The Super Mega Sunday Bumper Edition (!)
Well, what a day in the old Anglais de Premiero that was. (Pretty sure that’s a flawless translation) Barely had we put on a pair of trousers that could be deemed fit for public display was Fernando Torres and his new chums doing a hilarious job of not beating Norwich at Carrow Road. Torres, of course, at the heart of the Lol-cano; spewing out Lol-ten hot lava for everyone to see. He’s all about the comedy. Then, it all got a bit weird when Robbie Keane started peeling the years back in the Midlands derby in early afternoon. Weird in the way that you might go to a nightclub with your dad. You know? You’d laugh if only it wasn’t so pathetic.
Oh, yeah. And then Liverpool lost to Bolton in the evening kick-off. Only they said it was Bolton. To me it looked suspiciously like Real Madrid. Nigel Reo-Kaka doing some lovely things in the white shirt of Los Blancos as Andy Carroll did some equally puzzling stuff in the rouge of Merseyside.
Now, of course, it’s Spurs’ chance to benefit while others have stumbled. Whatever joy there was to be extracted from the results yesterday, it’ll count for the equal sum of bugger all if nothing’s taken from Manchester in the cold light of the here and now. Thems the breaks, kiddo.
So what are we to expect? Well, one thing I will guess. If there’s any of that pretend card waving nonsense in the technical area, I’d imagine it wouldn’t be too long before a rather angry Joe Jordan made it his personal business to reduce the number of limbs Roberto Mancini was able to use for such skulduggery, down to zero. Nothing says ‘keep a lid on it, son’ like an arm dislocated at the elbow and shoved up one’s nether regions. Shocking stuff from the silver- plumed Italian in recent weeks. And doesn’t his voice sound like a zip? Yes. Yes it does.
On the pitch it’s likely to be even more exciting. There’s every indication that there won’t be a repeat of the August fiasco, and that can only be a good thing. Both teams are missing key men. Suspension and The Africa Cup of Nations claiming two of City’s finest- while so-called ‘contractual obligations’ leave our most potent striker in the stands. The colossal Ledley King is a doubt, too.
Much, then, rests on the shoulders of one Jermain Defoe and his capacity to operate as a lone-striker. The force is strong in this one but so far in his career there’s been little to suggest this is entirely his bag. A terrific finisher with oodles of raw, explosive talent but he’s more of a ‘cover me, boys- I’m going it alone’ type of player and his greatest gift is perhaps is his greatest weakness. Selfishness. Harry, though, seems to have little doubt that he’s up to the task and that’s more than enough for this humble onlooker. So there. Bring on the City, says I.