Time For A Refil
My kidneys feel like a pair of hockey pucks that due to an oversight by a kit man had to be used for every game in an international tournament. Like Emilio Estevez in Youngs Guns, I too have my scars.
With any luck, we can move on. By that I don’t just refer to the public weeping and wailing, but to the way we play football at Spurs. If there’s a lesson to be learned, it’s that we desperately need to pursue any strategy that doesn’t involve walloping it up at Peter Crouch.
The game against Le Arse will be interesting. The plan was we’d face them all buoyant and bubbly after beating Pompey. The revised plan is that we manage to get out the tie with complementary dunces hats on our collective heads.
There will be some still aching limbs in the Tottenham camp. That’s natural enough. But spare a thought for the state of the likes of Bobby Smith and Jimmy Greaves and the minutes they had to play each season. And they were the nip of scotch in yer tea and a woodbine generation.
So I’m not for wheeling out our kids at any stage during the course of our last four games. If they were good enough we’d have seen them well before things got sticky. Releasing them now is like sending on a sub in the 80th minute when your 4-0 down and expecting a guy who couldn’t make the first team to save you.
Tottenham need to regroup quickly and use the game tomorrow to vent the frustrations of Sunday. We’ll have a Prattle later tonight, eh?
BIOYC!
