A day in the life of Benny

If you haven't then you really should. That is, if you wish to see more hilarity as displayed below.

The place?

The Fighting Cock forum. Click here.

Click on the above images to go directly to the thread.

Thanks to Sibs of The Fighting Cock team.

Love the shirt.

Back in the Park Lane lower

Follow up to the 'Return from exile' article here.

Was good to be back in the Park Lane lower, in amongst familiar faces that all appear to have retained their seats in my absence. Obviously better at time-managing life than I am. Routine victory, Everton hardly put us under pressure. We were professional. Highlight moment? Celebrating Lennon's goal with the lad to my left who proceeded to bear hug me whilst I punched the air with both fists. Felt something on my elbow, to then find the bloke in front of me holding his temple and screaming. He then proceeded to kneel down and hold his head for the next fifteen minutes. His mate didn't seem that bothered telling me not to worry. I wasn't sure if I was the one responsible for the head injury. If he's clutching his temple, did he turn to face my celebrating and got an elbow in the head for his troubles? The longer he stayed down, the funnier it got. This was the supporters stand equivalent to a Gareth Bale roll-over after being fouled. He kept touching his head and looking at his hand, perhaps waiting for blood to pour out.

A couple of people asked if he was okay, others apologised because nobody truly knew who hit him. I stood there, hands in pocket, not quite sure if this bloke was waiting for more witnesses to his 'injury' to come forward so that he could perhaps sue me for serious foul play. In the end he picked himself up and I departed for a half-time meet-up with some mates.

I celebrated Benny's goal with far more restraint in terms of body-popping movements, applauding the effort with glee and smiles and gentle hugs, this time with the lads to my right. The bloke in front ducked regardless, in fear of another attack.

At full time, he turned around and faced me. For a moment I thought "Here we go...he wants my name and address for insurance purposes". Instead, I got a handshake and a goodbye. I accepted and patted him on the back. Just like on the pitch after the final whistle.

Thankfully, very little trouble at the Bell and Hare before and after the game. Meet a few people, hoping for a far quicker return (in the next month or so) with hopefully a Saturday kick-off to allow for more pre and post match banter.

Simply nothing like being at the Lane. Even for the one game.

One final note, I didn't see Chirpy. Because had I, he would have got two non-accidental elbows to the face, the git. I know where you live chicken. You stay hiding.

Pinch yourself

Spurs 2 Everton 0

This is getting ridiculous now. Another win. Another clean sheet. Third in the table, level on points with second. Might even go ‘level top’ momentarily over the weekend if we beat Wolves. It’s all very giddy and nosebleedy. Should I pinch myself? Should we pinch ourselves? Have you pinched yourself? No? Neither have I. Because I know I’m not dreaming. We deserve this. We have to keep believing there’s more. What I might have to do at some point (soon) is take a step back and try to take it all in. Really appreciate what we have and what we are aspiring to do. Because in a sort of funny kinda ironic way, most of us are remaining quite grounded over our form. No delusions. No set in stone ambitions either. Let’s face it, start of season we’d have taken fourth spot. Most pundits/media folk would have had us pinned down as outsiders, 5^th at best. After the opening two games there were plenty writing off our chances. Concerned that the loss of form from the back end of the previous season was going to continue into this one.

It didn’t. We signed the players we needed to shape ourselves up in order to compete. Since the Manc nightmares we’ve lost only once. We’ve accumulated a points tally that would easily have us challenging for the title in previous years and one that has us in there at the moment, sticking around, just to see what happens. You know, just in case one of the more fancied sides balls it up. When we’ve had players out injured, we’ve dug deep and found a way to adapt. Proving that although key injuries would unsettle us and perhaps cause us long term difficulties – we have still found a way through the fixtures. We did exactly what we had to do through Christmas and the New Year and it’s looking good to finish Jan in similar high spirits as we enter Feb and the ‘doom and gloom’ of the away games we’ll be contesting. A period which is where most expect us to fall away. Mostly based on the fact we shouldn’t be sitting in 3^rd spot. We’re far more robust for these fixtures than some give us credit for.

The guile and grit is ever present. Tactically, we’re sound. Players are impressing. Jake Livermore (sure, it was only Everton but he still has to go out there and perform) played with maturity and composure and looked the part in centre-midfield, tidying up and not scared to get involved and carry the ball forward. Had a pass completion rate of just under 99%. 

Rafa van de Vaart continues to excel, work rate and sublime cross-field passing – he can do both. Michael Dawson returned, action-packed, willing to hurt his body to win the ball, the big huggable lump. Our full backs are pulsating. The unbridled joy of Benny’s goal and celebration testament to team unity. What a peach of a goal. Not forgetting Lennon, back in the side giving us complete width and thus comfort in playing the way we know best. Even though we didn’t defeat the visitors with flair on the night. More so tenacity and focus. We controlled it. This fabled game in hand that we’ve been embracing for so long as the one that can edge us further ahead from the chasing pack and ever closer to the top. We didn’t trip over. We skipped, with smiles.

Yet we could still strengthen further, preferably with young hungry players rather than looking to bring back a memory. But then we’re not in need for such a thing to anchor onto the past in the attempt to get some ilk of stranglehold on the present. Mainly because we don’t have anyone to call back (can’t seem to track down Andy Booth). And more so because we don’t have to look back, just forward. Nothing can be done about what’s happened, what’s gone before. It’s not relevant.

Spurs are still evolving. Which probably explains why I’m not gloating/dancing naked in the street at our lofty position. I’m simply enjoying our football and the players we have. We’re always told we won’t do this and we won’t do that, and whilst they waste their energy on attempting to box us back up...we’ve just kept on going. Football cycles always come to an end, so the death of the immaculate untouchable Sky Sports Top Four has given hope where there was no hope before. Where as you could argue we were punching above our weight in 2006 (because others faltered a little), you can’t say so with the class of 2012.

I’m not even thinking about the title. I refuse to look into her sultry eyes and be seduced. Not until she flashes her panties at me and invites me into her hotel bedroom. I just want us to keep on winning, to keep on believing. The buzz I get from this seasons form is more than enough to very gently alter the way I support Spurs. I’m far less stressed now. I don’t fear defeat, I hate the very mention of it. I don’t expect us to lose games. I don’t expect us to choke or bottle it. I know we can muddle our way through a sticky situation or ride our luck and even brush aside opposing sides and win comfortably. We grind it, we style it. Old school Tottenham, the one we’ve grown up with...the one that can be majestic and beautiful one day and absolutely abject the next. It doesn’t exist anymore. We’re just haunted by a memory, the memory of a fading knee—jerk. An expectancy of failure from the days when our form guide was populated with ‘D’ and ‘L’, punctured by the odd ‘W’. When we do come unstuck, it’s because...it happens. It happens to the best of teams. I know we’ll react positively to it. Because the club’s mentality has been fine tuned to start resembling one that can be synonymous with those of winners.

Momentum, a consequence of wanting more than a win in isolation but the necessity to make every win part of something far bigger.

It’s not happened overnight either. Started with Jol. We learnt lessons with how Ramos came to be and came to leave. Redknapp got us back to a respectable position that the squad of players should have been achieving based on their abilities. Then we took it up a notch. We finished 4^th. We had our adventure. It wasn’t enough, it’s not enough to be remembered for a cameo. We came unstuck last season, we added to our squad this term...and whilst we continue to push on, others stagnate.

I don’t pinch myself because we’ve taken a step at a time to get where we are. It’s been a process, a progression. But it still remains just a platform, a foundation. We’ve got such a good solid chance to make it so much more than that. But if I did take a step back and try to take it all in, I probably would turn melter and go loopy over the fact that we’re contending. I have to go back to ’87 for the last time we looked ‘the part’.

Maybe I’ve got it all wrong, being reserved and holding back. I always cite ‘wear your heart on your sleeve’ because that’s what we do. In the past, when perpetually mid-table we still supported our club like it was the best club on the planet. Why? Because it is the best. Even during some of the most depressive periods with some God awful players lining up for us, we still sang our hearts out. Should not be any different now. Especially with what we’ve got wearing our Lilywhite colours.

There should be no pressure on us. We shouldn’t spend our time in the stands biting our nails. Which should dare to achieve because there’s no glory in simply aiming for something that isn’t first place. Because anything that isn’t first place can’t be the most glorious of things to aim for.

Go on then, pinch yourself.

So believe. Believe until it’s mathematically impossible. Otherwise, you’re only living your life at half-pelt.

COYS.

Return from exile

I've been going to the Lane for years. Recently? Not so much.

I started around 86/87. The few years before the late 80s I wasn't living in England and in the early 80s I was a mere kid (although I remember one game at home to Ipswich, witnessing John Wark scoring at both ends, via the penalty spot. Hardly the stuff of dreams).

I've always found a way to get to Spurs. Tickets on the day through the turnstiles (remember?), membership, generous friends who couldn't go and shared the wealth. It meant if I wanted too I'd be there. And I always wanted to be there.

I was mostly East Stand lower. Towards the Park Lane end, which once upon a time was populated with away support, so it was nice and moody down in the corner. Talking terrace days. I slowly gravitated to the Park Lane post-all seater stadia. Then around 2004 I got a season ticket in the Park Lane Lower. Timing was as perfect as a Sheringham quick-step in the box. In the season that followed, tickets were about to become impossible to get hold off thanks to everyone wanting one. The waiting list was birthed.

It's a ticket (card these days) I'll never give up no matter what (hopefully when we move, the club will consider moving blocks of fans where they currently 'sit' to the new stand in the new stadium keeping everyone together). Would be a fine way to retain the Park Lane faithful. Just a thought.

I went to as many away games as my loyalty points would allow. Although was not keen on travelling on the official coach service the club provided. It was like a collection of odd balls and depressive fans pulled together from various message boards. 'Lifers' I called them. Most of them were seasoned travellers, people who will spend the rest of their days doing so. Still an odd bunch. The 1940's woman a stand-out, she looked like someone had plucked her out of her time and transported her to a confusing future.

"This isn't a time-machine, it's a coach and its only going up North...which technically can be deemed as travelling back in time"

...I whispered to her once. I was standing several feet away so she never heard my banter.

I kept with it before deciding a car or train was a safer bet and would usually travel with the same group making it a far more lively affair.

My life was Tottenham. Everything else revolved around it. Women and social life included.

Then real life drama kicked in. One or two things began to happen. Although it did not interfere with the football, it actually acted as a means of escape, anchoring me to routine - one that could not possibly let me down - win draw or lose. Because the Lane, it was always there. No matter what I was going through, football was always there. When I got over the 'one or two things' I then quite unexpectedly found myself in a relationship. Schoolboy error. Out of the frying pan into the fire.

I only jest.

"Sorry I'm late meeting you. Was watching us against Bolton"

"What's Bolton?"

First date slick vocal moves from me. Bless her, why did I expect her to have a clue about what I was talking about? We lost. But the date went well.

The missus is as good as gold. Except she still doesn't get the football lark, which is okay. I hardly have time for handbags and Choos. But she understands I will never change. It's in my blood. Its actually the one thing that has consumed my life more than anything else. Probably on par with music.

I was still able to get to games whilst our relationship blossomed. That's until my self-inflicted exile. The ultimate sacrifice. The one you're never meant to suffer from because you know it will be all-consuming more so than football or music. The one where the football Gods frown at you for being so naive, then laugh as you walk away leaving behind that treasured season ticket.

She got pregnant. Damn you bareback.

Then I went from a screaming yob in the stands to a considered slave and dogsbody as I was ever-present during nine gruelling difficult months. Yes, its a pain for the woman, but I still firmly believe:

Kicked in the balls > Labour

So whilst I was missing out on Tottenham's gradual evolution with some of you spending it having a beer and a cheeky song, I would enjoy most evenings at her beck and call. Ordering pillows, finding cures for nausea, mixing Marmite with ice cream...you know, rock'n'roll past-times a bloke has to do in the build up to the waters breaking.

I never missed a game thanks to television and internet streaming. But it's not quite the some thing. Emotionally, it is. There's no denying you can be up a hill in Nepal listening to the wireless and still get all mental about the Lilywhites. Spurs has a habit of doing that to you. But I've always found tv and radio and the internet more of a struggle with the nerves than when experiencing the game live. The buzz you get from the ones around you, it's special. At least it can be special. Especially if what gets played out on the field is. Even in defeat, in abject defeat, there is a sense of cleansing as you watch the debacle and make your way home. Alone or with friends.

If you're at the game, you can gauge a genuine feel for things - even if it's subjective. It can be as bad as any blog or message board, with the knee-jerking. Or as funny as one with the biting off the cuff humour. Everybody seems to see something different from you. At half time, you get a beer. Spend twenty minutes queing for the bog. Then you do it again for forty-five minutes and still disagree with the loudmouth three rows behind you who is slagging off a player who isn't even on the pitch.

There are plenty of Spurs fans the world over with little chance of getting to the Lane. There are plenty in London/UK with much the same problem (our waiting list illustrates that point perfectly). I was now one of them. Alone.

With the podcast I work on we've got a huge bulk of American listeners, many have never travelled to the UK. Fans across Europe, Africa and Asia. Australia, Japan and South America. Even Napal. Essex too (me). We're a pretty fragmented fanbase as it is but as fans we are all staunch in spirit. The yanks are particularity fanatical and impressive (early morning breakfast and pub meet-ups to watch Spurs games live). It's fantastic. You simply have to make the most of what you've got.

Alone or with friends, we all share one thing in common. Them lot in the shorts and the cockerel on the shirt. They'll end up playing no matter where you happen to watch the game from. Or you can do is sing or bite your nails. At the ground, in the living room, in the pub or in another time zone.

If you live abroad or simply can't get to games you're pretty much stuck with technology (if the pub is not an option or if we're not on tv). Although it beats the days of just having the back pages of the tabloids, teletext and Capital Gold. Ha, teletext and those Club Call numbers, back in the days when you had to pay for ITK. Now we've got the BBC, Sky, Twitter, forums, blogs, streams. So perhaps I'm not truly alone when I can instantly read the reactions of hundred + Spurs fans who also share the same predicament. Although you still can't get away from the knee-jerks, although it's slightly easier to stick two fingers up at the monitor than turn around at shout down the bloke three rows behind you (who happens to be three times your size and has a tattooed face).

Having seen my baby daughter born (she's two years of age in May) and have endured the hellish first three months and then witnessed her personality grow and more or less cause havoc once she began to walk...I'd hardly swap it all for football. If you haven't and you do you'll agree. It's a stunning, staggering experience. Ironic that ten years ago I said I'd never stop going to games even when I've got kids. I guess pragmatically its just not possible. It is for others (the bloke who has the seat almost directly in front of me has two kids and still gets there). You're either lucky or you're not.

It's not just the home games, away games are missed too. Even the trip up to Blackburn Rovers sitting next to Burnley supporters in the away end. Singing songs to Billy No Mates at Wigan. Out with the binoculars at Newcastle. Then there's Fulham away. Everyone loves Fulham away. Still, as good as any away trip can be, it's not half as good as White Hart Lane when White Hart Lane is rocking.

I was/I am absolutely fine with missing all the games I've missed (knowing my season ticket was in good hands - one set of hands, not being shared either...so please don't slap me on the wrist THFC ticket office please). As far as I was concerned, as long as we win, I could also be sat in Nepal if it meant we kept getting better. That's what I've kept telling myself.

So here I am. Everton at home is when I get to see my treasured seat again.

I'm back home for the golden game in hand. Back in my block where I hope to spend most of the ninety minutes standing and hugging those around me. It's tribal. You feed off each others joy and misery. You experience a mood, vibe...whatever you wish to tag the atmosphere with that you can't quite grasp when switching internet streams or listening to Alan Smith or Ray Wilkins delighting us with words of wonder.

Infinitely better than spending it with dirty nappies and wet wipes. It's a complicated strategy, attempting to organise your Saturday or Sunday around whatever kick-off time Spurs are privileged with and making it look like you haven't even considered there's a football game on.

Hopefully this wont be a cameo appearance. Equally so, I'm hoping it wont be a 0-0 either. Working to get an extended license on my day pass. I don't intend to disappear into exile for such a long stretch again.

On Wednesday I'll be making the journey from the forest I live in, connecting trains until I'm on the Victoria Line and then making the customary walk up the High Road (because I've always hated buses) and prefer to avoid the Liverpool St to White Hart Lane route. Pre-match drink (almost all The Fighing Cocks will be present). A possible pre-match kebab from that Turkish place a brisk skip from the Paxton that does the naan-sized pita bread wrap-up. Then a sing-song. A roar. Game kicks off. Another sing-song and plenty of joyous moments to applaud and drown in one and others ecstasy.

I'm looking forward to seeing a few faces I've not seen for while.

That's hopefully how things will play out.

It's a big game points wise. We've been banging on about this game in hand all season like it's a magical key that might open a door to treasures. In this case, the treasure is of a psychological nature. Potentially, equal pegging on points for 2nd spot. I'm thankful I changed my mind from WBA at home to this. Wolves follows. Then it's the title showdown at Eastlands. Yes, I really did say the 'T' word just then. Might as well play along with it. We need all the points leading up to that game against City. Feb will be a test of mental strength and belief.

So all things considered, I'm grateful to be under the floodlights again. For now, it will have to do.

Who am I kidding. I can't live without it. I need this fix every other week. I need N17. I need the hustle and bustle of match-days. The pre-match bottle or pint. The lack of a constant 3G connection inside the stadium. Raw, live football...without the agenda of television coverage. I need that rush that comes with thousands singing the same words over and over again. That belief the ref is having a stinker based on your view from behind the goal and that every decision is going against us. The stewards asking you to sit down, to which you do for a moment, standing again when a player runs towards goal. The celebrations, the night sky over the Lane, the long journey home. I want it all back.

Anyone know if Angelina Jolie is looking to adopt again? Madonna in need for a new buba? The daughter is only olive skin, but she's still very cute. Will accept money to cover season ticket costs for the next forty years.

Actually scrap that. I can't. It's not a viable option, is it?

I also just remembered the first time my daughter happened to projectile vomit on me. Beautiful moment. She was looking at the tv at the time, then an Arsenal player appeared on screen, being interviewed. That's when it got messy.

I'll hold onto her. She has potential. If I work it properly, if I continue to sing 'Oh when the Spurs go marching in' at bedtime, she'll be my ticket to get to all home games in the future. That's got to be a better life than handbags and Choos. I'll be doing her a favour.

Onwards. COYS.

Love the shirt.

Not all presents are well received

Tweets of the Day from Twitter.

A day or so ago I read a Gooner's tweet that stated something along the lines of 'Spurs can't say anything to us until they finish above us for 16 years running'. The point being, they've achieved over a decades work of finishing in a Champions League spot therefore, the logic at play here is that we are not in the position to be critical of them until we match this. Such a feat might be unlikely for most now that the dominance of the Sky Sports Top Four has completely collapsed from the untouchable position it attained.

Personally, I couldn't care less for their consistency (they still haven't won as many European trophies as us). Talking about the past is fine, but it's just that (the past, been and gone) and it can not always define your future even though it can inspire. All summed up perfectly in response by @NorthernWrites:


But if you are only as good as your last game, what difference does the last 16 years make? We need one year at a time.

reviewing our performance on a generational basis if for mugs. People putting up 19 banners at United who were barely alive...

when LFC were taking the piss in Europe is the stuff of small time c****. How many United fans were loling in the aisles at Henry

and had to backtrack very quickly over Scholes. Football is about the present. Not all presents are well received.

difficult situation being a Spurs fan. Given the supposed woes of Arsenal, it's easy to want to smash "St Totteringhams" day...

down the throat of most gooners we know - politely of course. But then the scales are precariously balanced. On one had there is..

fear that everything could go tits up and we slip below them. On the other, well... can we really catch the Manc sides? Maybe?

Everybody has to fight for their right (whistles Beastie Boys) to be successful and you can only be judged on what is happening right this moment and not what happened last year, three years ago, five years ago, ten years ago...and so on. Same rules apply for Utd and Chelsea.

Everyone has work to do, everyone has to work for it.

Follow me on Twitter: @Spooky23

Randoms

Late lunch break. Chance to share some random gems from The Fighting Cock forum.

via ZoC

Click here for the thread.

"to dare is to do". 

don't want to come across as an old-fashioned, pedantic linguistic **** but if i do i don't give a sh*t anyway.

the original spurs battle cry, in Latin, is "audere est facere". now "facere" is the root word for "faire" in French, which we all know from our o level French is translatable as "to do/to make". this demonstrates the word "facere" is imbued with a far deeper and noble meaning than simply the one-dimensional "to do".... ie. do the dishes or do the shopping.... "facere" in this context is more properly translatable as "to achieve". ie, simply the act of daring is an achievement in itself.

"to dare is to do" is such a poncy way to translate "audere est facere". the **** who did it for sh**** marketing purposes on the basis that fans are too ignorant to appreciate Latin should be shot.

i'm willing to do anyone who dares to disagree.

a far more appropriate translation of the original battle cry - something the fighting cock has managed to encapsulate in just a few short months is this:

DARING TO ACHIEVE

Via S.L.R

For the thread click here.

The thing about a***nal is their manager is bigger than their club. More important to the club than the club itself. He was able to walk into their club and mould it in his image. Couldn't have done that unless the club was a blank canvas. Now all the scum talk about their history of playing the a***nal way. They don't even seem to know their own history pre-Wenger. Boring, boring *****.

Also check out the Hollywood Spurs thread for more gold like this:

thefightingcock.co.uk

Love the shirt

Job done

Never been a fan of radio commentary. Back in the day (when unable to get to the game) preferred the lottery of waiting for the page to refresh on Teletext. No live streams knocking around for today either as the game wasn't broadcasted live anywhere. Sounded pretty much like a walk in the park.

Starting eleven: Cudicini; Livermore, Bassong, Dawson, Rose; Lennon, Kranjcar, Pienaar, Giovani; Defoe, Pavlyuchenko.

Subs: Gomes, Kaboul, Bostock, Carroll, Falque, Parrett, van der Vaart.

Gomes not even fancied for a home banker. Bostock with an apperance off the bench (certain night out in Nandos on the cards after that).

Midfield made up of four wingers/wide players and no natural centre midfielders. But it hardly mattered. Was more than enough to brush Cheltenham aside. Niko with all the time in the world. Well, Town are hardly City. Key highlight was resting all our first eleven with Everton in mind. Job done then.

Defoe (stealing it from a certain chipped Gio goal), Pav (quality team goal) and Gio (deflection) all scoring. Official report here.

Keep an eye out on this video wall from Winkball for post-match reaction from fans who went to the Lane.

The Double is on.

What?

We need it

One of my earliest memories of the FA Cup is not a Tottenham one (that came the year after and again the year after that). The first Wembley showcase I can recall is the one between West Ham United and Arsenal. 1980. It's a memory I'm staggered to have to be honest. But still, it's there.

I'm sitting on the floor in my grandparents living room, tv on, and I watch the moment Brooking nods in to make it 1-0. I guess the preconditioning from my family already had the 'hate the ones in red' set to moderate, easing the dislike gently in as I half-heartedly celebrated by looking at my uncles reaction (one of delight). I then proceeded to leave the room, pick up a football and attempt to recreate the goal in the garden between two flower pots.

81 and 82 followed. Almost all the cup finals of that era were memorable. I actually forgot how last seasons final played out. Had to be reminded of the Stoke/City affair. That memorable and that important. You could once go back ten years and run through the scores of every game played between the twin towers. Why? Because each one of them was an occasion.

Then the competition started to lose some of its magic. Football began to evolve into a beast. Sky Sports. The Champions League. Uniteds rejection. The Cup was time-shared between the same group of teams for an age (no irony lost it was the same clubs dominating the top four). Then it birthed indirect (and direct) disinterest from many that still resonates now, what with clubs preferring to rest players and prioritise continental ambitions as a more viable target to bolster stature via financial gain. The usual suspect still got to finals.

Having the semis at Wembley also doesn't help. It meant something to win it. It was almost as important as the league. You can hardly even contemplate saying that now.

Let's not pretend it's the same competition it once was. It isn't. Much like the League Cup has long ceased to be anything more than an afterthought and day out for most. Regardless of what team we put out on Saturday in the 3rd round against Cheltenham I hope that when the opposition require us to field a strong side, we will.

I'm not about to dive back into the depths of the silverware v Champions League argument. Okay, perhaps just dip my toe in. If we finished 5th this season we'd be devastated thanks to the consequences it would have - a by product of modern day expectations. Although deep down you'd still wear your heart on your sleeve and sing for your team. But its undeniable, the buzz that comes with being a very good side is better than the one that falls asleep in mid-table.

5th and the FA Cup would still give us a migraine across the summer of 2012 attempting to hold onto our key players. Silverware does mean you get that never to be forgotten footnote in history entered into the record books. You'll hardly find the same accolade stating 'x years of CL qualification' achieved by the side of 'Finished 4th'.

So what are we left with? You might cite the need for momentum and that continued growth of mental strength and belief. Because if you combine a CL place with a cup, then at the very least it equates to a tangible honour that rewards a team for its effort, desire and history. There's still something to be said for Glory. And Glory is in the eye of the beholder because lets face it, who cares what anyone else thinks when all that matters is the team you support and the days out you have with them.

You still have to win something to be a winner. We're aspiring to do so. Which is why its important to give it everything. Which is why the league will take priority. But it shouldn't be about priorities. We should always look to win every game we play. We should always believe we can win every game.

We've not won the FA Cup for a while. We've not challenged at the top end of the top division for even longer. There's no escape from it. Football has changed and so have we. Gone are the days when a headed goal from an unlikely source or a mazzy run into the box are history defining moments never to be forgotten, more important than a mere 4th or 3rd spot in the table.

Don't want to patronise this grand old competition. Don't think we'll be doing so if we rest several players for the 3rd round. But we've suffered before by doing just that in the past. We still need to show it the respect it's lost, the respect it deserves. The FA Cup was synonymous with Tottenham once upon a time. We've won it eight times. Of course it means something to us.

We've had a fair few semi-final defeats in the past couple of decades. It's been too long. Regardless of the cup not having the same glamour it once had, its best to remember that glamour is created by players and the teams in the games played. Those magical moments of movement, touch and vision. The great goals and comebacks. Its in those moments that it becomes something more than ribbons on a piece of fancy silver.

I went to all the cup games in 1991 when Gascoigne almost single-handling dragged us into the final. That was a defining season in the clubs history. We needed to win the Cup with Death looking down at us with sickle in hand. We won it. Every game in that run to Wembley becomes more than just 90 minutes of football, long to be forgotten. It's never forgotten. Like a novel unravelling from one chapter to the next, ending with epic emotion and then forever being able to pick it up and read through it again reliving the joy of its concluding pages.

Football is about these moments.

The only way we can go all the way is if we want to go all the way. It's that simple. Rotation, fixture congestion and the league will always run parallel to the FA Cup. None of that should be used as an excuse. Got to hope we change, that I change and that clubs change. You should always look to win the FA Cup regardless of what else is going on. It's a knock-out competition, anything can happen. As for choosing between it and the Champions League, its a moot point. You'll never have the option to choose. We either qualify for the CL or we don't. We either get to Wembley or we don't. The clue is in our club motto.

I hope when my daughter is old enough and if she choices to ruin her life with football, I hope her earliest memories include Lilywhite and silver and perhaps an iconic moment or two. I was lucky enough to see a bloke with a beard score a goal that will never be forgotten in the history of both Spurs and the FA Cup. It was a bit more special than Brooking's the year before. These are the moments that can never be take away from us.

We need more of these moments in our lives.

Follow

If you're on Twitter, follow these people. If you're not, then sign up for it and get following. Think of it as a news stream (if you follow choice mainstream football sites and broadsheet journalists) and a decent way to chat and knee-jerk with fellow Spurs fans.

Don't be shy.

essential spurs

  @adampowley @MartinCloake @SpursFuture @SimonJ68 @drwinston001 @EvilChirpy @thedarkpav  @Bentleysbird @charlottepeachy @oGrime @Will_Hoe @HotSpurLucy @DanLouw @daviddinkin

thfc / bloggers

@dompaczko @EwanRoberts @AllActionNoPlot @WFRFtheTruth @spursblogger @NorthernWrites   @OutsideMid @TomGoulding @THFC1882dotcom @JamesMawFFT @Reptile_16  @Spurs_Latest @gregtheoharis

enemy bloggers / fans

@R_o_M @stevenmcinerney @DanielNotaro @ChuBoi @yolkie_ @StrettyNews @DoronSalomon @Ohpebbles @anand_ramki @TheStokie @PhilBlundell

general football peeps

@differentleague @TheFalse_9 @ifanshare @false10 @SurrealFootball @Twisted_Blood @UFJamesT  

the fighting cock podcast team

@Flav_Bateman @Spooky23 @tehTrunk @RickyTFC @ChicagoDanTFC @TheloniousFilth 

@Alex_Prole @CaseTFC @jodmitchell 

@WindyCOYS @SibsTHFC

@lovetheshirt

Full listing here.

Special speculation

Five days into the January transfer window and it's started. Rumours, whispers, suggestions. The WBA game and the hectic Xmas and NY period proved more or less the importance of rotation and resting players. We have to be in a position to do that without detrimental effects on the team.

My personal mantra remains the same:

We need to bring in couple of players, ideally though that cover should be competition for the players in the squad already. So we should look to sign quality players that are long term and not just short term. If one of them happens to fit the 'special' bill, then that does me just fine and it will elevate us further forwards. But in terms of reality, that 'special' big name signing doesn't quite fit into the sides dynamics if you consider our current first team if all fit and well.

Midfield wise, we've got star quality. Signing a major player for a key midfield role, it's hardly pragmatic. Although the more astute might point out that Levy did just that with Rafa van der Vaart when he was not the type of player we actually needed at the time. That was supremely opportunistic and it was a risk, one that worked at the time and one that did shift us up a level performance wise.

Up front we have Adebayor. On loan. So if we do sign a striker for plenty of £££ then I'd expect our loanee to return to Eastlands in the summer. Any new signing in this position that is not a young hungry player willing to play second fiddle, will want more game time and although Adebayor is in need or a rest we can't keep him + two other forwards content (not forgetting Pav).

Then there's centre-backs. I've ever so slightly changed my opinion on this. Signing one will give us more than ample cover at the back (with Dawson, Gallas, Kaboul) what with King and his cameos. If any of the aforementioned three pick up knocks (Gallas already has) then its too much of a risk to ignore not signing someone. It will also allow us to play Kaboul at right-back to cover Walker (if Corluka goes or is simply no longer fancied). Not ideal having him deputise at RB, but its an option. It does look congested with that extra CB. So again, it has to be a long term signing if it happens and not simply 'cover'.

edit: not forgetting Bassong. Or forgetting him if you so wish.

I guess, what with our position in the league, we can't hope we muddle through Jan/Feb without any further knocks. Hence the importance of getting in players that will improve the squad in key positions and inspire competition. Again (repeating myself now) its dependent on how much money Daniel Levy is willing to spend this window.

The right-wing can do with some injection of new blood. A three-tier player will do. That's an attacking midfielder that can play wide and either just behind the main forward (van der Vaart role) or further forward. To find such quality though, it's a big ask. Which is why we're being continually linked with Junior Hoilett. But again, Harry might be okay to simply push Rafa out there (which is never a good thing), much like pushing Luka to the right.

Huddlestone has stated he's back 'running' in the next week or so. Sandro is out with a calf injury. Parker is injured (not too seriously) and was in a dire need of a rest prior to that. I feel Harry will stick with Livermore to cover the midfield unless there's a better quality player who can be signed. Rodwell is being linked. It would have to be someone similar. Young, willing to be patient. Because once Parker is 100% and Sandro is fit, then its the midfield's turn to be congested.

I'm not even going to consider the consequences of losing Luka to injury. Or Bale.

Perhaps that special player will do after all.

Check out the monster ITK thread over on the forum. I prefer to stay clear of it, but you might want to keep track of all the tittle tattle.

Listen out for the latest episode of The Fighting Cock podcast where we discuss the Jan transfer window. Available on Friday via itunes and on the FC website.

Spurs avoid relegation

Spurs 1 WBA 0

Lack of tempo and direction after decent early pressure. No width. Bit sluggish. Festive period finally bites back at us. Struggled to work around the congested midfield area, tippy-tappy passing epic failure. Too much free-roaming from Bale when the left flank was yelling out his name. The right flank equally lonesome. Players looking tired with movement and touch. Passing was very very average. More than a few were anonymous out there. On top of that we had every other player dropping dead and some dubious substitutions and reshaping as a consequence (Niko in the middle as a CM? Really?). Gallas injured (calf). Sandro injured (calf). Livermore injured having replaced Sandro and injuring Kaboul (who survived it because he's well 'ard). Adebayor playing like he's injured but still managing to beat JD's best mid-season offside tally but is still some way off from equalling the Monsters Inc scare record. Defoe rubbish until he scored. Cue 1000 Spurs fans on Twitter desperately attempting to delete their anti-JD 'get him off' comments. Then he's rubbish again.

There were positives in there. Plenty of effort. Half-Jenas Livermore did quite well, retaining the ball. The experience, leadership and class of van der Vaart included a solid work ethic. Defoe's blonde hair making it ever easier for assistant ref's to wave their flag for offside (positive for them rather than us). That's all I've got. Well that and 68% possession even if our patient play was untidy. Some flaky decisions made on and off the pitch. But we survived any genuine scares.

WBA, decent effort. What with all the hacking and fouling. Made it more so tricky with their 19 centre-backs. But that's just respect for us. Can't expect lesser quality sides to turn up and try and play open football. They'll get murdered, even if we're at half-pelt. So don't try to play WBA and co, just hoof and time waste.

In addition: We still suck at set pieces. Countless attempts at goal without really carving out clear 'ooh it's going in' cut chances. No creative spark. No coat hanger to unlock the bus door and joyride the bulky annoyance away.

Regardless, we won. Ugly. But we won. Professional without being polished. More of a grind. Bit like pulling a bird you don't fancy at the end of a night out. But you still end up scoring and surely that was the objective at the start of the night?

Three points. Winning convincingly is just as important as winning unconvincingly. As long as the latter doesn't turn into a week to week trend then it's no different to other clubs who mix and match and get the points on the table.

I'll leave the rest for the actual match report/after-thoughts (probably not until Thursday if I get the chance as I'm recording the podcast Wed evening) but I'm sure 'squad rotation' along with 'the necessity to rest our players' will be two key talking points. FA Cup weekend, got to be intelligent with selection there. And please no more injuries.

Oh yeah, and 42 points. We can't get relegated now. Open bus parade. Have that Facebook Tottenham Relegation Party. Don't think I've forgotten your zany existence.

The cockerel might have been removed from the roof due to the extreme weather conditions but be sure it can be found crowing in the club bar sharing a drink with Chirpy and his white powdered nasal hairs.

COYS. Mind the gap.

Love the shirt.

RIP to the elderly Spurs fan that passed away during the game.

Three points and we get stripped

WBA (home)

I fancy us, yet something is holding me back from stripping naked and running in the rain singing ‘Glory Glory’ until perhaps after the game has ended (and we’ve won). Sunderland at home proved to be a testy affair which took one moment of unexpected class to give us the three points. WBA are unlikely to turn up and park the bus which might well work to our advantage as long as Harry has a handle on the fitness of the players.

Parker, BAE...just a couple in need of a rest. FA Cup weekend might be the opportunity Harry takes to make sure key players are rejuvenated for the game in hand the following week. Still, tonight’s game is equally as important. We slipped up against WBA last season, we can’t afford for any complacency this time round. It’s hardly a glamour game but it has to be treated like it’s a derby or cup match. Win = attack attack attack.

Will be interesting to see how we deal with the tempo, what with the energy exhausted against Swansea. We’re at home, so no excuse for lethargic displays (on the pitch and in the stands). Everyone’s had a busy festive period. If our lack of tinkering *has* effected the side and the fatigue can’t be shaken off as a collective...we’re in trouble. WBA are no mugs. They are organised and committed on their travels.

Singing in the rain. Fully clothed. Not cool.

One thing this season has told us is that Spurs don’t tend to buckle under the pressure of expectancy. That hunger for success is more than evident. Not to lose when we have a lull in performance, that’s a good trait to possess. We’ve proved our worth, we are contending and we endeavour to remain within the CL spots. That next shift in evolution and belief will come with renewed momentum. In this case, winning the home games we play in the month of Jan. Because the gap that might build up between us and others could prove to be the defining moment of the season so far.

Lennon might be back. Defoe too.

We all know the problem with rotation is that if we do so heavily we are susceptible to losing too much shape. So even with the obvious tired legs, we might only see one or two changes. Harry doesn’t tend to tinker too much. We don’t have the like-for-like key replacements for key players so he’ll adapt the formation accordingly to cater for the loss of Parker or Rafa (for example). JD’s inclusion could well lead to a more traditional 442 which should suit us with home advantage.

Quality wise, even if we made a change we should not be struggling at the Lane. Not if we wish to retain the contenders tag.

Strength and focus at the back. Midfield (Sandro) has to own the ball to allow Modric to conduct and our forward(s) have to be clinical. The later is absolutely imperative. The longer the game goes without a goal, the more confidence WBA will gain. Obvious stuff here, it’s really up to WBA to defend and counter and contain us. We have to look to take the game to them.

The crux is right there. Take the game to them; don’t even give them a second to answer back. White Hart Lane has to be bouncing, with the away end motionless.

It’s an important game. You can excuse results like the Swansea and recent Chelsea home game. Too many slip ups (even though both could be argued as decent points gained) will cost us in the long run.

Turn on the style Tottenham. Grit and class. Have us dancing in the rain (naked or otherwise).

Love the shirt.