe don’t answer that.
Well, after the hysteria of yesterday’s shirt giveaway (more on that later) things have taken a rather sober turn this afternoon. Like one of those magic-eye pictures that were all the rage in the nineties, the details are burning into focus and it looks awfully like another international break boogeyman. Oh the humanity. Just pop my head under the water until the bubbles stop, if you’d be so kind. Or at least long enough to induce a two-week coma.
But hello, hold the phone. What have we here? Maybe all’s not lost. The Metro have come up with an absolute corker. This is what they blurted out on Monday morning:
‘Alessandro Del Piero eyes summer transfer to Spurs or West Ham’
Hmm. Not sure about the West Ham bit. But we’ll read on regardless:
‘Speculation is rife in Italy about what the forward will do next, after he made it clear he has no intention of retiring just yet.
The former Italy captain has now set his sights on a move to the Premier League because he is a fan of English football, reports Tuttosport.’
A few details that’re quite important. Del Piero has just turned 37 (yesterday, in fact) and will be awfully close to 38 by the time next season trundles along. A wonderful player in his prime- one of my favourite ever, as it goes- but it’s perhaps thinking a little too far outside the box in terms of what we might be able to offer us. At that age, this wouldn’t be so much his career’s swansong, as it would his forth and fifth encore which prompts everyone in the auditorium to shuffle in their seats impatiently and eye up the exits.
I suppose if it where to happen, it could be labelled under one of those ‘he’ll teach the young ‘ens a thing or two’ cockamamie schemes ‘Arry had in mind for Sir David of Beckham. Either way, it smells a bit whiffy to me. But what say you?
**A massive thank you for all the interest shown in the Tottenham shirt giveaway- you literally replied in your hundreds. As always, though, there can only be one winner. And that winner, drawn at random, is a Mr. Matthew Etheridge. Well done to him.**
Oh and one more thing. Follow me on Twitter. We’ll have a ball.
I could write any old nonsense in this first bit, given the sheer sauciness of the post’s meat. What do you mean it’s all nonsense anyway? Well. I am shocked. Shocked and appalled. Okay, you’ve got a point. But if you can ignore that for a second and the rather delicious prize we’ve got on offer, we’ll first try and wade through some of the Hotspur related news that might’ve unearthed itself over the last day or so. Before, as they say, we get to the main event. Why, it’s… it’s our duty, no? Here goes:
Fulham. We beat them. It was a bit jittery towards the end. But we definitely beat them.
Pavlyuchenko still wants to leave. Steven Pienaar does not.
Jermaine Jenas left a message on the answer machine asking if anyone had seen his winter pyjama set. He’s looked everywhere.
Right, moving on. Who wants to win an official 2011/12 Tottenham Hotspur replica shirt? The ruddy nice folk at SoccerPro have one to give away and I told them you might be keen. Home or away, any size, job’s very much a good ‘en.
Just send the correct answer to following question to email@example.com or, alternatively, tweet the correct answer to @WFRFtheTruth:
Q: Do you want a free Spurs shirt? It’s free.
Very best of luck!