A Handy Guide to Beating Fulham
Aaand back in the room. A trip to Craven Cottage is the order of the weekend. The loaf and curds of League action before we lift anchor and set sail for the continent. As the prospect of Inter and more Euro hullaballoo bubbles excitedly on the backburner, Mark Hughes and Fulham are off the front hob and onto our plate. The first course of a tricky doulbe-header.
‘Arry’s insisted there’ll be no rough-housing of Danny Murphy after his midweek comments. That’s good then. God forbid anyone to make some half-intelligent observations on the often not-so-beautiful game, without having dullards like Sam Allardyce come out waving his club in protest. I’m assuming he didn’t actually read the content of what was said, rather jumped to the same tired old conclusions. Flack-track bullies? Us? I haven’t the foggiest idea… The lady doth protest too much, springs to mind.
Regardless, Tottenham head west with some familiar conundrums to chew over. Already travelling light defensively, there’re doubts to whether King’s leg hinges will be risked for domestic duties or spared for the night shift in Milan. I’m of the opinion that it’s a risk worth taking. He can always be hauled off once we’re four goals to the good with time on the clock. You heard me.
In other news, Bentley is edging closer to a return. So I’m told. Slim to no chance of making this one, but his imminent regeneration might help polish some form out of wee Aaron Lennon; whose juice has been dwindling in front of our eyes for some time now. I’ve no doubt he’ll be back to his effervescent best soon enough, but a touch of healthy competition or even, dare I say, benching of the England wide boy/man, might do more good than not. We shall see.
And the opposition. Mark Hughes has been working somewhat under the radar after being given the bum’s rush at Eastlands. I’m sure he’s glad to have the spot-light pointing elsewhere. He no longer has the look of a man whose day job is carried out with the sword of Damocles looming above his head; composed on the outside, a highly-strung bundle of nerves and paranoia within. You could tell he was waiting for the bloody thread to snap sometime around the second week of August last year. Or as we call it: the opening day of the Season. With all the glamour of a bag of spanners, he was never the Sheik’s man. Not nearly Mourinho-ey enough by half. But he appears to have taken to his new mantle rather well. The absence of Zamora is costing them dear at the business end, but they’re still tight as a screw at t’other. They’ve been drawing their way to a respectable 10th. Not bad for a team widely expected to go into freefall after Woy’s departure. With this in mind, then, and our penchant for nil-nillers at The Cottage, you can probably imagine where the sensible money is going come 3 o’ clock this afternoon. That’s right: two-one to us with Bale and Van der Vaart among ‘em.
COYS!
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