Score prediction

I'm often less than optimistic when it comes to predicting Spurs results. When we are playing someone like Doncaster in the Carling Cup I imagine complacency, fluky goals and humiliation. It may have happened on relatively few occasions but those moments are seared on each Spurs fan's memory and tend (in the mind of the pessimist) to overshadow the times of triumph. I do sometimes (usually foolishly) lurch from pessimism to optimism but tonight, at the thought of Spurs' challenge in the San Siro, I am laughing much like a man condemned to death. I feel a 3-0 or worse coming on. I know Rafa has replaced Jose but can't get past our defensive frailties.

we woz there!

• Equals most goals scored in prem league
• most goals scored by a team in one half
• Defoe equals most goals scored by one player in prem
• Spurs biggest victory in top flight
• Most goals scored since 1977 (9-0 v Bristol Rovers- I was there too)

To say the half dozen Wigan fans that were there looked dejected after the game is something of an understatement. I felt sorry for them as their mini bus collected them, ready for the long drive back to Lancashire. We waved to them but for some reason they didn't wave back. To their credit some actually applauded. I was grateful as my involvement in the victory was at least as signigficant as Defoe's, but who gets all the glory?

I hear that Scharner (who scored after controlling the ball with his hand, having taken lessons from Theirry Henry in midweek) has magnanomously come out and said he's happy for the game to be replayed.

Spurs V Doncaster

Spurs prove this whole 'strength in depth' thing everyone is talking about.

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head in the clouds

The jury is still out on Crouch but it looks like it'll come back with something a lot less than a unanimous decision even as we plough through another season. At least the Wembley Cup experience means that even the most optimistic Spurs fan will not be blithering on about a top 4 spot this season. The purchase of Peter the Great (big lumbering gangly lummox- just to make it clear where I stand on the debate) just adds to that sense of anti-climax. £10m sounds a lot but, unlike most footballers, Crouch has a special contract which stipulates he must be paid for by the inch. Too often we have been disappointed after big name signings up front: Rebrov, Pav et al. Now we just have the big. Don't get me wrong: I'm as thrilled as the next bloke that we'll be watching football at the highest level this season (pun intended) and entertained up to 8 times with robot dancing and hilarious mimes. People are talking about re-igniting the partnership with Defoe but how much of a partnership was that really? They got something like 15 goals between them at Pompey. Not exactly world beating is it. Is he better than what we have already? Hardly. Does he give us an alternative? Probably. Maybe 'arry is considering playing 3 up front and putting Keano in the hole ( a tiny one with a pot of gold coins in it). That's about as far as it goes for me. I so hope I'm wrong. If I am and he's a new legend and scores 20+ goals I hereby declare that I will put his name on my shirt next season (even though I'm only 3' 2" tall. )
Here he is when he was last at Spurs. No doubt he'll be the next WHL pin up. At least he has a sense of humour; when asked what he'd be if he wasn't a footballer he said: " a virgin".

White Hart Lane

This week I have been to Wales, London and places near to me in the grim north.

Here are a few photos from our visit to the Lane on Friday. I know the adulation only perpetuates the prima donna arrogance of the players but I can't help myself. I loved the tour. The snippets of info from the guides and the ability to sit in Harry's chair, on Ledley's bench seat in the changing room and at the mike in the press conference room made it 11 quid well worth spending. Typically, my girl tried to get more than she paid for and was told off twice. Once for going on to the pitch (mercifully NOT in the style of Erica Roe) and secondly for sneaking into the toilets in the changing rooms. Her verdict on that was 'urrggghhh, it smells really bad.' This may be because the only toiletry products in sight were on the wall, squirty Head and Shoulders containers. If we do ever make the stupidly named Champions' league maybe they'll up the quality and take a leaf out of Chelski's book and install lockers in the changing rooms. Apparently in these they have a system where aftershave is sprayed in a mist on the players as they open their locker doors.

Interesting facts:

• Spurs have the only 11 man plunge bath left in the League
• We had Champions' league standard lights fitted last summer at a cost of 12 million quid
• The original brass cockerel has dents in it where Gazza shot at it the week before scoring against Les Arses without a boot on
• The away dressing room has a low ceiling, poor lighting, no board, not tables and rubbish showers. All of this is deliberately unsporting
• Arse Wenger once complained that his match side seat wasn't heated

Luca Modric

On this evidence, looks like he's pretty good. Will be interesting seeing him bossing the midfield next season, especially if Spurs can get hold of Diarra to go with him. The posing stuff at the start of this compilation suggests he might be 'one for the ladies'.

(apologies to Suzanne Vega- no relation to Ramon I think)

His name is Luca /He probably doesn't live on the second floor/he probably lives in a better house than you/Yes, I think you've seen him before/If you hear something Saturday afternoon/ Some kind of trouble/Some kind of fight/Just don't ask me what it was- cos it was Luca putting another one past the scum!

My guess is that my reworking will not catch on as a chant next season.

New Kit

Of course it's a rip off and all that but the new kit's bit of trim adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the home shirt and the stripey socks add a touch of the Bertie Bassett. Apart from that, all I can say is Bleuuuurrrghhh. The light blue looks like a pair of old lady pyjamas and the stupid brown is back. We won't win anything wearing chocolate, AKA shite, brown. They've condemned us to another shocking season away from home.

I did a quick search for photos of it and the first picture below with Woody, Keano and Jenas isn't too bad. Except that Jenas is in it at all. (Berba conspicuous by his absence I think). The second photo scared the crap out of me. I mean, I know Robbie Keane came to us from Leprechaun United but the guy with the giant head looks ill. He is supposedly a hot prospect- Tomas Peckhart. I don't mean to be unkind but he looks like his neck'll snap if he runs too fast.

The only good thing about all this is that for once I am not feeling at all confident about next season. Much less chance of the same bitter disappointments that way.

Berba's last game?

I saw Martin Jol's last game this season (seems like years ago now) and the thought of the whole stadium singing : 'stand up for Martin Jol' still brings a tear to my eye. I wonder what it'll be like on Sunday. All the huffing and puffing, sulking and conniving has left a lot of Spurs fans irritated with Berba. Even so, there's no denying he has a masterful touch. One of the only chants my girl joins in is 'DI-MI-TAR BERBATOV' though it's more like dimitar berbatov as she's a bit shy. I suspect that it's as much his Draculian good looks as much as his dexterous feet mind you. So...probably for the last time...here's a picture of Berba at his best (I am guessing). Sullen, broody and advertising a children's charity. What more could a girl want? A bit of bloody loyalty, that's what.

We got Ledley at the back

When he's not injured. If he'd been there all season we wouldn't have shipped all those 33 points (mentioned below). Felt like the page needed brightening up.


This one includes a clip of the fastest ever premiership goal as well as some cheesy music.

6-4 goals

Only because we are likely to see a miserable game up at Wigan tomorrow.

Glory Glory

Spurs male voice chior at their most tuneful.

Losing well

Losing is always hard to take when you're passionate about a sport or team. However, I experienced something approaching a new phenomenon on Sunday watching Spurs lose to Man Yoo: Yeah I was disappointed but we played well and tried a bit! That's the key really. Too often the team has just flapped and floundered and not really tried very hard. Too soon in the past they capitulated and threw their arms up at each other with every misplaced pass. This could easily have gone the other way. The draw for the next round would have put us up against Le Arse again- that would have been so sweet.

Spurs have bought Woodgate from Boro this week and it looks like we're getting Hutton from from Rangers. 'Woody' has a dubious past but as my girl says, 'Everyone deserves a second chance.' It's not so much his playing as his off the pitch activities that disconcert me. I recall that he was involved in some fracas that may or may not have been racially motivated. I'll be keeping a close eye on him. Hutton is a good bet at right back by all accounts. If we can play them both tomorrow and they do what they're supposed to do it could be that we'll have something resembling a proper defence which is more than can be said for the team on Sun (especially after Dawson got sent off). Dare I say it but Woo Hoo. A little revenge for our early season defeat at the hands of the toffeemen would also be sweet. In a chewy, stick to the roof of your mouth kind of way.

I was there

Still I haven't tidied up. Instead I have been looking to see what happened to Anderlecht after the lighter and metal rod throwing incidents in the UEFA cup last week (they were fined £12,000 which'll be a real deterrent). This led me to start looking nostalgically at stuff about the 1984 run. I still have my ticket from the away leg of the final and a scarf I got from an Anderlecht fan is hanging up in this room.

1984 UEFA Cup final
From a BBC report:

After beating Yugoslavian side Hajduk Split to reach the Final, Spurs travelled to Belgium to face the legendary Anderlecht, who were also the reigning holders.
The first leg was a strange affair, with the visitors standing firm against a side unbeaten at home in European competitions for ten years, much to the surprise of many who thought Tottenham's defensive frailties would surface from the beginning.
On the hour, the English side took the lead, Paul Miller rising above the defence to thunder a header home from Micky Hazard's corner.
Tony Parks was the hero of Tottenham's 1984 UEFA Cup success. A Morton Olsen goal five minutes from time gave Anderlecht parity, although Spurs had grabbed the crucial away goal.
A booking for Steve Perryman meant that the Spurs skipper missed the second leg, and manager Keith Burkinshaw was without the services of Glenn Hoddle and Ray Clemence while Argentine Ossie Ardilles was on the bench.
Clemence's replacement between the posts was an unknown by the name of Tony Parks. Neither he nor the Spurs faithful could imagine the fate that awaited him.
The Belgians took the lead after sixty minutes through Alex Czerniatinski. For the next fifteen minutes it looked as if Spurs were to lose, but things changed when Ardilles replaced Miller.
He instigated the move which led to Hazard crossing the ball to the centre and Graham Roberts emerging from nowhere to score the equaliser.
A goaless extra-time followed, and so it went to penalties. Parks saved from Olsen to give Spurs a lead in the shootout and after six straight successes, it was left to Danny Thomas to win Spurs the Cup, but he saw his kick saved.
The last of the ten penalties was taken by the Icelandic international, Gudjohnsen and Parks flung himself to the right to push the ball away and etch his name permanently in Spurs' history.

...happy when skies are grey

Yesterday it was sunny. Really sunny. I squinted so much on the way there and the way back I still look like I'm faking gratitude on receipt of a present from an elderly relative. It was disturbing therefore that Middlesbrough was covered in cloud which I guess is the consequence of the industry that pretty much defines the place. I parked in a back street and walked towards the ground which is made all the more incongruous by the wasteland that surrounds it. The ground itself is OK on the inside even if it's a bit drafty. We deserved our victory and the Spurs fans were relentless in their mockery of the Boro support but I kinda felt bad being part of that. It's no bloody wonder they're quiet: It's a really depressing place.

Buying tickets online for category A games is always something of a lottery. I needed three tickets and the only ones I could get were East stand and one of them was restricted view. This means that one of only two pillars in the ground partially obscures the goal. Of course there's no price reduction for this but there you go. After a bit of seat juggling with the guys around me I managed to shift my son back a row and it was his teenage sense of the purile/ inane/ scatalogical that first spotted the benefit of our seats in terms of the score readout on the 'Jumbotron'. This kept us amused for most of half time. Well, it kept him amused, I'm much more sophisticated.

Jenas you p***s

There's nothing like shouting your mouth off and being made to look like a git in front of your son and your mate. My git status was further elevated by the fact that several tens of people around us in the East Stand at WHL on Saturday could somehow also hear me. 'Shy' and 'retiring' are two adjectives ascribed to me (by drunk people who have never met me) and 'enthusiastic' and 'passionate' by those that have been to football with me and enjoy euphemisms. Don't get me wrong; I'm no boo boy (or even a boo old man) but at 2-1 down to A*****l and well into the second half Zakora and Jermaine Jenas were simply not doing what they needed to be doing: providing service to Berbatov. Any more games like that this season and he'll be even more tempted by whatever Man Yoo or Chelski can offer. Finally, Martin Jol heard me from the other side of the pitch and replaced Zakora with Defoe but still I wasn't happy and, as frustration got the better of me (not, I might add, to the point of convincing me to leave early like some of the fair weather mob around me) I made no secret of my desire (metaphorically) to see JJ take an early bath. So, when he belted home the equalizer with 30 seconds left of injury time I was ecstatic of course but very conscious of the harumphing around me. I had no idea Spurs fans could hurumph so audibly. "Two- one, and you f***d it up" the die hards explained diplomatically to the remaining "scummers" (of course I mean that affectionately and without vitriol) and those around me looked at me and telepathically chanted " You're a git, you're a git, you're a git".

Still, it wasn't as bad as earlier in the season when I went to see the Mighty Os in action against Gillingham. 3-0 down with ten minutes to go, I was as loud as the next man demanding the substitution of the woefully inept left back. Of course he went on to score a hattrick.

For this Saturday I have a strategy. I will demand loudly and enthusiastically the substitution of Dimitar and Keano from the first whistle. On my past form we'll be 6 up with a hattrick from each by half time.