Levy takes a pay-cut

Anyone read the Annual financial report Spurs released the other week (it's on the official site)? Go on, one of you must have printed it out and sat yourselves on the bog, reading glasses perched on nose and read through countless pages of number-crunching. No? You prefer the more rounded figures of Front magazine like me? Good on you. Thankfully there are people out there who don't bother with glossy soft-porn publications and prefer to study and then dig out the type of information that makes us lazy ones ooh when we hear it.

Our turnover made all the headlines along with confirmation of our spending, but we missed the bit about pay-cuts (at least I did) taken by Levy and the directors. A 32.5% cut. Millionaires with less millions and no big shout out about it. No shareholder dividend pay-out either this year. It's all on page 34 of the report (if your copy of Front is in too much of an abused state to turn the pages).

From £1M per year down to £650,000 in the space of three years.

The club make profit and our man at the helm takes a cut. How refreshing. Taking one for the team. Not that taking home 650K isn't too shabby wage. It would seem there's no room for ego's here. Greater good and all that jazz, ENIC are firmly putting their money where their mouth is - although the less bites taken into rotten apples (Bentley, Bent, Pav) the more of that turn-over we're left with. Hard times, bit future plans - the priority is the club and therefore the fans.

If Levy needs to make up some extra cash for Christmas shopping, I suggest he loads up a white van with the left over copies of The Opus (that's the ones left over from the batch used during the half-time raffle ticket give-aways from last season) and hits the high road on match-days. Get Harry in the back and he'll have the lot cleared out by 3pm kick-off.

"Opus, mint condition, £500. And this one, signed by Robbie Keane, you can have that one for £250"

Things to get you through a weekend without Tottenham

Does the International break bore you?

England are playing this weekend. Am I the only person who finds it all a bit of a bore when there are no Tottenham games to go to or watch on TV? Don't get me wrong, I'm as patriotic as the next fan...but only for qualifying games and tournaments (when we actually manage to get there).

Friendlies never get my juices flowing. If I can't shout, scream and generally have my emotions soar, dip and ripped apart then it's not really football. Something needs to be at risk. And I don't find pride is when its just a warm-up match. Even if it's in preparation for an important game (next Wednesday) against the Ukraine. Saturday's (against Slovakia) still a friendly. A glorified training session.

Yes I know, Aaron Lennon might play, and if he does well he might (just might) make an appearance next week. Although if you take a quick look at the Beckham feature article on the BBC site you'll note that he has every chance (Becks that is) of playing as Walcott and SWP are not in the squad.

Cough? Forgotten someone perhaps?

And with the debate about whether King should have or should not have been called up by Fabio dragging on and on (you honestly think 'arry isn't going to talk about it some more?), I can't help but look ahead to our next Prem game against Blackburn. Proper bread and butter football.

I don't have Setanta at home and the local pub that shows live games is usually full of West Ham fans who will no doubt be out in numbers carrying around replicas of the Jules Rimet and banging on about '66 and celebrating in the streets that they invented modern day football.

I'd rather avoid it all tbh. But will definitely make the effort for the Ukraine game. For sure.

So to get me through Saturday, I've devised a list of potential activities to help me avoid the overwhelming boredom that would otherwise consume me. Feel free to suggest your own.

1) Work out the points accumulated in the opening eight games under Ramos and then calculate the points accumulated by Harry Redknapp from the time of his appointment till the present day and based on Harry's points to games ratio, work out where we would be had he been manager at the start of the season. Then device a What If Premier League table that will have us within touching distance of a Champions League place and then work out whether we can claim 4th spot based on our remaining fixtures and who we would need to buy in the summer to help consolidate the challenge domestically and in Europe. Then post all my findings and analysis on a Tottenham message board and watch it grow to 100 pages in a day with around 3000 replies. Just for kicks.

2) Throw eggs at the home of the person who wears the current Chirpy mascot outfit at home games. WE DON'T LIKE YOU. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I want the original Chirpy back. The one that doesn't look he's possessed by a demon with a smug Adam Sandler complex.

3) Watch my Sky+ recording of the Arsenal v Spurs 4-4, replaying the final 10 minutes several times to catch the various reactions of the Spurs players and the fans - specifically at the point before and after Lennon equalizes. Then using my TV capture card, create a montage video of the glorious evening with Tina Turners 'Simply the Best' as the soundtrack. Then upload to Facebook and Youtube and then update Twitter every 5 minutes, linking to the video, and posting inane hilarity about how busy the London Underground was this morning and what I had for lunch.

4) Begin legal proceedings to sue West Ham United. The other day I had what I can only assume was a very dodgy lasagna which blatantly gave me the runs and a chronic gut. This resulted in a Vietnamesque flashback in a packed shopping centre - ala Sgt. Elias - falling to my knees, hands aloft, screaming in agony at the returning realisation of how close we came to a dream qualification into the elite of European football. A dream destroyed by a Benayoun top corner finish.

As nobody was ever charged or held accountable for poisoning the Spurs team, and as West Ham were the opposition that day and inflicted the defeat on a side ravaged by ill health, they remain the only ones responsible for my emotional upheaval that resurfaced in such an undignified and public way.

I'm after a reasonable pay-out. Equivalent to what Spurs lost in Champions League revenue. That should cover the trauma and rehabilitation.

5) Walk up to random strangers and state '2 points, 8 games'. The message must be spread to the non-believers.

6) Go round my parents for lunch and refuse to sit down on the sofa. If my dad manages to talk me into sitting down because I'm making everyone feel uncomfortable, I will do so. Then wait until he walks away, then stand up and burst into song: 'Stand up if you love mums cooking, stand up......'.

7) Travel up to Manchester, sneak into Dimitar Berbatov's back garden and then use my state-of-the-art tranquilizer gun to shoot all the squirrels in the vicinity. Who you gonna feed now, Berba? Hey? Who you gonna feed now?

8) Watch my Sky+ recording of the Spurs v Chelsea 1-0. Then using my TV capture card, create a montage video of Modric and his performance, to the music of 'Diamond Lights'. In addition, morph highlights of Moddle into highlights of Hoddle, subtly suggesting that Modric is the new King of the Lane. Then upload to Facebook and Youtube and then update Twitter every 5 minutes to make sure people are fully aware that I'm 'online', either sat in front of a pc or texting updates via my mobile phone.

9) Search through all Bit Torrent sites and Newsgroups for a soft copy version of the Tottenham Hotspur Opus. Come on! Surely someone must have scanned this and uploaded it to the internet? You can find practically anything on-line. Whether it's DC or Marvel comics, books, novels, screenplays, about a million PDF's and random user-guides, every piece of software, music, pornography and movie you can possibly imagine......but no bleeding Opus? Further proof that nobody has actually bought a copy, because if let's say 10 people purchased one, at least one of them would have shared this with the www. It's 2009 ffs. People don't even bother buying Playboy anymore, they just wait for some else to scan and upload it. So I'm told.

10) Stand near the living room window, and pretend I've got Setanta by booing every few minutes. People walking past will assume Ashley Cole is playing shit. And this will bring much joy to the world.

I blame the OPUS

How long has it been since the last Spurs/Titanic joke? Is it ok for me to make yet another reference? Hell, of course it is. If all the tabloids can photo-shop Ramos and Poyet's heads onto Di Caprio and Winslet then I can make cheap joke after cheap joke too.

See, if you think the starting eleven was the first thing at the club to hit rock bottom, then you've guessed wrong, because the £4000 Opus sank to the depths a fair while ago.

You remember the Opus, right? It's the book that can't be read without gloves. Its that huge heavy glossy thing that makes an appearance at half-time at the Lane every other week, along with a former 'legend' who marvels at the sheer volume of its content. You might have bought a £2 raffle ticket in the vein attempt to win it, because you forgot the four grand loose change you usually keep in your back pocket when visiting the Spurs shop.

The Opus. The Huddlestone of books. Have you ever seen it move? I'm going to hazard a guess and say they've given away more than they've managed to sell. Credit crunch and all, I can't even see the Merc driving West-Standers forking out their Sterling for this coffee-table-breaking monstrosity.

It's cursed. And its bloated. Testament to the Levy/Comolli partnership.

Got any spare change, guv?

The Opus. This titanic half metre of memorabilia ranges between £4000, £6000 and £10000, depending on whether you purchase the club, captains or legends edition (price relates to the varying degrees of signatures from current and retired players and edition number) – making up 1000 limited editions of Tottenham’s 125 year history. This isn’t your bog-standard coffee table book. Probably because if your table isn’t made of reinforced steel, it will collapse under the weight. Not exactly an item the average Spurs fan can afford either. So why Spurs continue to ram the hype down our throats at every given opportunity is anyone’s guess. Not shifting many Daniel?

The Opus. For the rich.

We had a couple of ex-players looking at the book at half-time in a recent game. Blatant publicity stunt, as the bloke with the mic salivated his way through a sales pitch informing the crowd countless times how magical and amazing and brilliant the book was. The ex-players were kitted out in special gloves to not dirty up the glossy pages as they commentated on the pics and churned out antidotes about Bill Nick. The fact I can’t remember which of our beloved legends were involved in this PR stunt tells you how little attention I was wasting on the scripted dramatics. £600 or so on a season ticket is my limit, with the special added-value extra of being able to burn it any given time without remorse.

£10,000 is a deposit on a flat or house. £6,000 is a very decent car and £4000 is a couple of nights with an escort girl and a few grams. Spending any of those totals on a book is sheer vanity. Where’s the re-sell value? How many times can you stare at black and white pictures of men in shorts and various arty shots of White Hart Lane and its Cockerel?

If you’re the type of fan who must have everything, because you can’t deal with living without, Spurs have a couple of payment plans available just for you. A ‘buy now and pay later’ option along with personal loan instalments. A sly way for you to get into debt with the club. Default on the payments and Levy will have you selling bagels for the next 10 years.

Glory only comes in black and white

Yes, there are some unique photographs and newspaper articles and pre-historic match-day programmes that you probably won’t find anywhere else in any other publication. And with all proceeds from sales going to the Tottenham Hotspur Foundation, the club probably forked out a lot of money for the privilege (and apparent honour) to have this book commissioned and produced.

The irony that the only people who can afford this without denting their wallet are the players themselves is lost on the club. Get rid of the boring half-time QVC segment and drop leaflets over the West Stand upper if you want to clear stock quickly.

This is almost as bad the Chirpy revamp.

One Hundred and Twenty Five

This coming Monday will be fascinating. Spurs at home to Aston Villa, and after this weekends batch of games we could be second from bottom – so you would expect that winning and collecting three points will be the main focus for everyone at the club. Instead, we will be treated to a celebration of 125 Glorious years (with around 90 years of mediocrity mixed in), which includes the match day programme setting you back £10. Another case of 'Spurs fans are mugs so let's charge them the earth'. If you've got a few grand spare (4k) in your back pocket then don't bother with this, get your hands on the Opus book instead. Fuck it, just send the deed to your house to Daniel Levy and be fucking done with it.

However, I like the idea of White Hart Lane being illuminated with lights and projections with additional searchlights beaming into the sky to herald our anniversary. The muggers on Tottenham high road will see profits dip momentarily with the lack of shadows where they usually work their magic.

There's more. The high road alongside WHL will include images of our legends (if Freund isn't up there I will be bitterly disappointed). Again, nice to be reminded that 46 years ago we were the dog’s bollocks. You know the sixties. Nineteen sixty one to be precise. Nicholson. Blanchflower. Mackay. Black and white tv's. Everyone shagging Jimmy Greaves wife. Football boots that weighed a ton. League title and FA Cup winners. In the same season. First time this century. Last century. 1900's. The double, you know. History. It's what this club is about. Winning it. When it mattered. Because back then football was salt of the earth. Meant more than it does now. Irrelevant that every other club we considered rivals have left us behind while we hug onto a distant memory. 1961. Bobby Smith and all that. Play those old skool tapes on the Jumbotron again with that emotional Star Wars music to really show the world what we're about. In your face, present day. Stick it up your arse.

There's more. The special commemorative flag which apparently will ‘help create a carnival party atmosphere in the stands’ must surely be Levy’s pièce de résistance, because no amount of flag waving will stop our calamity defence conceding goals while Villa dick us and our 125th celebrations turn into a complete farce. So unless there's a Martin O'Neil voodoo doll attached, this type of thing is better left to clubs who do it better, like Arsenal and their hymn sheets and their singing sections. Oh look how pretty the Lane is with all those colours......and, oh, 2-0 Villa....but look, look, I see a Holsten shirt on the Shelf Side and that bloke over there is wearing three scarf's, what a nutter!

Games like this have textbook egg-on-face potential. I would expect (and hope) that the desired effect is one of majestic inspiration. What a perfect occasion one would think, to help elevate ourselves from the bottom three and finally put in a Premiership performance we can be proud of. With Newcastle and Liverpool to follow (both away) – this game is almost do or die (with 0 points to follow from those next 2 games based on previous history).

‘Oh Spooky, why oh why are you so negative?’

I’m not being negative. I keep expecting the team to click into place but we seem to shut down more often than a Windows operating system. The anti-virus software can’t seem to quarantine the Levy trojan and with the hard drive decimated with bad sectors a re-format is on the cards.

Time to change to Linux?

If we lose against Aston Villa at home I will support Arsenal for one week. Yes. Arsenal.

This is not an act of Judasness. This is much like what Mahatma Gandhi did back in the day. This is the highest form of protest, one that surpasses boycotting the Spurs shop or burning a season ticket. I am doing the unimaginable to prove just how much I love the club.

This coming Monday will be fascinating.