Botswana trio in Spurs colours

Right now there are three men in Botswana (two players and the manager of the Botswanna Meat Commission FC - the adopted African club side for The Fighting Cock) wearing Spurs shirts with their name on the back because #thefightingcock wanted it.

Wtf you might be asking? Wtf indeed. Sibs is the one responsible for making the dream reality. Kudos to you son.

Here's more:

Three guys in a country based in the south of the African continent are today wearing Spurs shirts which were sent from London. All made possible by Spurs fans all around the world. They seem so genuinely happy and excited, especially as they can't really understand why a group of Tottenham supporters have picked them as their adopted team.

Sometimes the world is just a flippin' awesome place to be and it is just bizarre things like this that make it so. Thing is WE can make stuff like this happen.

(that last bit sounded a bit like a cult)

~ Sibs

Thanks to you and all members of THE FIGHTING COCK podcast for the lovely present sent to Sikele, Chicco Nare and myself. We are very grateful and will wear the shirts with pride. I will get you a photo of Chicco in his shirt too and send it through.

Modiri Garenamotse
BMC

Chicco 'dance' Nare, the manager of BMC, has yet to don his shirt for a photo opp. Can't wait to see him style it up.

If you're still dazed and confused, this is what you need:

The Official Botswana Meat Commission FC Thread - Facts, history and updates on BMC games from the Botswana Premier League.

BMC FC Christmas Appeal - Spurs fans from around the world donate to raise the money to get the shirts out to Botswana.

Love the shirt.

Schrödinger's cat, done and dusted, don't shoot the messenger

Soz, sick. Hence lack of exuberant blogging this past week. Trying to ease my way to a Spurs v City preview.

Wolves

Looking back at this game, the fact we had to dig deep to equalise and almost went on to win the game...it should not be discounted. I know its still easy to claim its two points dropped but let's wait and see if that's still the case at the end of the season. You'd rather win on Sunday after a draw than beat Wolves then lose at Eastlands, right? Three points is just the three points no matter the opposition, but three points away to City would be worth so much more. The Wolves point might end up being the difference when it's all done and dusted. You know you've been in a war when you can look back at the hard fought battles. A point isn't quite a victory but its hardly the flag of surrender.

Them lot down the road

Avoided the glamour of trolling and attempted to debate the North London state of mind over at the White Hart Pain blog that looked at the trainstion of power (shift) from red to white. Comments section included this from a gooner:

Calm down mate, its January. For a “power Shift” to come about, you would need to finish above Arsenal for many seasons, not just. Next year normal service will be resumed.

I responded with this:

Er…no we don’t. All we need to do is finish about Arsenal the once. The problem you chaps down the road have is you’re not letting go of this fallacy that you’re still a great club. You’ve stagnated badly. Okay, so badly is pretty much defined as still being able to qualify for the CL every season but is that going to be your legacy, your gloat? 15 times on the trot?

Let go of it. Then you might be able to start a new era and move on rather than continue to drown in superlatives that are no longer relevant.

Wenger, came to Arsenal (a blank canvas) and pretty much created a club from his vision. Wenger is pretty much Arsenal. Much like Arsenal fans (most of them) seem to echo the delusions of the manager and part and parcel the same happens with the players.

You once had full rights to be arrogant pricks about it, but take a look around. This is no longer the Prem dominated by the Sky Sports Top four. No matter how much it hurts, its all changed. For the best. You think any club stood a chance during that period of time? Spurs included, we could hardly mount a challenge. Now we can. And its not just because everybody else has dropped off the pace, its because we’ve organically grown and evolved. Stick RvP into the Spurs side and we’d probably win the league (okay, City would still probably edge us out) but Christ…when in the last 10 years has anyone been able to speak about Spurs like this?

The foundations are set. Up to us to push on with it. To be honest, sadly, many gooners would not sit down and debate this. Because many refuse to accept weakness and doubt. They once cited the presence whereas all they do now is remind us of the past when the reality is, the future is there to be made.

But hey, I guess we haven’t got Frimpong denching it across Twitter so we’ve still got a fair amount of ground to cover before we turn into twats.

As for normal service? Is that what Arsenal are these days? Just the rivals of Tottenham Hotspur? It's like we're back in the 1980s again.

I welcome our 'neighbours' to better themselves because it would mean so much more to finish above them when they claim to be superior and at their best.

ITK and the transfer window

There was a time when I would spend the entirety of January trolling the ITK community and mocking the ones that worshipped along with the ones that claimed to have inside information. After almost five years of revelling in this traditional internet dance, I think I've entered a state of semi-retirement. I can't be alone in thinking this window is more so overwhelming than prior ones. Firstly, we don't tend to do that much business and the only type of business that can be embraced as exciting is the opportunistic dealings that Levy is (in)famous for (i.e. van der Vaart).

I don't really want to hear dressed up BS about why the Samba deal is stalling. We all know he's a prospective transfer target. Whoop-de-do. Other targets are taken from the small pool of players we're likely to be interested in based on the fact that we need a centre-back/midfield or winger/forward. If there are say twenty players out there that fit the bill, it's hardly rocket science to work out the potentials. Then we move ever closer to the last day of the window with everyone panicking that no new players will surely spell the end of our season. It's like being a kid and going to a toy store expecting to buy something and you end up coming away with either nothing or a crap toy you didn't really want but just had to get to make the visit worth while. Then you get home and look at the toys you already have and realise you're spoilt rotten.

As for the ITK's themselves, I've been following this thread (for larfs) but hardly paying that much attention to it. Schrödinger's cat would frown. There's can't be twenty or so separate claims of having contact with someone involved in the club. Similarly, we can't be involved in so many prospective dealings at once. It all remains reactive any ways these days. Where's Harry? He's in France. Cue player(s) he is scouting with additional info on likelihood of happening. Yawn. If there are only a few players then the twenty seperate 'leaks' seems to have their own perspective on what's happening. And if nothing is happening then we're blessed with a variety of information on the clubs transfer policy.

ITK's = the internet version of the backpage of The Sun

I've never shared this, but someone (who reads this blog) worked in the business. He's publicised that himself. Hey, he could be telling fibs for all I know (insert smiley here) but the info he did share was always of interest although not always Spurs related. You're more likely to get said info from football agents and the clubs looking to sell/off-load. The wonderful irony is that there are so many political plays and bluffing that it remains difficult to truly know what is happening until it happens. And surely that's all that matters; Player, outside The Lodge, holding up the shirt. I found this to be the case with the info shared. Genuine information...is it still genuine if it's ambiguous? I guess that's why I refuse to get all angry about the ITK's. Wouldn't go as far as offering them an olive branch though. More so the idiots that protect them like some melting pot of a cult.

Oh look. I've gone and repeated myself with all this when I promised myself I wouldn't. Slow news day. In the mean time, 1001 other football websites will boost their click-thru average and earn some pennies for the meter but sharing the same old churned out stories that seem to never go away. We'll have to wait and see if Levy aims to please us or retains a calm composed pragmatical approach (which would equally be pleasing if we improve squad depth).

Do think we need to shift players out first. Perhaps the chairman needs to drop the valuations down a little to do that. Surely we need to be paying someone to take Gio off our hands? Can Faces not sign him as the 'Face of Faces'? I'm sure Ledley wouldn't mind.

Trolling, lol

All I can add to this is...LOL.

For your BAE fix, click click:

A day in the life of Benny

The Stupendous Adventures of Benoit Assou Ekotto

Hyperbole

Staggering how time and time again, a single result shapes (then re-shapes) opinion, which is then presented as definitive. Then forgotten about the following week, replaced with contradiction. Equally staggering is how distorted perception and expectation becomes off the back of ninety minutes of football. One game doesn't make a season, yet in some cases it can consume the ten games it proceeded along with logic and pragmatism.

In the space of a few days we’re deemed title contenders off the back of a win that placed us shared second on points (still 3rd on GD) and then out of the race after a draw at home to Wolves. Even though we remain a handful of points off the top. Regardless of up and coming difficult fixtures, our form (in comparison to any prior season) has been astonishing. Was it disappointing, to draw at home? Yes, of course. But then our performance lacked the edge to win us all three points - so hardly much we can complain about other than wondering/worrying why certain players didn't perform.

It happens.

In fact you might even argue this was the first disappointment of the season, what with the opening two defeats practically banished and the Stoke loss one marked down to inept interference. Is this a modern-day Tottenham crisis? Dropping two points at home? Still third. Still with a hefty cushion of points between us and 5^th spot.

Does any of the pre and post match punditry and opinion actually matter, what with the nature of everyone in football (managers especially) using kidology when changing their weekly perception of being in/out of the race?

Had we somehow managed to break down Wolves and their resolute army of eleven men behind the ball by not being restricted to long shots, had we found a spark and scored a second we’d be talking about grit and determination even though the overall performance would have pound for pound been the same thing as the one we got with the 1-1. Sometimes, it doesn’t happen. It doesn't quite work out. Tempo wasn't quite there. Bale wasn't out on the left enough (scrap free-roam mode for the minute, get him back to basics). Regardless, there is still no need for a dissection, a post-mortem or an autopsy.

No need for verbal dramatics.

Put it down to tiredness (two games in the space of a couple of days) or luck (offside Adebayor goal, arguably not) or perhaps unnecessary tinkering (Livermore). Best to dress it up as a reminder to the evil that is complacency. A gentle nod to the necessity of removing benched players and signing ones that will improve our squad. A calm composed voice explaining to the players that hype is a false God you need not be worshipping.

Start panicking if these results stop happening in isolation and start to trend.

These are not excuses. It’s just football.

We can still aim to finish high. Nothing has changed since Wednesday evening. We needed to strengthen then, we still need to strengthen now. Both with mentality and with perhaps one or two new players. The manager also has to consider the art of rotation and not forget that back to basics element that got this journey started way back when he replaced Ramos. Players in their best positions. Just to recalibrate the side whilst we work through this tricky period (Parker not quite back with us, issues with width, the wrong type of consistency with set-pieces).

Whether the media/pundits/blogs/whomever want to label us with dark horse or contender tags, that’s up to them and its mostly to incite debate and discussion. But mostly because we've got the points on the table. Did everyone write off Utd after they lost to Rovers? No. But then Utd have been contenders and winners for an age. They know how this process works. We're working it all out as we go along.

Which is why retaining feet on ground whilst embracing our challenge is the best way forward. The players will be hurt for dropping the points. P*ssed off. Good. They need to hate the fact they didn’t win the game. Let them hate, let us support and everyone can then focus on the fight ahead. Where we finish up will be no accident, it will be where we deserve to be.

Pre-match, I thought we’d spank Wolves. Just had a feeling everything would come together. It didn’t. With all the possession and shots, it’s doubly annoying we didn’t turn it around. But we didn’t lose. And there is no lack of ambition if I choose not to be overly critical of ninety minutes of football. Although I understand that one game or two can equate to loss of momentum and can change form. That's not something on my train of thought. Left it behind on the platform after the City defeat at the Lane.

It’s so easy with hindsight to suggest tactical reshuffles and selection decisions. It’s also easy to assume we are throwing away a genuine chance to win the league by not being ruthless in these games. I know I’ve blogged about aiming high and looking to compete. That ethos, that remains the same. It’s the only way a team can continue to progress and strengthen that mentality further. But the reality is, we’re probably fall short. Why? Apart from City being who they are? That’s easy. Because we’ve not been in this situation for decades. Because we’ve not got the experience and the learning curve might yet teach us another valuable lesson or two. It's hardly an easy task is it? It's fantastic that we're even involved, that footballing folk are not patronising but honest when they talk about our style and entertainment and challenge.

In some ways, what I’ve written so far in this article can also be conceived as a knee-jerk to all the knee-jerking. I guess I’m just trying to work through it and find a balanced outlook in amongst all the contradictions and (believe it or not) complaints and negatives.

When all is said and done and argued to the point of agreement to simply disagree...Champions League qualification was the goal at the start of the season even though some believed it would be difficult to achieve (one or two continuing their opinion from the end of last season when Harry was meant to have lost his way). Look at what we've managed to do thus far.

Just be positive. I know there's an adrenalin rush, a fear...even a form of pressure because we want to progress to places we've not been before on an emotive level. It's still a positive.

We are third. Three defeats in the league all season. Ten points clear of 5th spot. We are still on course for accomplishing what we set out to do. As for the dream, it still remains mathematically possible even if its something we've gate crashed and remain outsiders for. We're not the ones under pressure to win the title. But rather than be disappointed or fearful about something that might perhaps prove to be out of our reach - if we retain its possibility for as long as we can, by doing so, we will guarantee a challenge and a top four finish. That will give us the opportunity to truly consolidate for next season and build on the belief the dream can happen.

The glory will be gained by not letting go of the desire to fulfil it.

Love the shirt.

Another perspective

Something you might have seen already on a variety of Spurs forums (it's a Cann table).

The Prem.

48 - Man City
47 -
46 -
45 - Man Utd, Tottenham
44 -
43 -
42 -
41 -
40 -
39 -
38 -
37 - Chelsea
36 - Arsenal
35 -
34 - Liverpool
33 - Newcastle
32 -
31 -
30 -
29 - Stoke
28 -
27 -
26 -
25 - Norwich
24 - Sunderland, Everton
23 - Swansea, Aston Villa, Fulham
22 - West Brom
21 -
20 -
19 -
18 -
17 - Wolves, QPR
16 - Bolton
15 - Wigan
14 - Blackburn

If the game in hand was vital, today at Wolves is equally so, what with the the fixtures (mostly away) that await us after this weekend. Including the 'cup final' up at Eastlands.

This is an exciting time to be a Lilywhite.

I'm giddy.

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?