It’s Spurs on Friday night, even though it shouldn’t be.
We shouldn’t be at home to Spurs on Friday. We should be getting ready for the cup final, or at least playing on Sunday. But there’s one rule for six clubs and another for everyone else, so our last home game of the season will be on Friday night. We’re playing a team who are seventeenth in the table, safe from relegation although they can still reach the dizzy height of thirteenth.
Normally that would mean nobody would take much notice of them and concentrate instead on our late charge for the Champions League but they’re the north London soap opera Tottenham Hotspur, so the story will be about them. When will they sack their manager, and will he be replaced by his assistant Mile Jedinak, when will Daniel Levy being driven out by pitchfork-wielding locals, which of their players will be rested?
Then there’s the biggest question of the lot – how can a team who are seventeenth and who have only rarely this season reached the dizzy heights of mediocrity, have more chance of getting into the Champions League than a team who are currently sixth?
Their players are bunch of nonentities, mercenaries, has-beens and never-wasses. They’re where they are for a reason, and the reason is that they’re shite. On the other hand, our assembled battalion of worldbeaters are still in form at the right time, injuries excepting,
The situation is still out of our hands so all we can do is win both games we’ve got left and for a start hammer Spurs to put the wind up everyone else we’re competing with. The one advantage about pissing us around with the day of the match is that it’s ended up with us playing at Villa Park under the lights. And you know what that means. Another win and onto the final countdown.
