Spurs. Marching on together. Whoop.

Now that's more like it. Decent cup tie, plenty of chances created. Never really in doubt was it? There was no ominous 'here we go agains' even when Leeds pegged us back. You just felt that the tempo and effort from our lads was always going to cause the home side problems. It took two games, but Premier quality won through in the end.

Bentley continued his sparkling good form. Not keen on the hobo face scruff and although he does look ill there's no doubt that his form is currently sick (see what I did there? honestly, someone should pay me to blog). As long as he continues to keep his feet on the ground and not develop another vanity daze that always seems to eat away at any hope of prolonged consistency. Start to worry the moment he starts to highlight his hair. I'm liking the fact that he's continuing to take the chance he's been presented with. Good work fella. We all know he'll lose his place when Azza is back. But it's good to have competition. Not that it's competition in the strictest sense. Lennon is untouchable.

Defoe re-discovering his goal scoring touch was also a joy. Loved how he added spin on his first (he meant it) and his touch to score the second from an unplayable (from a defensive point of view) Bentley cross was equally impressive. His third was no doubt harsh on plucky Leeds and their fans but to be fair, it was tinged with 'back in your box' qualities that were much required, if anything to end the constant pro-giant killing requirements that ITV are utterly utterly obsessed with. Thought Crouch did a decent enough job in aiding JD. Missed a sitter (of sorts). It's not exactly the most exhilarating partnership with regards to subtle layers of inventiveness, but it's productive.

Apart from an exceptional 10 minute spell from Leeds at the end of the first half (having gone 1-0 up), it was comfortable. Special mention to that reaction though. They had a right old ding dong go at us and even though the goal was debatable - it was probably deserved for the sheer effort leading up to it. Only positive from conceding was that it left no room for further complacency come the second half.

On the subject of the goal, it's debatable depending on how you wish to interpret the phase of play that led to the equaliser. Leeds players all offside, but alas not when the ball reaches Becchio. He's now onside, even though there was arguable interference seconds earlier. Confused? I flipping hope so. I'm still trying to figure out how Defoe's goal at Anfield never stood.

Which we dominated in both chances and possession where the difference in quality was more than evident by the final whistle. Leeds didn't do enough. Our lot did everything right. Chuffed that the players gave the occasion the focus and determination it needed. It's the FA Cup, it should matter. Year might not end in 1. There's still a 1 in there. Bolton away next, more of the same please.

Positives: Bale (see what confidence can do for you?) and Bentley (2 assists and a couple of moments where I'm certain I witnessed him going past a player) were impressive, Defoe clinical. ITV duly gutted. Did love how when we took the lead, the second thing out of the commentators mouth was about whether Leeds could fight back. Dry them mate.

Goodbye Leeds. We might never meet again (hopefully).

Bread and butter next with Villa at the Lane, which is just as important for altogether different reasons. More so in the eyes of many. It's another cup game. In the league. Lose this and the feeling of deflation will no doubt sting. Win it, and there's an opportunity to use it as a springboard.

Onwards.

COYS.

Rome wasn't built in a day

Dear Mr Levy,

Rome wasn't built in a day. But then again Rome wasn't built with plasticine. It seems that’s the main building block used by our centurions as they attempt to fathom the foundations for a brave new empire. Our putty like team of very small creatures is becoming stop-motion when it should be morphing and leaving all the goobledygook behind. It's the cause of missed heart beats. Are you as nervous as I am? You should be.

The last thing we want is for us to lose our grip on this very precious chance we've been given. You know exactly what I'm talking about. This season, nobody wants to do consistency. But at some point, someone, possibly more than one club will hit form. And if we're left behind then we'll be face palming well into the summer months at another lost opportunity. We don’t have to be great, we just have to be good. A little better than good will do just fine.

New stadium? Grand. Lovely. But that’s years away. And we've still got to get planning permission for it. And I can't be staring at photos of the proposed structure for the next half a decade whilst others travel around Europe visiting already built and populated stadia in the Champions League. Applause for all the sterling work off the pitch, with the business side of the club. I'm not naïve, I know that in this day and age the finances have to be strong in order for us to be able to spend £15M a pop on the latest player of the moment. Everything is primed and in place. It always has been. But that cutting edge in both decision making on a managerial level and on a chairman level has been left wanting. Leaving us with no cutting edge where it matters most - on the pitch.

You say, in a round-about-way that there is no money to spend on players. Meaning to sign someone we need to sell someone. Harry then comes out and suggests that all the proposed outgoing players according to the press are not actually going anywhere. And in the midst of all this we are meant to be signing Sandro. That's the Brazilian defensive midfielder, not Harry's better half. Classic word play there.

Obviously, what is said publicly is never a true reflection of what is going on behind the scenes, and that should be the case. No need to be in the know until the press conference. How we get there does not matter, as long as we do. As long as the conclusion is identical to the one the majority are hoping for. And in this case, the majority want to see certain players gone and brand spanking new ones arrive. You might believe that consistency regarding players is the way forward, but if some players are not capable of that, then consistency will never be forthcoming.

Recent results have highlighted that the team under Harry requires a bit of tweaking. By tweaking I mean gutting and by a bit I mean the same amount Jack the Ripper ripped out of his victims.

Harry has a monumental job in attempting to reshape a culture of comfort that exists deep in the psychosis of the club, no matter the players, staff or coach. The same niggling reoccurring issue of mental strength arises. Perhaps it’s our transfer policy and the ilk of players we traditionally bring here that are of a certain criteria that is only good enough for a mid-table to a rare 5th place position. Any player with true hunger for genuine success, looks elsewhere and we become a stepping stone for those who truly believe they can achieve more. Rather than those who don’t quite grasp the moment and remain content, chasing shadows on the field of play and women in bars.

Carrick moves on striding forwards with confidence. Jenas stays, picking his nose and chasing butterflies.

As a collective we constraint the entity that is Tottenham, eleven players, lacking a sustained balance to shift up a gear to the next level. From one generation to the next. It has to end. And doing it slowly slowly leaves no potential for a conveyor belt of club shop dvd releases. Score-draws are so yesterdays news darling. We want more. Much more. And we want it now.

It's time to throw more money at the problem at hand. It's the only way to fix it. No time for patience. No time to wait for the players to learn from their mistakes and grow together. They have taken us as far as they can. Harry (when he arrived) rid the club of the cloud of depression, got the players working as a unit, got us strong and capable away from home and lifted belief. But these blips we are experiencing are ones that are becoming detrimental to our immediate ambitions. It's because some of the players are punching above their weight and failing to land any shots.

The responsibility is split between yourself, the coach and the players. But one cannot move to resolve it unless the other two aid its attempt.

The blips need removing. Show Harry the money. Let Harry make the changes to the team and that will allow the team to turn from plasticine into something more quantifiable. Like Lego. You can build cool stuff with Lego. Like the Millennium Falcon. Plasticine doesn't do hyperdrive. And let's face it, Han Solo or Lando Calrissian sitting on top of a ball of clay in the midst of the Galactic Civil War is never going to be a cool or productive sight to behold. And remaining on this literal space kick...

Robbie Keane is playing football out of phase, like that episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where Geordi La Forge's quantum state is out of sync with normal matter, leaving him invisible to all around him. Unable to influence anything or anyone around him. If I remember correctly, it was thanks to a transporter accident. Something that is quite possibly the reason behind Robbie's demise since his road trip north went south. He can't even be arsed to wave his hands around and shout anymore. That's the damage Rafa inflicted on this once crowd favourite. The player that made Berbatov look great.

Crouch isn't scoring the goals - proving that tall players are only good for hoofing the ball up to their head, and as he's useless with his head, he doesn't really do enough with his feet to warrant a place alongside Defoe. Honestly, that thing he does with his feet. You know, the controlling of the ball? Don't shout it out but I swear I've seen normally sized players do the same. Ssh.

And as for Defoe, over-rated. Scores five against Wigan then misses a penalty against Everton and does nothing against Wolves. That's all the evidence I need. He's due another loan spell.

Pavlyuchenko? I can't actually remember the last time I saw him play. Does he still wonder the aisles in the Tescos over in Waltham Abbey looking to pick up cheap dvd players with the aid of his interpreter? Can you perhaps email Comolli and ask him to forward the youtube link that he based his decision to sign him on? Perhaps we can sue the Frenchman for industrial sabotage.

The midfield requires more weight. And I'm not talking about feeding Huddlestone extra cheeseburgers. There is no leader, no one to scream and shout at the players. It's a fundamental basic ingredient. And it's missing. Talking of which, your poster boy Jenas is still knocking around. Doing what exactly remains a mystery. But there he is. There. Just standing, watching, as the world passes him by. Young English player with bonus sell-on value. So when the fuck do you ever plan on selling him then? HIS VALUE IS DECREASING WITH EACH SUNSET MATE.

And as for Hutton. Allow me to make a suggestion here based on what I know from experience. He was signed from Rangers. That's it. No more questions your honour, no more questions. Players that look good up in Scotland will probably be passable at a Championship side down south. I guess if the club spends £8M on Dean Richards, then £8M on Alan Hutton is a given. You know, cause we don't want to appear to be racialists.

Gio. Mexican. Likes to party. Doesn’t like to train. Played for Barcelona. He's going to be a mega star. He just needs time. More time. And protection. Just like Adel out on loan to QPR. Both world beaters. You just wait and see. Just wait. They can dribble, the lads. Get 'em playing for us. Recall Adel. Play Gio. I'm telling you, it's…okay, this one, it's going nowhere fast.

Even the good ones are struggling. Take Wilson Palacios who has gone from beast to Gruffalo. He has lost the tenacity and discipline to own the space between defence and the oppositions midfield. Like a key lost behind the sofa, he's busy looking for it in the kitchen. Its behind the sofa! The sofa, Wilson, the sofa! He just needs to refocus. Thankfully, that might happen with the aid of a little Croatian by the name of Luka. Small enough to fit his skinny arms and reach out for the missing key. But we cannot place all hope on his petite shoulders.

The back four changes it's line-up more times than Danielle Lloyd changes…ah, nah, I'm not going to go there. Way too easy. I'll be the first not to.

And don't even dare get me started on David Bentley. You know Dave, right? He's the one making mischief with the star jumping and the skip shooting. You can't miss him. He's wearing a wolf costume. And as punishment, Harry sends him to bed without his supper. And in his room a mysterious wild forest and sea grows out of his imagination and he sets sail to the Land of the Beck Things. These are smouldering good looking sexy creatures that Dave conquers by staring into their beautiful green eyes without blinking once and is made the King of all Beck Things. And he dances around with them in a not so but quite possibly metrosexual way and has much fun and then finds himself lonely and homesick so he returns to find that although his supper was left waiting for him, it was now gone. Yep. No hot supper. No, it wasn't Tommy. Not this time. It was patience. Patience ate his supper, his last supper. And as far as I'm concerned he can go back to his imagination land with his showboats and row z free-kicks if it means selling him to any mug willing to take him off our hands.

The problems we have, they are obvious ones. Do not allow complacency to ruin it. Remove the dead parts. Replace them. And then work with the improved group to further improve their state of mind. Your job is to make sure that Harry has the support to birth consistency before we lose our way completely.

All this is quite possibly in hand already. So I guess this just serves as a reminder of what I'm expecting. Because you know, us fans know exactly how a football club and team should be run more than anyone. Take note and get back to me at the end of January.

Regards,

Spooky

A Guide to Knee-jerking

A Guide to Knee-jerking

Hello. Welcome to my Guide to Knee-Jerking, presented by my good self, Gareth Bale. As you know I play left-back and sometimes cameo in the left midfield position. I have beautiful hair, conditioned and shampooed every day and a cheeky Welsh smile as wide as the valleys back home. There's been plenty of confusion recently with regards to the form of my team, Tottenham, and our progress as we mount a Top 4 challenge, so to help you along, here's something I prepared so you can avoid confusion at the final whistle of games and be cool with your mates and impress them with your unbiased and insightful opinions on Spurs. Enjoy.

If we win well, then it’s a sure sign of certain progression and the 90 minutes in question stands as a true testament of our season ahead.

Lose, and the same logic applies in reverse, deeming us simply not good enough. Feel free to jump from one bandwagon to the next on a fortnightly basis dismissing your prior standpoint.

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It's perfectly fine for a player to sit at the top of the goal-scoring charts and be worshipped with much acclaim after a 5 goal haul, but remember - if he misses a few chances or perhaps even a penalty, it's unquestionable evidence that he's over-rated and one dimensional. I mean come on, five against Wigan? If we had Rasiak up front in that game, even he would have scored. Probably. Might have. Okay, maybe Rasiak isn't the best example there. Nico Claesen would have bagged six.

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Substitutions made by Harry Redknapp should only be cited if:

A) He doesn't make any substitutions, which is proof he has not got a clue how to change a game
B) He makes a sub and nothing in the game changes (meaning he made the wrong sub)
C) He makes a sub, but in hindsight, not at the right moment in the game, meaning he made the wrong sub
D) He makes a sub and we still lose, meaning he's responsible for the defeat
E) He makes a sub and that sub has a positive impact - the player gets the credit

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If Robbie Keane plays but doesn't score it's because he was otherwise engaged with all the hard work and running into deep positions to aid the teams structure with connecting the midfield with the attack and if he did not do this under-rated work, the side would not function properly. This is bollocks. Do not be fooled by this blatant propaganda. Running up and down the pitch doesn't constitute productive play. If he does not score, he has done nothing to warrant his place in the side. If he scores, he didn't mean it. I'm only joking Robbie. Everyone knows he was the one that made Berbatov look good.

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If Ledley King has an off-game, it's all the proof you need that he's finished and it's time for him to retire.

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Playing scrappy, with various players lacking decent form, but still managing to scrap a fortunate win is the true sign of resilience and mental strength.

Playing scrappy, with various players lacking decent form, but unluckily failing to scrap a fortunate win is the true sign that we're a team without resilience and mental strength.

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Huddlestone. Just have a dig at him so you're not left out of conversations. Make sure you get in the one about the QE2 and turning around slowly and your mates will be buying you drinks for the rest of the night. However, if he's scored one of those blistering volleys, he's top drawer and who needs mobility when you can score from distance, right?

If you're not a fan of his passing, it's because his passing range is nothing more than disguised long hoofing balls forward.

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Peter Crouch. It's totally his fault that most of the balls played up to him are high and in the air. He's tall ffs. What does he expect? Ball to feet? God created him like that for a reason, so stop confusing matters with your tidy quick feet Peter and try and head the ball for once rather than give away yet another free-kick.

Rubbish, just rubbish. 

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Young players. If they don't play well or look out of sorts, get on their back! It's a common misconception, but the more you sigh and groan and slate them, the more chance they have of improving. Look at me. I'm improving all the time, even defeated my jinx recently and it's all because people keep saying that I should go out on loan or be sold to Birmingham.

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Top 4 is a possibility but only when we win games, not when we drop points. The more points dropped the less likely we are to make the Champions League. It's obvious, no? However, if the clubs considered our rivals drop points, its because they are suffering a slight dip in their projected form, and that form is evident when they win a single game - proving they have far more than us to sustain a challenge.



Next week: David Bentley goes in search for the dodo, "It's out there. I know it is".

How do you solve the conundrum of David Bentley?

Where do we even start on this one? Let's go back to the beginning.

There is no shadow of a doubt that at the time David Bentley fitted into the Tottenham criteria as a big-money summer signing.

Player of the moment
Much hyped
England International
Poster boy

With Robbie Keane leaving for Liverpool, we knee-jerked (as we've always done) and spunked £15M on a player that arguably was signed to fill a gap. Just not the one out on the left side. The reason we are perpetual pretenders and usually perpetual perpetual pretenders is because we have a track record of signing superfluous (I love that word) players who are more style than substance. They look the part but don't offer enough strength or intent and in this particular case did not complement what we already had. He simply wasn't needed from the perspective of logic. But then when have we ever done logic? We did once upon a time, but thanks to our revenue, we have always been able to sign the player people expect us to sign rather than the player we desperately need. Although things have changed post-Director of Football.

So, in he came. To his boyhood club. Ex-gooner? We can forgive and forget for that minor indiscretion. But it's here the conundrum begins. He's signed for 15 big ones when he's probably only really worth half of that. He's all smiles, star-jumping, loving it at Spurs, well up for the season. We thrash Roma (I told everyone at the time to keep their panties on, but most wouldn't listen) and he stars. Pre-season is a blast and as far as he's concerned he's the new Beckham in the making. Which is where the conundrum begins to eat away at him.

Bentley, for all the glam and show-boating off the field is a fragile almost glass structure of a man in reality. Easily broken. And it didn’t take long for him to smash into thousands of pieces. Mainly thanks to two points from eight games. Ramos out. Harry in. His form was all over the shop. And Lennon's re-birth was under way. That's Lennon - signed for £1M. That's Lennon, yoof investment that plays on the right-wing. See that Spurs logic? Two right-wingers, neither can truly play on the opposite wing or anywhere else effectively (although Lennon through the middle has worked on occasions) so if one plays, the other won't ever get a look in. There's no scope for mixing it up.

We had that goal in the 4-4 but it failed to disguise the obvious. Bentley was a man playing football from memory of how football should be played if you wanted to be seen as the new Becks. Everything was a show-boat or flick or attempted bullet-turning-corners-in-the-air pass. Nothing was basic. Nothing was simple. His form continued to degrade. With Azza tearing it up, there was no reason to even consider Bentley for the right wing. Yet he still found time to kick balls off roofs into skips.

At this point, possibly, not sure - it might have always been there but only manifested because of the pressure of football…David cited 'personal problems' for his lack of form. Are these problems because of his form or is there something outside of football bringing him down? Not our business tbh, I'm not going to speculate. Either way, the club and people around him should support him. As for the fans, well, we are fickle lot. In some ways, we see footballers as commodities, representatives of our club and demand 100% because they're millionaires thanks to people like us and blah blah blah. But the moaning and groaning and the internet-slating was completely in full effect. As ever, because of the weight of expectation - everyone was losing patience. And David continued to lose all hope.

In the summer, we had an alleged interview which was apparently conducted without the player knowing he was being interviewed (nice under-hand tactics there by the reporter) which IMO would deem it completely void of importance as anyone can be mis-quoted in this cheap shot way. The suggestion was Bentley was looking for a move to Villa. And yet, he's still with us. Even after his car crash. A wake-up call apparently, that doesn't appear to have made a difference with his quality of football. And why should it? We don't even have a reserve team for him to play in. His quality remains distinctly average. Which is what you expect from a player who appears lost and without direction.

Not  playing games will do little to increase interest in him and his value will be nowhere near the £15M mark this time round if we are looking to sell him in Jan. He wasn't that bad against Utd the other night. Average yes, but not terrible. Just a disappointing, not helped by the fact that he had little to aim for when he crossed the ball in.

I'm not sure there's a way to solve this conundrum.  At the moment there are plenty of fans who still want him to succeed. Why would you not? He obviously has the talent to do so. But he's sadly the right player for the wrong team. If Lennon didn't exist, he might well be dominating the right-wing for us. There is no room for him at Spurs. He's a Lego brick sitting in amongst a jigsaw puzzle.

A move away would reignite him, for sure. It's the way football tends to work. He'll go somewhere and the pressure wont be as harsh and relentless and he'll re-discover his spark.

It's time for goodbye. Just a quick hug. How do you solve this conundrum? You don't. You just hand it over to someone else and admit defeat.

The Comeback Kid

The young puggy looking lad started the day much like most other days. He broke a mirror in the bedroom and spent approximately ten minutes clearing up the glass. He then processed to have four shredded wheat in the hope this would give him super-strength. He then spent approximately two hours fixing his hair. This was a time consuming task, of much pleasure, acquiring an assortment of shampoo, conditioner, hairspray and gel. Once complete, a tracksuit is fitted on. Done and dusted. With at least 10 minutes to spare before being picked up by his best mate. Time to practice some skills outside until he arrives.

Using a ladder carefully placed by the side of the house the young lad dribbles the ball around it with sublime ease. It gets a little more tricky when his pet cat starts running across his path, with the lad having to dink the ball over the pesky fur-ball. The black feline always hisses in disagreement when the lad mis-times and kicks the ball into its slender elastic body.

Carpool time. The lads best mate is here. He always knows around 20 seconds before he pulls up outside in his car because his best mate loves to show-off a bit. He kicks the ball out of the sun-roof and it travels with pace, hitting the doorbell. Expert precision and casually effortless as you like.

Ding dong.

They hug and both agree today will be the day.

The old decrepit spinster opposite, peering from her window disagrees and holds tightly to the effigy in her hand. She curses to herself as she begins to look around for a needle.

When the two bestest friends arrive, the lad gets ready for what will be ninety career-defining minutes. But his best mate is glum. There is no place for him other than cheering on from the sidelines. He consoles himself by recreating a  happier moment, star-jumping at the entrance. Except its not quite the same without a camera zooming in on him. He wipes a single tear from his eye and kicks an empty can, hands in pockets, sighing.

90 minutes later. With a 3-2 score, it's all smiles for the puggy looking kid.

"We won", he spurts out gleefully.
"Great", says his subdued best mate.
"We won and I played the full ninety minutes"
"That's great mate. Look, can we drive about a bit. I heard there was some work being done on a house about a mile from here. Reckon they'll have a skip outside and I want to try this trick where I…"
"I played ninety minutes and I tasted victory"
"It was a friendly behind closed doors against Championship opposition. I doesn't count"
"I won"
"Gio even got a start"
"I won"
"It was QPR at the Lodge with a bunch of kids playing"
"I won"

The puggy kid was happy. If rainbows had endings, you'd find his smile there, positively beaming.

"The jinx. It's over. Life is good"

Elsewhere, the old decrepit spinster, arm stretched under the sofa, picks up a lost needle with her fingers.

"There you are my precious"

The Stupendous Adventures of Bale and Bentley

Episode IV

Gareth: Did we make the right choice signing up for this?
David: Of course we did. You can't be regretting it now.
Gareth: I just don't see how this is helping.
David: You'll getting plenty of rest in here and time to recover from your op. What's there to complain about?
Gareth: I know but it's bloody boring.
David: Look we both need to get ourselves back into the spotlight and this is the only way. I've tried everything but Harry keeps ignoring me. But now I've got the opportunity to really shine, show everyone what I can do. And my skills can not be denied. Harry will have to start me in the first team after this.
Gareth: You spend most of the time combing your hair in front of the mirrors. And there's no guarantee Harry will be watching and if he was I'm not sure he'll be overly impressed, you know.
David: Yeah, but I've been doing keepy-ups with the oranges, staying fit. And last night I lobbed one into the bin from about 10 yards at an angle. Bound to get on Sky Sports News with that.
Gareth: Sit down for Gods sake, everyone's staring at you again.
David: (breathing heavily) And ten, and eleven, and twelve…starjumps.
Gareth: Sit down, it’s about to be announced...

THIS IS BIG BROTHER. THE HOUSEMATES UP FOR EVICTION THIS WEEK ARE.....IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER.....GARETH.....AND.....DAVID.....

Gareth: It's because of all the hairs in the shower, isn't it?
David: It's because we haven’t won a single task you've been involved in.
Gareth: One of us is going on Friday. I knew it was a mistake signing up for this.
David: This is BS. I'm telling you, its Harry Redknapp. Must be. He's the secret housemate in a secret room and he's manipulated the nominations to get me out. He's trying to ruin me.
Gareth: Surely he'd want to keep you in the BB house? And stop talking into the camera, I'm over here.
David: Maybe it's a fake eviction and the person voted 'out' gets to go to Liverpool?
Gareth: You're not right in the head.
David: Thirteen and fourteen and fifteen and sixteen starjumps…
Gareth: Seriously, I'm going to the diary room. I want to leave. This place is what a lock-in at Faces would be like. It's insufferable and full of cu...
David: (speaking at the other housemates) I know why you all voted for me. It's because of the other night when I stripped and run naked around the garden. It is, isn't it? Well you lot are all two-faced. Remember I told you.
Gareth: David, shut up! Look, the diary room door…it's opening…someone's coming through!
David: Oh my God! It must be a new housemate! It's a new housemate!

Dramatic pause.

Gareth: Oh this isn't good.
David: You have got to be f*cking kidding me.
Aaron: Hi everyone.

The Stupendous Adventures of Bale and Bentley

Episode III

Gareth: Morning.
David: Morning.
Gareth: What you got there?
David: Dice.
Gareth: Dice?
David: It's part of my new life style. It's going to help me become the superstar I know I am.
Gareth: How so?
David: I roll a die and depending on the number it settles on, I do whatever's associated with the number.
Gareth: I don't get it.
David: Each side of the die has a number on it, right? Each number has an option that I give it so when its rolled and it settles on, I don't know, number four…I do whatever the option for number four is.
Gareth: How do you decide on the options?
David: They're predetermined. I have different options for the six sides of the die depending on the day of the week or where I am.
Gareth: So the die is keeper of your destiny?
David: That’s quite profound Gareth. And yes, that's exactly it. Gives me an edge if I force myself to do what the die tells me. It's like a constant test of nerve and challenge to help me excel.
Gareth: Cool. So what options have you got today?
David: Well, with training just finished, I've got some social options available to me.
Gareth: Neat. You gonna roll then?
David: Yes.
Gareth: What options you got?
David: Options are:

1. Do something different with my hair
2. Find a skip and kick a ball in it
3. Go home and wash my hair
4. Star-jump in front of anyone with a camera
5. Highlight my hair
6. Comb my hair

Gareth: Go on, roll it, roll it…
David: It's number five.
Gareth: Sweet.
David: I know.
Gareth: Do you have options for when you're playing football?
David: Yeah. I carry a die with me and roll it when I'm bending down to tie my boot laces.
Gareth: Where do you keep the die?
David: In my hair.
Gareth: Oh, so that's why you're always fixing it.
David: Clever, hey?
Gareth: Yeah. So what options you got for games?
David: I've got:

1. Hit ball cross field with outside of foot
2. Flick the ball or showboat no matter who is around you
3. Attempt to pass with Zidane quality to nearest man
4. Try to score, regardless of the angle
5. Bend it like Beckham
6. Try something that's not been attempted before on the field of play

Gareth: Wow.
David: I know. I'm just setting myself high standards so even in failure, I succeed.


Later that season…

Gareth: Hey.
David: Hey.
Gareth: You on the bench today?
David: Probably. You?
Gareth: Same.
David: I just can't put my finger on what went wrong.
Gareth: Same here. You still got the dice?
David: I got rid of them. Reckon they were cursed. Only managed to get on Soccer AM once.


In the gaffers office…

Kevin: Harry, I don't think you're doing this right.
Harry: Yes I am.
Kevin: What you writing down then?
Harry: Self promotional media friendly sound bites for press conferences and post-match interviews. All I need to do is roll the die beforehand and do as it tells me. Helps me mix it up a little if I let destiny guide me.
Kevin: What you got for number one?
Harry: I've got 'two points in eight games'.
Kevin: And for number two?
Harry: Two points, eight games.
Kevin: Three?
Harry Two points, eight games.
Kevin: They're all two points eight games aren't they?
Harry: Yes.
Kevin: Harry, you're meant to have different options for each side of the die.
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: What?
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: Why are you rolling the die now?
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: Ha ha, very funny.
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: Harry, you ok?
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: Stop rolling the die.
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: HARRY FOR GODS SAKE STOP ROLLING THE DIE. STOP IT.
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: STOP IT HARRY.
Harry: Two points eight games.
Kevin: JESUS MAN, GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY NECK.
Harry: Two points eight games...

Ep I

Ep II

The Stupendous Adventures of Bale and Bentley

Gareth: Hi David
David: Hi Gareth.
Gareth: Fancy a Starbucks?
David: Yeah, sure. Why not.

Later, in Starbucks…

David: Oh God.
Gareth: What?
David: Look, over there.
Gareth: Oh yeah. Well, I guess it's no surprise. They practically live here. We should go over and say hello.
David: Do we have to? Let's get our coffee and go. I've got an appointment at Toni and Guys in an hour.
Gareth: We can't just walk out. It's rude.
David: Why not?
Gareth: Well for a start, you starjumped through the front door.
David: I know. That was cool.
Gareth: Yes it was, but did you really need to smile at everyone and point at your teeth?
David: It's my thing. Don't take it away from me.
Gareth: Anyway, it's too late. They've seen us...
David: Oh ffs…they're waving.
Gareth: Just smile and wave back. Don't be so grumpy.
David: They're a bunch of losers. We're not going over there are we?
Gareth: Yes. Just to say a quick hello.
David: Ballbags.
Gareth: Hi Ricardo.
Ricardo: Hello.
David: Hey Gilberto, looking good man.
Gilberto: Mate-me agora.
David: Yeah, whatever you say dude.
Pascal: At any given moment, I open my eyes and exist. And before that, during all eternity, what was there? Nothing.
Gareth/David: Hi Pascal.
Gareth: What you guys up to today?
Gilberto: Sou assustado e quero ir para casa.
Gareth: Coolio. An Pascal, looking good man.
Pascal: When you are deluded and full of doubt, even a thousand books of scripture are not enough. When you have realised understanding, even one word is too much.
David: If only one word was enough.
Gareth: What about you Ricardo?
Rocha: I am listening to the Ting Tings.
Gilberto: Não tenho nenhuma idéia o que estou fazendo aqui.
David: Well it's been nice chatting to you boys. See you around.
Rocha: Até logo, as they say.
Pascal: There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon.
David: Text me yeah.
Gilberto: Para o amor do Deus, alguém por favor me ajude.
Gareth: Ha, ha…you crack me up Gilberto, with your teary eyed puppy dog expressions. Too much caffeine I reckon.
David: Ok, and on that bombshell, we are out of here.

Later on in the day…

Gareth: I'm knackered I am.
David: Yeah, me too.
Gareth: What we got planned for tomorrow?
David: Fly fishing.
Gareth: Nice one.


IN NEXT WEEKS EPISODE: Gareth meets his alternate self from a parallel universe where he has never been on the losing side. But when they come into contact with each other it results in a catastrophic rip in the space time continuum, leaving David with the impossible task of kicking a planet 45,000,000 light years into the gaping hole to save the universe from collapsing in on its self. Does he save the day? Will Rob Grant and Doug Naylor sue? Find out next week.


Episode one can be found here.

The Stupendous Adventures of Bale and Bentley

David: Alright Gareth.

Gareth: Alright David.

David: What you up too?

Gareth: Just combing my hair. You?

David: Push-ups. I combed my twice already this morning.

Gareth: Push-ups? Hair looks great by the way. What product you using?

David: The gaffer said I should concentrate on getting the basics right so I decided to give the star-jumps a rest. I’m using Quantum Sequence.

Gareth: How’s it working out?

David: Amazing. Weightless style, brings out the highlights and it’s got this zippy bounce when I run.

Gareth: No, not your hair. The push-ups.

David: I don’t know. Ok I guess.

Gareth: Sky Sports had you on yet?

David: No, not yet. Getting into camera shot when I’m practically laying on the floor…it’s tricky business.

Gareth: I can imagine.

David: So….

Gareth: So…

David: Anything planned for later?

Gareth: I’m seeing a witch doctor.

David: You need to stop going to Faces.

Gareth: I know. What about you? Anything planned?

David: I’m kicking a ball.

Gareth: From a roof into a skip?

David: No. Just kicking it. On the training field. Around the cones. Alone.

Gareth: Neat.

NEXT WEEK: Gareth and David feed a squirrel at the Lodge but disaster strikes when the little blighter chokes on a nut and David and the squirrel have to call emergency services.