After the win against Bolton in the Fabrice Muamba tribute replay I spent the rest of the week looking forward to Swansea. That said I knew I had to get past the moving house on the Saturday before the game. I figured that there is a pub near the new gaff so I’d be all right.
Plans are great but having a baby with gymnastics coach means that from time to time you get roped in to ‘helping out’. Cue Friday night’s conversation. Long story short guess who’s getting up at twenty past five in the morning of the Swansea game to drive two hours to a competition?
There were assurances that we would be back by 3pm.
At the competition I sit around and feign interest as any bloke would, and spend my time looking after my three-month-old daughter, which is great. At 11am I take her for a walk, and manage to find a Sunday league game outside. Better than watching 12 year olds do roly-polys. Its proper crap, in the 20 minutes I watch I put in a man of the match performance by twice passing the ball straight to a player when it’s gone out of play, something neither midfields could muster.
Come 2pm, I am well aware of the wool that has been pulled over my eyes and im going to have to rely on my twitter feed and a live score app for updates on the game. My mate DJ sends me a picture of the Tottenham shirt he bought, which makes me so proud and happy. DJ is Australian and lives by the Holloway road, plum in Scumville and he has chosen Tottenham. I get him to give me goal alerts as I only as my circle internet keeps letting me down. F****** circle internet. It did hold out so I could at least check twitter for a few minutes, which is awash with pre-match hype.
Team looks good and Aaron’s on the bench, the hope of width returns. Whilst changing a nappy in the Sunday league team’s changing room, I get a text reading “Go on!!!!!!” it takes another 3 messages to find out the Rafa scored from a Bale cross.
Internet is down again and twitter isn’t working. Back at the gymnasium I find out from the announcer that it’s 1-1. I nearly swear in front of 20 kids, fortunately I hold my tongue and get away with it. Twitter starts to work again and I’m pawing at my screen every five seconds. Goals two and three go in and I am happy; level with Arsenal only a goal behind. I have to spend another hour and a half there before we drive home. MOTD 2 is now my only hope and the clock is ticking.
[typography font=”PT Sans” size=”20″ size_format=”px” color=”#222222[/linequote]My mate DJ sends me a picture of the Tottenham shirt he bought, which makes me so proud and happy. DJ is Australian and lives by the Holloway road, plum in Scumville and he has chosen Tottenham.[/typography]
Get home with half hour to spare. Although I’m shattered I HAVE to see the goals. Liverpool vs. Newcastle is first up, and who doesn’t like laughing at Liverpool? I’m in hysterics when Andy Carroll goes down like Devon Loch in the 1956 Grand National (YouTube it). It gets better when my sleep deprived girlfriend calls Pepe Reina a dickhead for the head butt. She also asks ‘does anyone actually likes Kenny Dalglish?’ after his interview, she followed up with ‘the man is a moron for defending such crap and cheating players.’
Finally it’s Tottenham and quiet reigns. Bale actually sticks to the left and Rafa’s finish is delightful and he seems back to the player we fell in love with. Adebayor looked industrious and scoring again with his head like he used to against us. And Lennon seems to light the place up again like he did a few years ago. From what I can tell we played well and we deserved our win, but that’s what BBC wants me to think too. I stay awake a while longer to hear Colin Murray say ‘Wulves’ and joyously watch Woolwich lose. I can’t comment on the Spurs performance. Sounds positive though. I will be able to watch the next game though and the rewards I’m getting for giving up my Sunday are out of this world!
The Slump in form was hard. Our only really bad displays were against Woolwich and Everton, and we were unlucky against the Manchester sides: the City game knocked us as we could/ should have won.
The Harry to England monkey was jumping around and most of the media are still harping on about it but at the club it seems to have died down and focus is firmly on 3rd and the cup. I was worried about what tragically happened to Muamba was going to hang over the players and bring the season crumbling down. But it seems to have bought us together, and that joy and sparkle we saw when we went 11 games unbeaten is back. That passion, the teamwork, the smiles on the player’s faces and the glory glory football is all back. It’s easy to have that when you’re winning and long may it continue.