NLD journal #1

Afternoon.

Saturday. Small and insignificant matter of the North London Derby to be played out. The nerves, anticipation and expectation hardly kicks in until the morning of the game. I'm actually struggling to inspire myself for yet another 50,000 word epic war cry of an article calling for our players to show an abundance of desire, passion, determination, hunger, tenacity, organisation, cutting edge, end product, professionalism, concentration, never say die attitude and belief. Because as a set standard, all of this should be present from the off.

Yes, yes, injuries have a knock-on effect to formation and tactics (what tactics? Running around a lot and kicking the ball works just fine, right? No need to jot that down on a clipboard). And yes, yes, we always fail to get it right in the build up to this game and then fail despondently on the pitch. I can never understand this knee-jerk the players manage to achieve. At the swamp, we tend to defeat ourselves. Turning up in flip-flops rather than military certified boots, sinking deep in the cesspit.

In the 4-4, we packed a jet-pac to escape drowning.
Last time out, not even half of the team bothered to show up and the ones that did rolled out the red carpet on the marshlands allowing our inbreed hosts to skip joyfully on.

The Carling Cup game should be discounted altogether. Hey, that's what they do, right? Although it serves its purpose as testament to how times are genuinely changing - not in terms of us progressing ahead of them (because we haven't) but in terms of how far they have fallen. Granted, they are still in that degrading pack of three up top, but anyone at the Lane on the night would have laughed out loud at the sheer ecstasy their fans displayed, proclaiming just how important the CC is via their emotions. All of a sudden it matters. When we now suddenly refuse to take it seriously. Their fans, textbook in gloat, describing the game in WengerVision in how their kids beat our first team. Ooh the irony.

But enough with past misdemeanours and misadventures.

Blood and thunder is what this game was forged with in creation. To turn up and roll over for them, it's unacceptable even though it's hardly surprising when it happens. At the Lane last time out (I'm talking about the 2-1) we got it spot on tactically and were fantastic in terms of our will to win the game. We punished them whilst they played pretty football in and around the box without doing much and when they did push and pressured we had a formidable Gomes in goal to shut shop, other than allowing a consolation goal to creep in. We did not choke and when you place it alongside the Chelsea victory that followed, it was all pretty special. An awakening. So hoping we're not snoozing this weekend.

At the Emirates we do like to implode. One good omen this time round is the lack of a Robbie Keane pre-match declaration of victory. There is still time for someone to shag it all up, I'm sure. I hardly take much notice of the talk that goes on before because its just sound-bites and reflexed answers to questions that aid in quotable headlines, always exaggerated for additional effect. Like most games, but it's not a necessity for me to get caught up in a game that hardly requires the help of hype.

Re: the injuries and formational tinkering, I'd rather not linger on any ready made excuses. It's not like Arsenal are without problems. They're inconsistent, can make hard work of trying to walk the ball into the net and are quite obviously beatable at home. It's evenly matched. At least it will be if we turn up with chests pumped out. Nothing worse than clumsy implosion. Would rather lose the game playing out of our skins than lose it cheaply gift-wrapped.

JD might be back. Hudd is out for three months. Agent Gallas will no doubt score an own goal and rip off his shirt to reveal red and white colours then sit in the middle of the pitch crying his eyes out confused and alone. Ten home fans will sing to themselves in the far corner, reciting from their hymn sheets whilst the rest tuck into their half-time ribs. Jenas will score a brilliant brilliant individual goal. But we'll be 7-0 down at the time and when the final whistle is blown, we'll be demanding a dvd from our club shop for the plucky comeback that saw the game finish 7-6.

We need a win. Not just because its them lot but because Christmas is almost upon us and we have to remain anchored to 5th/4th spot so that after reinforcements in January we can truly give it proper go (I'm still holding onto us kick-starting our season any time now).

We need to win, we need to end this ridiculous run of away day blues against the former monopoly, we need to discover sustained swagger. And rather than worry about our defensive frailties, let's just make the most of their defensive frailties.

Momentum. About time we embraced some.

More journals to follow in the build up to the game.

NLD: post-match thoughts and stuff

Okay, so it’s the morning after, and I've stated countless times I have no intention of excusing the 4-1 loss, but there is no reason to perhaps add perspective to the result and try to understand it.

I know Arsenal fans are desperate to wipe clean the memory of the 5-1 and last seasons 2-1 which ended their season (deal with it Wenger) but let's get some perspective here. Had we won last night, the game would not have got a dvd release.

Selections and formations

Harry stated, a while back, that the game is fundamentally about the players. No matter the formation. 10% about the formation, 90% about the players on the pitch. To quote him:

"If you have the best ones and they do their jobs, then they can pretty much play any way you want them to"

So no shocker then that when you play Palacios in an offensive midfield position, Bentley on the wrong flank, Gio on the wrong flank, then stick in some debutants including Sandro - who, let's be fair, is not going to be that confident in the side fielded unlike say a side with the likes of Bale, Huddlestone, Modric and vdV surrounding him.

I don't blame Harry for playing the players he played. Rock and hard place. If he's not going to play key players, he has no choice but to play the fringe ones. To be honest, I didn't expect Wenger to select so many first teamers in his squad - and then play all of them. I guess he really wants to win something this season.

I stand by my pre-match belief that a NLD is exactly that and we should never be looking to field a non-competitive side. Fact is, the patched up ethic doesn't work for us. It's not so much to do with out of form players or even out of position players (although that has an influence). It's to do with the lack of an in-house top to bottom philosophy.

Philosophy you say?

Our first team is rather good. Our first team would have beaten the team Arsenal put out last night. I'm confident of that. More than confident. Arsenal's first team? Well, that would have been a full blown NLD, blood and thunder and silky skills. We got nothing of the sort last night. So why can Arsenal play a mixture of youth, fringe players and first teamers and look so comfortable against our side of not so many first teamers, put plenty of supposed quality and promising youth?

Well firstly, the supposed quality is either spent or inept. And the promising youth is just that, but not yet excelling. Simply put. Wenger, the canny s.o.b. and the culture he has instilled into their club means that from top to bottom they play a distinctive style. Players are signed and developed to fit into a style of play. Its all very specific, and although arguably, at the moment (at least in the past half-decade) its not proving to be successful in terms of silverware, they do produce very clean, crisp, technical football. They are still massive c**ts, blatantly, in terms of moaning/diving/non-acceptance of defeat - but what it does mean  is that they can mix and match and not betray their philosophy of play. There appears to be no detrimental effect, although, under-strength Wenger sides have had their arses spanked before. There are limits. The hype is just that.

There is also no doubting we play with a swagger and style. We always have. It's also the culture of the club to play sweeping pulsating football. But what last night proved is that if you don’t play a spine of first team players, if you take key players out of the equation, it all falls apart. It's not so much sweeping, but more sleeping. Yes, Harry did not help matters what with players out of their natural positions. And some of the players did not help themselves (what is the point of David Bentley again?). There was no cohesion or togetherness out there from our lot. Disjointed the thought of the day.

Our players are player-dependent. The system, it works best when the key players are starting. If we miss key players, there is still enough about the collective, mental strength wise, to still pull it altogether. Far too many light-weights, in the head department, last night. Then again, this is just the one game, so I won't be looking to scape-goat. More on Harry and the players below.

I'm not suggesting an overhaul of the academy, re-introduction of the reserve team etc - although that would be fantastic in terms of long term plans. In the short term, if we're going avoid risking key players but still remain competitive, then for starters - let's have some consistency in formation and balance the team out so it can at least pretend to try and play like a full strength first team. This would mean, signing a particular ilk of player. It's not an over-night solution. And Harry - long term - might not have the inclination to work in this way. Levy - wise up and get on it. If anything, the academy really has to start pushing on at same point soon.

Quick-fire player reviews

Pletikosa - Not very convincing
Naughton - Struggled
Caulker - Played well, but clumsy needless penalty. Would want to see him involved in more games because there is defo something about him that would have me think he has a future
Bassong - Meh
Assou-Ekotto - Was fine, nothing more, but you try looking effective with Bentley up ahead of you
Gio - Had to be subbed. This kid must have something if you can do it at international level. Time Harry cut him same slack ON the pitch
Sandro - Debut, NLD, showed glimpses but can't be too critical, considering the surroundings
Livermore - Struggled, not quite ready, even for a lower-tier cup game
Palacios - He's a DM, not a very good one at the moment regarding form, so why start him in a more offensive position?
Bentley - Honestly mate, stick to setting your foot on fire and diving into in-door swimming pools
Pav - No service, is not the type of player to carve out something from nothing

Keane - He scored. Hit the woodwork. Didn't do too badly, but if we're comparing him to Keane of old, it's all a bit depressing. He has lost the mojo.
Lennon - Little room for movement, little effort when the ball was at his feet. Do we need to draft in a psychologist?
Kranjcar - Out of position

As for the swamp things?

Plenty of possession, movement and passing. Didn't create that much though, did they? Two penalties won them the match, even with our complete incompetence to resemble a competitive side, it flattered them. I know, that's subjective. I wonder if Wenger will play a full strength side if he faced Chelsea in the next round? Probably beat them, innit, what with them being wonder-kid toddlers with mental matrix skillabilities. Gooners are really milking this, bless 'em. I guess they have to take what's handed to them on a plate and make the very most of it. At least they care enough to gloat. Take the bragging rights - no argument - but don't kid (lol) yourselves. It's not half as impressive as you'd like it to be. But then, you know that.

Conclusion

Harry got it wrong. It happens. Did he honestly think Wenger would play the under 11's? Whatever it was he tried to do failed, epically. It's frustrating that, say the likes of Gio who hardly gets a chance, gets one but is played out of position. Bentley, who you'd hope would want to change his application to something that doesn't involve him pouncing around like a really crap David Beckham impersonator, failed to ignite any hope of redemption. I'll stop now, I did say - no scapegoats.

If he can learn something from this, it's some players really do need to be gone in Jan and others need to be developed and used effectively. It's a shake of the head from me that Harry didn't follow his own belief about playing players where they play best.

Even so, what with all the post-match reflection this morning, the game changed on the first penalty decision. The chances created prior to that (our chances) were better. So, in the grand scheme of things…don't read too much in it. It sucks losing to them, its never acceptable to lose in a dejectable manner, but that's football.

Roll on Saturday.

Group hug

Dry your eyes lads. At least we have a cup final to look forward to this Saturday.

As for tonight, I made it clear I didn't care for pre-match selection and if that meant making 10 changes to the side to protect other priorities, regardless, I would not be using that as an excuse post-final whistle. Unlike say our neighbours always manage to do. I wanted 110%. Sadly the side could only give about 60%. The reality is you don't win anything with a patched up team that hand out gifts to an opposition that will be nothing less than clinical in acceptance.

Too much belly-button fluff from us. And their belly-button fluff congealed far better than ours.

The less said about the defending the better. Harry probably got what he wanted. No more Carling Cup games to interfere with the schedule. I feel all dirty for saying that. Sell-out. Cue various shrug type sound-bites from Harry and the Sunday Supplement crew positively creaming their pants. Heads up and just avoid the rags. You'll work your way through it, no problem.

At least Sandro looked decent.

Lesson to be learnt? In future, regardless of what else is going on around us in terms of competitions, never...never ever play a weakened side against the enemy. Yes, the EPL is more important. Yes we do not want players picking up needless injuries...but this is the NLD. Reserve game or otherwise. It's a crock to lose it.

COYS. Onwards.

The Carling Cup NLD is not important

If you believe the title of this article, you're an idiot.

Yes, yes, it’s the lesser of all the silverware available and we have two massive priorities (4th place in the EPL and our Champions League adventure) to contend with. And no doubt Harry and Wenger will probably play a little mind-chess with their selection tomorrow night, probably (via the media) agreeing to play patched up sides of yoof, benchers and a few select first teamers thanks largely to injuries and those other priorities.

This gives them a chance to compete and win on an almost even playing level without selecting a best eleven, and thus appeasing the thirst for blood both sets of fans will demand. If we win, it's because we beat the kids. If they win they'll tell us how amazing their kids are. And for the losing manager, they will churn out the type of excuse that will no doubt hurt either set of fans, about how 'it was only the Carling Cup/it doesn't matter/it's not important'.

Even though this is only the Carling Cup, it's still a North London derby, and I'd be hard pressed to find a NLD that doesn't mean a thing. I'd be gutted to lose to the swamp things. If we had no players to select and had to field bits of string and belly-button fluff I'd still demand 110% and would be crushed if we got beat. It's Arsenal. It's the enemy. They think the same way. Why would any of the collective creeds think any differently?

We live to hate.

If it was up to me, I'd play a full strength side and be done with it. No belly-button fluff, well apart from JJ. It's all highly unlikely considering Harry has already stated he will use the entire squad to select his team from and in addition King, Corluka, Kaboul and Gallas are all (apparently) unavailable for selection thanks to injuries. Wenger has the same headache, not wanting to risk certain first-teamers because he'd be left with little in reserve if they pick up knocks on Tuesday night.

Which means, if you really want to be anal about things, you could argue that it's not a proper fully-fledged NLD because neither side are going to be anywhere near all-mighty strong. Which sounds like a ready made excuse to me. So let me refer you back again to what I said. I don't care who plays. Losing to them is never acceptable.

That's it.

Wear the shirt with pride. Get stuck in. Tenacity Tottenham. Bite their b*llocks off.

COYS.

Make some noise...

 Danny won the derby Danny won the derby La la la la, la la la la.

2-1, innit...

In my match preview I stated the following about the north London derby:

It should be nothing more or less than the most important 90 minutes of any season. Blood, thunder, drive and spirit. And tenfold passion. How else can you possibly match the noise in the ground? If that can't elevate you then nothing can. And yes, bite me, I'm a football romantic, but to me these games should be defined by guile and tenacity of the players out on the pitch. And not because XXX is out injured watching from the sidelines.

To dare is to f*cking do, so just f*cking get on with it and do it.

The Gods, they finally smile down upon us. Where do I even start?

Immense night, immense result. We dug deep, deeper than we've ever dug before. I'm talking centre to the earth deep.

Sorry, this blog article is not going to have much of a structure as I'm just throwing various bits at it as and when I remember to do so. It's the emotion. I'm choking up over here. That and the fact that today will no doubt play out like a really really good (lol) M. Night Shyamalan movie where all Arsenal fans have suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. No shocking twist at the end of this one. Bless 'em. The gutless geebags.

Talking of the geebags, I don't like to gloat. Honestly. It's something they do, and they do it without class or humour. But honestly, open forum lads. Your season, ended. At the Lane. What next then? I suggest you start taking the Carling Cup seriously. Honestly, it's a fun day out. With the pyrotechnics and flags and stuff. Honestly, 5 years without a club DVD? That can't be good. If this is Spurs punching above their weight, then don't mind me whilst I dance like Robbie Keane.

Was that a gloat? I guess it was. Eleven years ya know. I'm a bit rusty.

Gomes was magical. Dawson awesome. Bale and BAE storming down the flank. Sure, there were moments when you might have sighed at another misplaced pass or the lack of ball retention allowing them more time to neatly pass the leather around. But for all of Arsenal's pretty possession, they hardly did much to genuinely worry us in the final third. Well, until the final 15 minutes or so when I was too busy chewing on my hand to dare look up at the action. Although when I did, I caught glimpses of a flying octopus sprouting wings as it flew through the air at lightning speed to guide the ball away from the goal. This was no CGI effect. And I would gladly allow said octopus to sleep with my wife. If I was married. But he can have a go at my bird if he so wishes. As long as I can watch.

Even Kaboul gave effort beyond his means, even if he's lacking in so many other ways. And I'm not referring to the lack of depth in his eyebrows. But there is no criticism to be found for any of our players, not in these euphoric post-match hours.

Everyone gave it some. For the colours. There was heart and there was desire. Not so much composure at times, but plenty of it when it mattered most. And the second goal, just inside the start of the second half was like a point blank shot in the back of the head. Bale, the sneak, sneaking and slotting it for 2-0. Definitive moment that. And richly richly deserved that.

How many times have we buckled in the past against these jammy fuckers? Too many to mention. We might have struggled to beat them over the years, but some of the score-draws tell a different story. And in this case, it was simply not going to happen. Tired legs? I saw no tired legs.

Like some form of mystical sponge we soaked up the pressure and at times looked more likely to score on the fast break, in comparison to their 20 pass move that ended up with a goal-kick.

Shout out to Eidur Gudjohnsen. When he came on he was superb in possession. Should have made it three. But I forgive you Eidur. I forgive you.

King, Ledley. A man who doesn't train. Probably nowt wrong with his knee either. He's probably not even human. I'd hazard a guess and say 'bionic' in creation. The reason he only plays one game every three months is because we're busy recharging him in-between. Have to do it slowly otherwise we'll bring down the entire national grid.

Back onto Daws. Strength of character. Must have been devastating, Sunday. And yet what a performance. Commanding stuff.

Have I mentioned Bale? I have? Can I mention him again? What. A. Player. Confidence. If you could bottle the stuff it would sell for millions. In the meantime, if you get close enough, you'll smell it in his lush black hair.

Gomes and those saves. Billy the Fishesque.

Oh Danny boy, Danny boy...what a strike. Majestic. Beautiful. BELTER. A left-foot gem of a thumping yet graceful volley. Worthy of it's own DVD. Talking of which, I've checked the official website and I see no new release. Slackers.

LOL at people suggesting it was a goal-keeping error. Okay, so Alumnia is shite and he sort of dived under the ball when attempting to save it, but crickey, did anyone expect a player to strike the ball ON the volley from 30 yards out after the keeper punched it out? Do one playa-haters.

And let's not forget Harry. O knee-jerkers, knee-jerkers! Wherefore art thou knee-jerkers? Starts Pav and Defoe. Plays Danny Rose (okay, so this might have been textbook luck that no doubt Harry will play on, but it still took guts). Organised and focused, we defended like warriors. Granted, we watched a lot of the ball at their feet, but the pressing worked. Second half, two subs made. Tactical master-stroke. Not just the subs but the way we countered Arsenal. We didn't just shut shop on them. Hit them on the counter. Soak the pressure and hit 'em. I'd like to refer you back to the second goal. Even the first goal came about after sustained pressure from them.

Have we played better football, dominated possession - against them - and come away with a point or nothing? Many times. Which is why this is so so sweet.

Also, Mark Cluttenberg. We slate refs when they botch things up and always make sure we mention it. So, it's only fair I point out that I hardly noticed him in the NLD. He had mad flows. Considering the intensity of the game, credit. Just a little. Don't want him overdosing. And if we want to be critical, he should have waved his yellow card at some of the Arsenal players for the odd theatrical dive and elbow. Okay, so he's shit, but he's no Howard Webb.

Judas? He actually played well. Hope he enjoys the memory.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, the scum got a goal back. THEO (did he just guarantee his England place with that assist? Did he? Did he?) crossing in for...it doesn't really matter does it? They got dicked.

I'm off to Swansea Thursday morning. Work thing. And drink-up. So will be back on-line Friday evening, unless I sneak in a cheeky blog post at some point tomorrow. Will also announce the winner of the 'Spurs Cult Heros' book. More to follow for sure.

Enjoy your day.

COYS.

Not for the faint hearted. It's the NLD...

It's not lost on me. The irony. That we can have a season full of hope and genuine progression, not of the deluded kind, but the type where other fans concede (and thus confirm) that we have made some decent strides forward. And yet two successive defeats could result with the gold at the end of the rainbow lost for yet another season in a downpour of angst and pain. Eternally, it would seem, out of our reach.

Some have knee-jerked already. Harry out. Yes, we do have fickle fans who seem to sing with the rest of us and then riot the moment things don't go our way. And yes, it's frustrating to see the same tired excuses suddenly cameo to ruin what was a perfectly good Cup run. But these things do happen. And to suggest they always happen to us is the type of victimisation that a fan of any other club, even the ones that win things regularly, mumble about every now and again. The world and the Gods of fate always stand in the way, as its usually the only comfort we can take when, I don't know, people slip in the mud or a perfectly good goal gets disallowed. How else do you get your head around it? Oh right, of course. Blame the manager.

Depending on your perspective, the season will either end in tears or be one that we can look back proudly on - and that's even if we fail to finish 4th. But then that depends on whether you think/believe Harry saved us and has got us moving forwards or whether he took advantage and acted out his saviour role but will struggle (is struggling) to take us to the next level.

How bad were we under Ramos? Two points, eight games bad. Bad enough to go down? Probably not. All it needed was some back to basics that he (HR) provided. He got us on the up, when most thought he'd fail. So can we really truly be critical of him considering how the opposite of patience (what we usually dish out on and off the pitch) has hardly ever helped? Yes, he's an interim manager (IMO) who will pass us over to the next big thing when the time comes, but his work is far from over. Stability is the key. Otherwise there is nothing to be handed over, apart from another fine mess.

Perhaps with the money spent and the players we had - at the start of this season - challenging for 4th had to be a given. It's turned out to be a given through-out thanks to the hard work and graft by all concerned. It's quite obviously never been a banker. But then that was never going to be the case. We've made ourselves CL contenders, with the aid of the ever decreasing power of some of the Top 4 sides (Liverpool anyone?). Some fans will say that 4th this season was never the objective and that we have over-achieved and based on last seasons antics, we should be happy with our lot. I see that as nothing more as a ready made excuse to appease people who can't handle the pressure.

It's all part and parcel of supporting a team. You're going to have ups and downs, and in this era of the monopolised Sky Sports 4, you take what you can when you can and try to make the most of it. And in the midst of it all, you make sure that the club and team grows and matures and progress is had. We've dropped points that would have been useful at this juncture of the season. But we lost them because we're not quite good enough, in some quarters. Beating sides who defend deep and with numbers and breaking them down has proved to be a bugbear. We'll learn from it. There is tinkering to be had with the midfield and the attack and sustained long term plans for the central defence conundrum (i.e. King's future). We'll learn from it and push onwards because there is no other choice.

Okay, so it's gutting there is no additional Wembley day out. Move on. It's done and dusted.

Chelsea on Saturday. Utd the following weekend. Yes, we have injuries. Yes, arguably we might not have players mentally strong enough to pick themselves up from the Pompey loss, and if that's the case then all that's left to do is renew our season tickets and look forward to a summer where City will spend half a billion and we request donations to the Tottenham Foundation when the poorer side of Manchester come knocking. We'll be in the thick of it again, no doubt. Regardless of how much other clubs look to improve, we'll improve ourselves. Which makes the Premier League even more open and entertaining.

But before all that, there's the matter of the NLD to be resolved. Two sides, depleted, both not at the level they wish to be and both having their own personal and differing issues with defence and attack selections. It's open. Its massively open. More so than you think. Yes, it can turn into a one-sided affair, if either the whites or reds take the initiative and turn the tempo to a pulsating level early on. We've seen that happen plenty of times before. Or perhaps one team might dominate, and the other nick a point at the death. Or perhaps, tired legs will play a fatal part in the result. One thing is for certain, there is far more of a 'underdog' feeling about this based on the fact that we've not had that much time to rest and the fact we've been dumped out the Cup. But alas, excuses, excuses. I don't care for these minor details. The game is completely unpredictable. And I'd be damned if I was going to sulk pre-match about it.

It's the North London derby. A match solely based on matters of a footballing nature. No politics or religion. Just football. Two neighbours forever hurling abuse over the garden fence. Would not want it any other way. Well, apart from perhaps building an extension that casts a shadow over their back yard. Knock-down ginger doesn't quite cut it anymore.

Form guide? 23 games. Same amount that Gareth….sshh. Don't say it out loud.

The players, they should be fired up regardless. As fired up as the fans. No one can argue that we've not had our moments in these games in the past, but having moments is not always enough to guarantee the three points and the all important bragging rights. One of the inherited legacy problems Harry has is the fact that unlike other sides (City, Everton etc) we never manage to get one over our rivals. We always turn it into a struggle. That's how we roll. Perhaps its because of the hype, self-perpetuated by stupid players and the media that we are somehow on par when we're not. Dig deep, play the role of underdog. Show no respect. Because on the day the belief can be that in the 90 minutes - we can better them, and surely that's all that's required? That's how we should roll. We did exactly that in the 5-1 semi but went to pieces earlier this season over in their patch.

But fuck me if you think I'm going to dig a grave six foot deep and dive into it with a copy of The Opus and a lock of hair from Daniel Levy (use your imagination).

Yes, it's going to be a bitch. Gotta love the fixture list computer giving us these three games towards the end of the season (insert David Dein conspiracy theory here). It happens. No reason to complain. Two London derbies and a trip to Old Trafford. I'll take that gladly thank you very much. In amongst it with the potential to rattle the odd cage or two.

So yes. We've got injuries. And yes, City are ahead in the race for 4th. And yes, most gooners I know have gone from saying they'd be happy with a point to now telling us they will win with ease. All because we lost to Portsmouth. Enough of the sound-bites.

It's a North London derby. Selection headaches, positions, aspirations. All irrelevant for the occasion at hand.

It should be nothing more or less than the most important 90 minutes of any season. Blood, thunder, drive and spirit. And tenfold passion. How else can you possibly match the noise in the ground? If that can't elevate you then nothing can. And yes, bite me, I'm a football romantic, but to me these games should be defined by guile and tenacity of the players out on the pitch. And not because XXX is out injured watching from the sidelines.

To dare is to f*cking do, so just f*cking get on with it and do it.

COYS.

Living with the Enemy (and Bruce Springsteen)

by guest-blogger Tricky

The thing about North Londoners is that there are two sides to the extended ‘family’, the ‘forces of good’ and those from the ‘forces of evil’.

There are many amongst us who have families with representatives from both sides. Call it a ‘quirk of genetics’, ‘rebellion against the good’, ‘the black sheep of the family’ or just plain ‘getting it so horribly wrong’. There are those for whom ‘never red’ derives more literary connotations than anything else.

I have bona fide relatives who come from both sides of the track, and so for many years have learnt how to deal with conversing with the ‘forces of evil’. Additionally, work, and life in general, has also has led to my meeting many more ‘gooners’, some of who appear on the surface to be thoroughly decent chaps, and dare I say it, some I even get on well with and like as people outside of football.

But all that means nothing at least twice a year when the finely honed the ability to deal with them in a manner that allows, at the very least, moral higher ground rears its head. When ‘bragging rights’ and other such choice phrases start being banded about by the media hacks in a pre-emptive stylee.

The thing is, with all the arguments and counters from both sides that our aspirations would have us join them (or preferably replace them) at the top of the footballing elite in the seemingly mythical ‘top4’, the ephemeral ‘goose that laid the golden football’.

But a word of caution, perhaps we should be careful what we wish for, as we all wish to see success at our beloved WHL, but at what price?

The thing that I have learnt the most from decades of banter is that both sides see their frailties, but it is only the white side that are sufficiently open enough to acknowledge it to others. The red side are more blissful in their belligerence and denial.

And to be fair, it’s not their fault that they have believed every press statement from their club, and more specifically their manager.

And it’s not their fault that the timing of the stadium rebuild and the costs were to go silk glove in sweaty hand with the deepest recession for many decades, and so it’s understandable that the squad are not the ‘tour de force’ they used to be 5 years ago. And Ok they never really replaced Patrick Vieira, mostly due to financial constraints and this ‘grand plan’.

And so what if their stadium has hampered their ability to compete with players wages and transfer fees with the real top clubs in the last few years, and who cares if all it has done is attracted plastic fans who are no more loyal to the Brand of ‘Goon FC’ than they are to ‘Ted Baker’. And so what If the atmosphere at the library was non-existent, then the Effeminates has more ‘corporate ’ who arrive just in time for their amuse bouches and entrees rather than to join in with the singing a song of support for their boys in red (and I use the term ‘boys’ quite deliberately here’).

And let’s be honest, when it comes to what the usual noise levels are like, please don’t ask a spurs fan (after all he’ll more than likely be biased) just ask ‘The Boss’ himself, who had to introduce additional soundproofing to put a gig on at the effeminates. Clearly noise pollution hasn’t been a problem before now.

                              The Boss: What do you mean I’m too noisy for you?

But it is worth noting that not all goon fans are that trusting of the powers that be, in the main they bitch amongst themselves, with the fans sitting it one of two camps, the ‘AKB’ or (‘Arsene knows best’) and ‘the real world’.

Spotting an AKB is quite easy, usually you can approach them from the side as the blinkers will prevent them from seeing anything that isn’t presented to them.

In fact approaching them from straight ahead is also easy if they will be sporting the latest pair of 'deludavision Dennis Bergkamp 2010 edition denial sensitive sunglasses'. 

Please bear in mind that an AKB will also not see the most obvious flaw in their manager, his deliberately obtuse and condescending attitude which keeps coming back to slap him in the face. Or at least it would if any hack has the balls to point out that he is a living breathing contradiction at times.

This can be most exemplified by his persistent whinging, take the it’s not fair we have to play against a team who has had a break midweek, when other (top4) teams are all playing someone who have played a midweek game earlier this season.

Do we now see Fergie and Ancellotti moaning about how unfair the schedule is as the goons now have to play a team that will be tired from an FA Cup semi only three days before? Do we hear it yet? No? Why not? Because it’s all part of the game, and playing fixtures over the course of a season you whinging pasty faced turd.

The main issue the goon fans seem to have is this; they cannot see that their greatest strength (their manager) is in fact also their Achilles Heel.

Each manager has his limitations and the fact is that Whinger over the years has turned into his own parody, an AKB will not only not see this (ironic, huh?) but will refuse to accept it even from a non-AKB goon supporter trying to make sure that not all of his fellow fans appear to be the sort of pizza faced belligerent window licker who tragically is probably now eligible to vote. This two-facedness by their manager has been shown on many an occasion.

(It is perhaps both ironic and unfortunate that in their collective failing they have shown that Spurs fans greatest asset is their ability to see, and point out on a regular basis, the problems of successive managers, without considering the value of ‘stability’).

This of course does not mean that those Goons who sit in ‘the real world’ aren’t in denial about their teams failings, far from it. Rose-tintedness can exhibit itself at any time during any given conversation.

The “We’re not a team of divers” debate for example – one of my favourites, and perhaps even more so, given the aforementioned propensity for generally contradictory statements by their Alzheimer riddled manager. When in 2006 Whinger suggested that players who dived should be banned little did he know that only three years later when playing Celtic, a certain Mr Eduardo would perform a dive that not only was blatant but registered 5.9’s from three European judges clinching him the bronze medal position. Subsequently he would describe the banning of one of his players who blatantly dived as a ‘witch hunt’.

Still, it has been said before and probably not for the last time, 'life’s not without its sense of irony sometimes’, the potential for rhyming slang with his choice of words alone is worth noting.

And so to round up this rambling there are a few more points worth remembering, should they be raised in some banter in the next 24 hours:

• The 2005 cup final, goons undeserved victors by playing 120 minutes of anti-football
• Theo Walcott / Wingnutt / Walnutt – he is to the goons what Jenas is to our team
• Whinger = Wengker = Myopic cheese eating surrender monkey
• Theirry Henry – works on a number of levels especially when in an Irish pub
• The fact that the ‘kids’ in the ‘cup team’ is now the biggest fallacy in the EPL today. Unfortunately a myth still perpetuated by the media, who have conveniently failed to notice that it is not what it was over 5 years ago when they were winning other stuff, it has now graduated into being ‘kids blended with experience’ or some other crass title that basically means ‘1^st team with a few rested and a couple of youth team members thrown in’ or more than likely ‘a balance of 1^st team starting and second choice members’  
• 5-1 in the Carling Cup; Fabianski, Sagna, Justin Hoyte, Gallas, Traore (Eduardo 65), Hleb, Denilson (Fabregas 18), Silva, Diaby, Walcott (Adebayor 65), Bendtner. Bet you don’t recognise any of their ‘yoof’ from that day a couple of years back, see above
• Carling Cup winners 2008, more recent silverware of note: FACT. (and if they say ‘its not real cup’, ask them if they would be saying cup double had they actually won both domestic cup, or would they just call themselves FA Cup winners, or maybe that doesn’t count either in their weird world)

            When is a cup not a cup? When it’s a domestic cup (according to some that is)

You see the single thing that IS entirely their own fault, is in believing the hype (something of course that we could never be accused of, clearly). After all to have the bitterness of defeat and disappointment you have to have tasted victory.

And when not winning anything, but financial stability is the end goal of the club, as I said earlier, 'perhaps we should all be careful what we wish for', as hollows victories are exactly that.

I shall leave all 'battle cries' to spooky, safe in the knowledge that sooner or later our time, as inevitably one day it will, will come. Maybe not this year, maybe not in my lifetime, but everything goes in cycles, sooner or later.

After all, that's why we have kids. Isn't it?

Remembering '91 and all that schoolboys own stuff

1991. April 14th. Wembley.

Not the type of game you'll ever forget, more so if you lived and breathed the entirety of that day. Even if it was 19 years ago, I still remember my journey to the Twin Towers via Walthamstow (my not so posh residence at the time). I remember how ominous the build up to the game was. Before that day nobody really gave us a chance. Not underplaying that in any way. Gascoigne's fitness was questionable and leading up to the semi-final most believed he wouldn't make it having played an hour or so of football in around 4-5 weeks prior to the semi-final. Gazza was imperative to us and had arguably inspired our cup run with some majestic performances. But just how fit was he to play a key part?

Arsenal were favourites, a side that hardly conceded and hardly lost (one game in fact), running away with the title - the double in their sights. Their cup final song already recorded, was the whisper which was not true sadly but it was a wonderful urban legend at the time in an age where In The Know's converged in pubs and not internet message boards. Such was the expectancy that they would brush us aside.

At the NLD earlier that season, I stood in the East Stand lower in the corner near the away end and remember the scum waving sterling at us, lapping up the misery of our financial leprosy. Game finished 0-0, and if I recall correctly, Gascoigne came close to scoring. An own goal.

Our money problems at the time deemed the semi-final one where a miracle was required. Winning the FA Cup was perceived by many as the only way to save the club. If ever there was a do or die game, this was it.

My journey in however was not one of nerves and fear. There seemed to be an air of understated confidence. Belief. Okay, so everyone who went to the game will probably have a different story to tell. Mine is simply that the singing and the bravado was all Lilywhite. It was a proper 'fuck it, what will be will be' attitude that had our lot smiling and singing. The gooners were far more subdued, tentative. More to lose perhaps? In their eyes, no doubt. In our eyes it was far far more vital to win the derby and the day.

"If we lose, I'll hang myself from a tree on the Seven Sisters Road" - joked one Arsenal fan on the tube to his mates, not a residue of humour to be found in his stern words.

"There once was a donkey named Adams, who played for Arsenal FC, they feed him on nothing but carrots, hee-haw hee-haw hee-haw-ee…" - sang one very drunk Spurs supporter, holding a massive massive can of beer (monstrous sized can) wrapped in a brown paper bag whilst other fans looked on. Some laughing, others giving daggers.

At the stadium, I was standing there hurling verbals towards the Arsenal coach that slowly drove through the crowd as the Arsenal players looked out of the windows smiling and waving. Me and several hundred other fans. All in good jest. Rude not to say hello.

Sitting high in the upper regions of the stand opposite the end we attacked in the first half, for the first time that day I began to brick it. This was it. Boring boring Arsenal against a team that lined-up up with Vinny Samways in midfield. Oh, and that Geordie who wasn't too shabby with his feet. This surely would be the most nerve-wrecking inducing game of football ever played, one that would shatter heartbeats leaving me gagging for air. The pressure tenfold. There is no possible way such a game can be enjoyed. No more understated confidence.

What followed was schoolboys own stuff. Fantasy football. The type of high impact tempo that must have played out in all our dreams the night before. What did I say about no way this game could be enjoyed?

The free-kick. That free-kick. The delirium was ridiculous. Before we had time to recover and pull ourselves down from the heavens, it was 2-0. This was now borderline orgasmic. Lineker with the second. Five minutes separating his poke from Gazza's 30-yarder. Arsenal pulling a goal back just before the break. We had them rattled but in no way was this done and dusted. Not yet. And conceding a goal just before half-time left us in a far less comfortable position than a 2-0.

Samways (yes Samways) alongside Gascoigne were both in wonderful form, and Howells (also just returned from injury) was having a good one along with one of the true heroes of '91, Steve Sedgley. There was some proper fully-charged effort, spirit and passion out there.

But the goons were not about to give up and got themselves back into the possession stakes in the second half. Gazza went off, replaced by Nayim, after and hour or so - shattered, but his work done.

Next goal, Spurs or Arsenal, match defining.

78 minutes. Samways combo with Mabbs, releasing Lineker who's shot squeezed itself through David Seaman's hands. 3-1. More delirium. To be relived countless times later in the evening on VHS with additional praise for Barry Davies and his timeless commentary.

Journey home was akin to a musical with a cast of thousands, singing and dancing in the streets and the trains back towards the north of London. No double for Arsenal. A life-line for Spurs. And an 8th FA Cup in memorable final.

I remember a chant of 'You've lost that double feeling…' to which one Arsenal fan screamed back abuse about us going broke. Not quite. Thanks to the victory over Forest. And Venables. Although what was to follow in the years to come dragged us backwards rather than forwards, stagnating whilst our enemy pushed forwards with an astute appointment and Sky Sports birthing the rise and rise of the monopoly.

But regardless, these types of days out are  forever written into history. A game of biblical significance and importance. One that won't be forgotten.

This Sunday, another cup semi at Wembley. Pompey the team in financial trouble, the ones seeking a miracle. Us, the overwhelming favourites. Not that I'm comparing this semi with that one back in '91. But let's not take anything for granted.

And following the Cup match, we've got Arsenal in the NLD at the Lane. On the 14th. Of April.

Uncanny.

COYS.