RVP: A Depressed Crab?

Oooh, Betty. This is a big one.

A Sunday lunchtime soirée across town with 4th place Arsenal- or, for those of you who get a buzz out of acronyms, the NLD. Round two.

And this time, it’s personal.

Well, you know. It’s kind of personal. Is it personal? I’ll have to check that.

Anyway, it’s fair to say our North London cohabiters haven’t been enjoying a great time of it recently- by their own standards- illustrated rather concisely by their last two outings in knock-out competition. Thunder-punted to the Champions League curb by an efficient but by-no-means-brilliant Milan team last Wednesday; before losing their get-out-of-jail-with-a-trophy card at the Stadium of Light seven days ago tomorrow. Nope, it never rains at Arsenal. Just hammers down with sh*t. Season all but terminated. Double lolerz.

So how should we approach this one, then? Beware the wounded dog, is my immediate thought. Particularly one who seems to just lollop about the place looking forlorn, waiting for the vet to come over and administer the sweet, sweet relief. Because he might just bite.

These days, Robin Van Persie might cut the shape of an utterly depressed crab, but he, much like Arsenal, are not ones to be underestimated. Gervinho, RVP, even Theo Walcott are all potential match-winners on their day.

The good news is that the chaps of Hotspur are in splendid form. If we quickly (quicker) forget the horrid display at Stevenage last weekend and remember what might be the best opening half of football I’ve seen from a Tottenham side in the last two decades- fluid, p*ss-whippet quick, clinical- there’s every hope that we can turn the sex on against a team apparently in the cack. In all honesty, we should fancy ourselves taking the lot here.

Now’s the time to be ruthless, then. We need to keep piling on the hurt for the pocket-wrung supporters of Woolwich, who’re in desperate need of an emotional breather. For them, a win against the old enemy would be just the over-priced ticket; just the vehicle to get their season up on its legs again and forget all the despair that went before. It’s Spurs’ duty to resist. Our duty to prolong the misery.

In short, we need to crush them.*

 

COYS!

 

 

I think you’re ready for my Twitter jelly.

 

*Or, you know, a draw. A draw would be okay.

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