MatchDay Frolics: Inter v Spurs

Time for another bout of alternative minute-by-minute comment based musings of the game. Live.

It's Inter versus Spurs.

It all stems from myself requiring in-game therapy by sharing my observations because I need to vent and also strike up a bromance or two with my fellow Spurs fans. Because if you're at home and not in the pub and on your own, then it helps to have others suffering along with you, be it electronically.

This minute-by-minute commentary is not as consistent in terms of structure as the Beeb's version and definitely not as witty and pun-driven as the Guardians. But a f**k load better than ITV's in-game audio commentary. Which, let's face it, isn't exactly the greatest brag in the world. Chiles and company are akin to listening to diarrhetic elephants emptying their bowels, so this blog will easily suffice as a superior companion to the game than the giddy nonsense churned out by the incompetent guardians of the tactic truck.

Point being, unlike the rest, it's all-Spurs.

Rather than update this blog article with dated-by-time comments, I'm going to use the magic of  curated Tweets. So if you follow me on Twitter, you'll see my inane statements of insight as the game progresses. Otherwise, just stay tuned to the below where the curated tweets will appear. I'll also throw in other words of wisdom from fellow Twitter based Spurs fans for additional ample scoffs of hilarity.

To be honest, this is all experimental and it might turn out to be far easier to just update a standard article. Or even easier for you to just sign up to Twitter and follow the direct tweets and get involved yourself.

If the embedded code falls over at any point, then I'll go back to just updating this article. The applet below should auto-refresh, if it doesn't, refresh browser to see new entries.

Inter v The Tottenham

COYS

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The Tweets of Heurelho Gomes

(translated into English)


Made toast. Dropped it. Butter side up. Made more toast. Dropped it. Butter side up. Made another round of toast. Dropped. Butter side up.

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There is a trend developing here. Perhaps I should not butter my toast.

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Cruz, my pet cat brushed my leg and I collapsed in agony. I cried.

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At training. Penalty practice has began. No one has scored. Yet to take up my position.

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Still training, jogging. Saw birds nest blow in wind, egg falling. About 20 feet away.

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Run towards falling egg, impossible to reach, dived, one arm out-reached, caught egg with finger tips.

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Gave egg to Spurs fan in tree with binoculars and asked him to return it to the nest.

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Brushed up against some stinging nettle. The pain was intense. I collapsed in agony. And cried.

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Left car keys in changing room. Daws throws them at me. I place my hands up to catch. I miss. Don't understand, my positioning was good.

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Back home. Knock on door. Spurs fan with his wife. Fourth one this week I'm allowed to sleep with. The wife. Not him.

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Alan Hansen on Match of the Day. I collapsed in agony. And cried.