Tottenham Hotspur v. Wycombe Wanderers

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I think we'll win 3-0.

Wycombe will go 2-0 up at half time causing Daniel levy to panic buy Wycombe's entire team for £30 million, forcing them to forfeit the match and hence us winning 3-0
 
Hope Poch does not play too many light weight players, Wycombe will be playing seasoned pro's any light weights will be targeted, Son & Josh are both light weight's,
They will play the Beast at some point, and we will need players to battle with him without losing their heads
 
Yes, and for once I've not got butterflies in my tummy, loss of appetite, dry throat, short of breath.

For once I can dispense with all those match day rituals and superstitious routines. Making the breakfast porridge with black salt; tea only with almond milk; selecting only the right clothes, that panic about the lucky underpants, you know, the ones I bit a hole into the arse with that weekend we beat Man yoo away, AND we came from nowhere to win the Ryder Cup in the USA, so that I could make sure they never get thrown away, but then most of them are completely ragged by now anyway, it's really hard to tell now. PANIC!! It never looks good when a grown man is frantically looking through the laundry basket, oh god we have to wait till the washing machine's finished, "but they'll be wet, you can't wear those!", "yes I fucking can, they're my lucky pants and they'll dry in the car, sort of, I can put them on the dashboard full heat", "what and drive up there half naked, what if the police see you?", "look, there are some things in life that are more important than FUCKING FASHION!!!!"

Ah, the bliss of playing an underdog at home in the cup.
 
White Van Jan said:
Yes, and for once I've not got butterflies in my tummy, loss of appetite, dry throat, short of breath.

For once I can dispense with all those match day rituals and superstitious routines. Making the breakfast porridge with black salt; tea only with almond milk; selecting only the right clothes, that panic about the lucky underpants, you know, the ones I bit a hole into the arse with that weekend we beat Man yoo away, AND we came from nowhere to win the Ryder Cup in the USA, so that I could make sure they never get thrown away, but then most of them are completely ragged by now anyway, it's really hard to tell now. PANIC!! It never looks good when a grown man is frantically looking through the laundry basket, oh god we have to wait till the washing machine's finished, "but they'll be wet, you can't wear those!", "yes I fucking can, they're my lucky pants and they'll dry in the car, sort of, I can put them on the dashboard full heat", "what and drive up there half naked, what if the police see you?", "look, there are some things in life that are more important than FUCKING FASHION!!!!"

Ah, the bliss of playing an underdog at home in the cup.
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Are you ok mate?
 
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