We hate Arsenal

Was in the pub Saturday evening. Sat next to a table that had four blokes who had obviously been in there all day, all drunk and cursing and laughing. They clocked me and Mrs Spooky and two of them started to discuss how long we would survive sitting next to them. I laughed, and they got chatting with us (if you can call it that). Plenty of boisterous bollocks spewing from their mouths. One of them bet one of his mates we wouldn't last 15 minutes. They were insufferably loud and every other word out of their mouths was 'c*nt'.

Game on.

We didn't move regardless. And about 15 minutes later they once more shared a joke about us being the first people to 'survive' their onslaught. They tragically bestowed us some demented form of recognition and they moved onto the next bet, as they spoke amongst themselves. I was eavesdropping a little because I heard them discuss who we probably supported football wise so I pre-warned Mrs Spooky to expect more 'banter' from them shortly.

I already knew two of them were West Ham fans (the two loudest ones). The other two were Spurs. Early in the evening the West Ham fan wanted to bet one of the Spurs fans they would do the double over us and win 4-0 home and away. So I knew that the fun and games were about to begin when he found out who my team was. Eventually, they turned round to face us again and asked the question:

Who do you support?

I didn't answer, and asked them to guess.

One of the West Ham fans pointed at me and said:

"I reckon you're a fucking gooner?"

I didn't say anything, and he then accused me of being a Chelsea fan. Shudder. I replied:

"If it’s one thing I'm not, it's a fucking gooner"

"So you must be a fucking yid then"

I nodded. However, no point in clarifying semantics concerning my family bloodline and origins.

They asked where I thought Spurs would finish, and it was obvious they expected me to say 'Top 4' because that's the fallacy they like to perpetuate about us. I said, tongue-in-cheek, hopefully we'll do well but no doubt we'll finish mid-table. That actually shocked them. Everyone's a stereotype in football, because that's what we have to go on because generalisations make it easy for all. So as I cracked a few self-deprecating jokes about Tottenham being a mid-table side, I could tell I had them a little on the ropes. Almost like I was pinching their best gags.

More over the top tongue-in-cheek banter followed, and the other West Ham fan asked me why I supported Spurs. I told him, it's in the blood going back to the 1930 - 40's. They started talking amongst themselves, and from what I could gather from their drunken slurs they made the strange assumption that my family was from Israel or war torn Europe and had fled from the Nazis and emigrated from to London. You know, cause all Spurs fans are practising Jews, innit? One of them brilliantly explained to his mate that ‘Who else were they meant to support?'. 

I decided not to sidetrack the discussion and confuse them with an explanation of my Orthodox upbringing and the fact that my family were based in the UK.

"Why would anyone want to support Spurs?" one of them asked.

"Why would anyone want to support West Ham?" I replied.

This led onto one of the Hammers saying that when we play them it's our most important game of the season. He was deadly serious about it. It was a statement of fact as far as he was concerned. And hearing it from a West Ham fan (isn't it usually the other way round?) suddenly had me pushed up against the ropes.

The bell sounds and it's Round 2.

"It's your Cup final, not ours". I said, because I knew that would be the exact thing to rile the both of them. Which it did. Which is funny because a moment earlier they had said the same thing to me.

The other Hammer questioned this, and asked me to explain. He wasn't happy.

"Nothing to explain. We just aren’t as bothered with you as you are with us. Sure, it's a London derby and it matters but it's not as important as Arsenal for obvious reasons and Chelsea because they're such insufferable c*nts"

My response incited them further. One of them becoming a little more venomous with his bite.

"You're not a real Spurs fan then are you, if you think that. A real Spurs fan would never say that. What have Chelsea and Arsenal got to do with Spurs? We are your biggest rivals and your most important game of the season is us. It's the one you look forward to the most. You're talking bollocks. Arsenal and Chelsea don't care about you lot, so why should you care about them?"

Jesus wept. I only wanted a quiet drink with Mrs Spooky.

I didn't bother pointing out that if he applied his logic about one team (Spurs) not caring about the other (West Ham) he'd have his answer. But I guess saying that would see me suggesting we are 'bigger' than them, and it's a tiresome statement we get accused of making quite often. Especially as I wanted to get in another round of drinks for myself and Mrs Spooky. That and the fact we are bigger than them. Right?

I tried to explain that it's not relevant that Arsenal and Chelsea (who ironically also hate us more than we hate them – I guess Chelsea and WH both share the need to have another club in the same league admit they see them as their undeniable undisputed rival) have bigger fish to fry and that regardless of current predicaments in stature, the hatred shared between us and those two dwarfed what we share with West Ham. I wasn't trying to wind up or patronise. I stated fact.

"Go to a Spurs v Arsenal game and then come back to me and tell me that us playing you lot is a bigger game"

But they just laughed that off. Proper Calvin Klein stuff. Their measurement of rivalry seemed muddled and fragmented.

Arguably, you could say Spurs v Arsenal is our ONLY true rivalry. But I won't argue against the fact that London derby games do hold obvious importance. Bragging rights, because no doubt you know West Ham fans. But no Spurs fan would swap a win over Arsenal for one over lickle United.

He continued his rant and started talking about how years back he was in the Northumberland Arms and blah blah blah…

“It’s not the 1980’s anymore mate”, I pointed out. He ignored me and continued ranting about old ICF war stories and 'doing Spurs over'. The Spurs fans (one was in his 30's the other in his 50's) were laughing at their West Ham counterparts and asking them to calm down. Although to be fair, neither were really saying too much, probably because they hear it all the time from their two passionate friends. The older Spurs fan did start telling a story about how he once had a drink with Greavise. It was all beginning to get messy with various anecdotes which were meant to prove that I had no perspective on the argument at hand.

I sighed again. Mrs Spooky (who doesn't really like football) was getting involved regardless (bless her) and digging at one of the West Ham fans who was trying to wind her up. Sub-plot here was that I told them early that her family had Claret and Blue ties, which incited them to ask why she was going out with me. I conjectured that it was because of my winning personality and dashing looks.

The other Hammer started talking about how they smashed up our pubs.

“Yes, at 6am in the morning mate. Good one”

One of the Spurs fans started to dig at the two West Ham fans, telling them to drink up, and I did my best to smile and try to talk home fittings with the bird.

You won't be surprised that the 'ammers mentioned 1966 (you know that year, when Alf Ramsey - ex-Spurs - won the World Cup for England captained by that bloke who twice tried to sign for us in '66 and '70 but the West Ham board blocked the move) and also ranted about how we thought we were the bollocks because we beat their kids in Asia and won the trophy. All the usual insecurities rearing their ugly heads where they tell us how arrogant we are when nothing of the sort has been gloated about. So what, we beat them in a friendly. We also lost 2-0 to South China. Both games, equal in their status as non-events.

It ended all a-ok though. One of them shaking my hand and saying 'Always a pleasure yid' whilst I gave him a wink and informed him 'Same time next week?' which had us both laughing out loud. The other Hammer didn't say goodbye as he was still aggravated by my casual dismissiveness for his club.

So my quest to find a West Ham fan that doesn’t spend his time trying to justify a rivalry continues. I honestly, hand on heart, only ever seem to meet and speak to stereotype Hammers who never seem to talk about WH, just Spurs. And they always force the issue too. It's always with a touch of a 'You Spurs fans think you're better than us' type of inferiority complex before we even open our mouths. We don't. Well, I don't.

Do you know what my earliest football memory is? Let me tell you. It's me watching the 1980 FA Cup final between Arsenal and West Ham and running out into the back garden to replicate Brookings goal, diving around on the lawn. You, you chaps in the Claret and Blue gave me a joyful moment that I lapped up as a wee kid, because even at such a young and innocent age I disliked the red and white of them lot from South London and enoyed their defeat.

I get the irony (iron-y) by the way, banging on about this. But it's just a factual account of what happened at the pub.

Usually when this is discussed on-line West Ham fans counter-argument is that we are the ones who perpetuate the fact that they are obsessed by us and that we are the ones with the delusions and that by accusing them we aid to falsely substantiate the fact we are the bigger club. It's a brilliant defence that, don't you think? And I'm sure if WH fans read this they're say, 'Oh look, another Spurs article about how they don't care, yet he cares enough to blog about it'.

Ah, you got me there. I don't really believe in the generalisation of supporters, as we at Spurs have plenty of absolute melters who knee-jerk and fret. We have idiot fans and we have wind-up merchants. But we have far more realists and people with their feet firmly on the ground. Same thing can be applied for West Ham and every other club out there. Apart from Geordies. All nutters IMO.

So I guess, this account of what happened at the pub, is aimed at the people who perpetuate the stereotype. Just so happens I meet two of them on Saturday and it was not a refreshing encounter.

I'm not going to deny I hate losing to West Ham (I also utterly detest losing to Everton and especially Newcastle) but other games have far more of an edge and atmosphere than playing the Green Street lot. Back in the 70's and 80's it was probably a lot different, but then football was a completely different animal back then. It was more raw. On and off the pitch.

Us and Arsenal, no matter the decade, the hatred remains strong. I guess if you grow up supporting Spurs in a West Ham dominated part of the world, your hatred might be strong for them. But never stronger than the love we share for the scum.

Oh look, I'm trying to justify there’s no true rivalry with the Irons. Let me swallow my pride. I guess if that's what they want to hear then sure, it's a rivalry. There I said it. Geographically, you can’t argue against it. We are geographical rivals.

It's just that you're 3rd in our list.

Possibly 4th, because I fucking hate Manchester United. Leeds too for that pissing over the stands incident. Let's call it 5th in-line and be done with it.

The casual guide to feeding squirrels by Dimitar Berbatov

The smile in this photograph is a representation of a smile created in photoshop for creative effect

Hello, my name is Dimitar Berbatov. And this is my guide to feeding squirrels.

I am a Manchester United superstar. I am on the bench for most games to avoid injury and exhaustion so I am always 100% ready to change a game when required and coming off the bench to display my £30M worth of sublime qualities.

You need to be elegant on the pitch and to do so you must be equally elegant off it. It's unlikely you will master life and football to the standards I do, but there is no harm in embracing my squirrel-football ethos. You will be better than the average you are now by taking a step towards understanding my ways.

Remain cool at all times

To be in a good frame of mind, mentally, you must be calm and controlled. I am a private person who has no need to celebrate with cartwheels or aeroplanes. I simply want to play football, nothing more nothing less. When I score, inside, I am a fountain of joy. I do not need to smile or hug to prove this. It doesn’t mean I don’t care, it simply means I don’t care if you think I don’t care.

But I care very much like when I ask for something in hospitality when travelling with the team to an away game and the hospitality girl gets it wrong. It must be perfection or it is nothing, you understand? If I want my tea strong then it must be strong, so make it strong. I did not ask for milky tea. If I want milky tea I will say, please make sure you put plenty of milk in my tea, and then I will have milky tea but when I say strong then it means I do not want a f*cking milkshake... исус христос... what is wrong with some people! Do not make mistakes. You have one chance to get it right, so get it right. It is either perfect or it is unacceptable.

I am upset now. One moment please.

Ok. Let’s continue.

Field of play

I am someone with plenty of time on my hands. On the pitch and off it. I am the master of my own time. When playing I am like Neo from the Matrix. I do what I want and go where I want. I do not need to run around like a lunatic. I know where the ball will be before it arrives so I make sure I’m there waiting for it. That’s how good I am. This allows me time to make sure my hair brace is not out of place and my sleeve-gloves have all my fingers through them. Why run when you can walk and still get to where you want to be? Everyone is in such a hurry. Rush rush rush all the time. I tell that Carlos, slow down, you will have a heart attack if you don’t try to relax a little. But he never listens. And now, it looks like he will be running out of Manchester. He's like Forrest Gump, he never stops running, the fool.

The football pitch must be treated with respect. Like your garden. Do you run around your garden like a mad man? Of course not. It is a place of tranquillity. A place where you go to think. To philosophise. Much like the football pitch.

I prefer the peace and quiet and not the bright lights, night clubs and paparazzi. This is not me. If you have a garden maybe outside of the city or in the countryside this is a good thing. To be secluded and alone is good because it means you are your own priority. You are number one. Me. Dimitar Berbatov.

Theatre of Dreams

I like the squirrels. They are wonderful. I like to watch them eat and play in the garden. It is soothing for me. I understand them because they are very much like me. They know what they want. They go for it. They don’t bother anyone else and they are content, never having to smile to prove it.

When I play football I think of the squirrels. If you make a lot of noise and run around you will scare the squirrels away. You must be cunning like them. A little sly and subtle. If you feed the squirrels they will be happy, if you feed me the ball, I will be happy.

If you want to be like me you must first buy a bird table. I have some in my garden. I have ten. Hire someone else to install them. I am Dimitar Berbatov. I do not have time for work.

If you live in the city or a flat you can feed them from a balcony but this is not perfect. I did this when I lived in London. But a garden is best. It is bigger and better than a London flat which for me is too claustrophobic and small. If you are ambitious and want to feed more than just a couple of city squirrels, you must be strong and do everything in your power to move on and claim your dream for a bigger garden.

Remember to keep the bird tables high up so cats or dogs do not get the opportunity to kill the squirrels. The higher the better. You must avoid having the squirrels walk across your lawn to get to the bird tables because cats can hide and attack. The sonsofbitches, are always ready to attack. You drop your nuts on the lawn and they are ready to pounce, no mercy. They will tear you apart because of one mistake.

The squirrels...the squirrels...they will tear the squirrels apart. Do not drop your nuts.

Once you have your bird tables ready with food, the squirrels will congregate to be social and eat. But you must be careful to feed them the right type of food.

Healthy Diet

Peanuts and sunflower seeds should be placed on the tables as these are the most popular with the squirrels. But it is best to try many different foods if you want them coming back for more. Hazel nuts and sometimes for a special treat a walnut. The more you feed them something extra special the more squirrels you will find come to visit.

Fruit is also good. Apple, pear or plums is very delicious for them. Remember you must slice the fruit. The red squirrels will love this and they will love you. You need to mix it up, be creative. Like the way I beat James Collins to assist Ronaldo for his second goal at Old Trafford. You know, what I’m talking about. The magnificent turn and deft touch of the ball. There I am, there's the ball, there is Collins and....oops, where have I gone, I'm over here James, the ball is with me and you are still over there kicking air and then I give the ball to the feet of Cris and it is a goal. 2-0. I smile a little, but no white teeth.

I was able to achieve this skill because in my mind I was projecting the motion of feeding a nut to a hungry squirrel. A graceful movement, one that glides without impatience or forcefulness. At that moment I left Collins behind I transcended between Old Trafford and my garden, feeding a squirrel and Ronaldo.

Do not feed

Finally, it is very important that you do not feed them wheat, dried maize or peas. This is like playing in a team with Zokora, Jenas and Bent. Do you want your squirrels to choke? Of course not, so do not feed them shit.

And finally you must remember grey squirrels are scum. They carry sickness and can infect red squirrels which will kill them. You must remove all food from your garden until the grey squirrels are hunted down and destroyed by the wild life authorities. Or perhaps you successfully capture them all yourself and have them eliminated then stuffed and placed in your trophy cabinet. Either way is fine.

And that is my guide to feeding squirrels and if you follow my guide by doing so you will be richer in life, both professionally and privately. You will find a parallel between your most quiet moments off the pitch and your most quiet moments on the pitch allowing you to control your destiny with casual ease. Thank you.

By guest-blogger Dimitar Berbatov.

Spurs, black helicopters and men in black - The Truth is out there...

Half-time at Old Trafford

Disguised Voice: Don't leave this game alone, Agent Webb.

Webb: What?

Disguised Voice: They will not tolerate a buck to the trend.

Webb: Who are you?

Disguised Voice: I, er, can be of help to you. I've had a certain interest in your work.

Webb: How do you know about my work?

Disguised Voice: Well, let's just say that I'm in a position to know quite a lot of things, er, things about our game.

Webb: Who are you? Who do you work for?

Disguised Voice: It's unimportant; I came here to give you some valuable advice. You are exposing yourself and your fellow professionals to unnecessary risk, I advise you to change the game.

Webb: I can't do that.

Disguised Voice: You have much work to do, Agent Webb, don't jeopardise the future of your own efforts.

--

Post-match in the away dressing room

Bond: Would you explain to me what's going on.

Redknapp: I think they re-wired Webb's brain. Some kind of selective memory drain.

Bond: The brain doesn't work like that, Harry. You can't just go in and erase certain files.

Redknapp: Then you explain it to me.

Bond: There's a  type of Narcolepsy th..

Redknapp: This is not Narcolepsy, I think it's something far more deliberate and insidious.

Bond: All I'm saying, is that the science or medical technology to do what you are suggesting, does not exist.

Redknapp: And neither does the technology to re-watch the type of controversy we saw yesterday.

--

In the aftermath of the game

DEEP THROAT: Your life may be in danger.

Harry: Why?

DEEP THROAT: Mmm, you've seen things that weren't to be seen. Care and discretion, are now imperative.

Harry: I saw something I...

DEEP THROAT: As I said, I can provide you with information, but only so long as it's in my best interest to do so.

Harry: What is your interest?

DEEP THROAT: The truth.

Harry: I did see something, but it's gone, they took it from me, they erased it. You have to tell me what it was.

DEEP THROAT: Three points? Mr. Redknapp, why are those like yourself, who believe in the existence of a Premier League illuminati in this country, not dissuaded by all the evidence to the contrary?

Redknapp: Because, all the evidence to the contrary, is not entirely dissuasive.

DEEP THROAT: Precisely.

Redknapp: They're here, aren't they?

DEEP THROAT: Mr. Redknapp, they've been here for a long long time.

Redknapp: Triffic.

Re-worked from the X-Files episode 'Deep Throat (1x01) written by Chris Carter - from the excellent transcript from the Generation Terrorists site.