Audere est facere is in my blood

As a solider of the terraces and voice of the disillusioned fan I constantly place my life at risk for the sake of supporter freedom, highlighting then dismissing the propaganda we are constantly subjected too. The ordinary fan needs enlightenment. It's my job to make sure they are not left in the dark.

Audere est facere is in my blood.

I’ve handcuffed myself naked to the West Stand turnstiles. Been attacked by rouge squirrels when attempting to stall the Berbatov to Utd transfer. Fallen out of a tree overlooking The Lodge. Boycotted the Spurs Shop on countless occasions including the time I replaced items of clothing in the shop with effigies of Daniel Levy and Damien Comolli French kissing. I’ve also organised end of season ‘burning of season ticket’ bonfire events. I’ve been arrested, had restraining orders served, ASBO’s and have had to endure my fair share of community service. All because I dare to protest and demonstrate against Levy and his Napoleonistic quirks.

People question my ethics. Apparently I am a hypocrite because I pay for a season ticket every year. Which means I’m helping to fund Levy’s chairmanship – one that I publicly disagree with. But that’s a sacrifice that’s unavoidable. To be able to protest against a war and do so with unequivocal passion – one must sign up and do a tour of duty. I’m on my fifth tour in the South Stand lower tier. That makes me veteran.

Anyone who barks in my direction telling me how Levy is a great chairman because of the money he generates for the club and for transfers are forgetting that most astute business men would easily make a healthy profit from a club of our stature. It’s not that difficult a task. It’s the footballing side that continues to suffer due to his failings. It's not how you make the money, it's how you spend it. The persistence of the DoF system. The contridiction of the Redknapp appointment. The £15M outlays on superfluous players. The cheapening of the clubs name with the delusions of greatness that in reality is nothing more than a ghost of the once true greatness possessed in a by-gone era. The dumbing down of our Latin motto. The Jol/Ramos/Comolli mess. It’s an endless list.

Supporters unfamiliar with my campaigns might think me a little extreme. I guess a man dressed in black combat gear with a camouflaged face mask and a hands-free NVG Cybereye third generation multi-purpose night vision system with additional camera-adaptable extras, illuminator functionality and advanced recognition range would, I guess, qualify me as a little extreme. But I’d prefer committed.

It’s no coincidence that I find myself in Daniel Levy’s back garden. The sun has long since set. It’s been about a year since my last visit to the mansion. The rose bush is looking delightful. I’ve been hiding out in his shed for around seven hours. Just me and this bin liner which holds my Pièce de résistance. A present for the chairman. Not much room in here to move, with the lawn mower and unopened copies of the Opus stacked up. Daniels wife and his four kids are away for the night. It’s not a window of opportunity that arises often enough, and thus can not be ignored. Just need to wait for the lights to go off. That’s my cue. Breaking and entering won’t be an issue. Alarm code is 19611981. It’s practically an invitation. Not that I plan to steal or damage anything. I’m not a criminal. Literary terrorism is more my style. The pen is mightier than the sword. Although for this evening only, subtly will not be my calling card.

I’m here to send out a clear message to the chairman. His tenure is displaying stress fractures. Tottenham is nothing more than a broken metatarsal. From the sacking of Martin Jol to the present day, accountancy aside, it’s been a titanic tapestry of untruths and mistakes.

I’m inside now. Night vision still active.

Kitchen is a mess. Empty bottles of Dom Perignon. Beluga caviar. How can anyone eat this crap? Need to get the taste out of my mouth. Hello. Half drank bottle of wine. This will have to do. Chateau Mouton-Rothschild Jerobam. Can't pick this up at Asda. Prefer Blossom Hills fruitiness myself. Stack of boxes in the corner. Twenty, maybe twenty five copies of the Opus, all still wrapped up. There's another Opus on the floor. Signed by Didier Zokora. Looks like a door-stop.

Living room is as plush as ever. I like what he's done with the place. Cuban. Possibly West Indian mahogany. I can never tell the difference. And....oh.....my.....God, is that a La-Z-Boy?

50" plasma, wall mounted. Krell amplifier. Eggleston Works Ivy speakers. Wu-Tang Clan cd’s on the floor. Plenty of DVD’s too. Separated into different racks for each family member. How very OCD. Let's see what Daniel has in his collection. Ishtar. The Adventures of Pluto Nash, Battlefield Earth 2000, Arsenal 49: The Complete Unbeaten Record. Batman and Robin. Hudson Hawk. The Postman, Gigli. Showgirls....The.....hold on a damn minute! You sonofabitch. You son of a......wait till people find out about this. You’ll be finished, finished. Batman and Robin? Are you kidding me Daniel? It’s garbage. It plays out like a ridiculous parody of the tv show for crying out loud! I mean come on. Schwarzenegger ffs! He got paid $25M to stand around and make wisecracks. Scandalous. They should have given the role to Patrick Stewart. And as for that joke of a Batman suit with the nipples. I feel dizzy.......Breathe damn it, breathe. What's the point of having these fancy speakers and HD if you're gonna waste your time watching an absolute mess of a movie?

I can taste vomit in my mouth. Time to move on.

Only other room worth checking out is the study. Door is open. Forty maybe as many as fifty copies of the Opus stacked up against the wall. Framed picture of Joe Lewis. Stuffed squirrels on the desk. Quite a few post-it notes.

‘Freeze season tickets if we stay up. Increase them if we go down’

'Tell Appiah, thanks but not thanks'

'Possible re-work of club badge. Remove the cockerel?'

'Ideas for new stadium name. The Holsten Levy Dome, Levyville Nike Town, The Daniel Levy sponsored by Daniel Levy'

‘Book a new mascot for Sunday - Chirpy has gone missing’

There's also a laptop. Interesting. Wonder if he brings his work home with him. It’s locked. Windows Vista. Needs a password.

Jenasisgod61.

I’m in. Wallpaper is....looks like the FTSE100. World of Warcraft shortcut on desktop. One hard drive. Seems to have plenty of encrypted files. Requires another password to view them.

Opus61.

I'm in. Hmm. Just photo-shopped images of Tottenham players superimposed onto pictures of the Champions League and World Cup finals. Mock up newspaper headlines. 'Levy is the best ever'. 'King Daniel of the Lane'.'Sir Daniel Levy arise!'. Self-indulgent nonsense.

Maybe his emails will be of more interest.

Subject: Downing
“Hello Steve. It's that time of year again. £12M for Stewart. Let me know today if you accept. Willing to go up to £15M. You know me, desperate for a left-winger. You can reply to this addy or MSN me. Username is LL-Cool-D. I'm on Twitter if you need to track me down.”

Subject: Hello Mr Washington
“It's me. Mr Drove My Chevy. Need your help again. Things remain a struggle since you left. Damage limitation sucks, no? Haven’t got a clue who to purchase. Suggested to Harry we just buy back players we sold. Saves expenses and costs on scouting abroad. Also thinking I should just bid £15M for any names he mentions in tv interviews and see if we get lucky. Hope all is well with you”

Nothing news-worthy here. Time I get myself upstairs. End game is in sight.

And here we are. The master bedroom. And there he is. The chairman. So at peace, sleeping like a baby. It's a shame he will woke up to a nightmare.

I made you an offer Mr Levy. One that you can’t refuse. Stop humiliating the club with embarrassing DVD releases of score-draws and cheap merchandise and I’ll stop throwing frozen shit pellets at your car. But you ignored my letter. And refused my offer. You've left me with no choice. You have forced my hand.

I'm leaving you with my Pièce de résistance, tucked up beside you. Sweet dreams Daniel. Sweet dreams.

Mission complete. Night vision batteries running low. Exit strategy now in motion. Will be out of the mansion and off the property in 2 minutes and 59 seconds....58 seconds......57 seconds.....

Operation Severed Head over and out.