Spurs finally 'sign' a big name striker

Antonio Michael Pedroza Whitham.

What? It's a big name, isn't it? There's four of them and they're bundled together. A mish mash of Mexican and English. For a snappy £1M (insert little finger to corner of mouth).

Done and dusted. Delegation sent over to thrash out the deal. Allegedly. All this according to the Daily Mirror who apparently first 'broke' the story two weeks back. It's obviously true, so kids, save up your money...it's gonna cost your piggy bank to get his name printed on your shirt.

Okay, don't go blaming me for this article, it's gone midnight and I'm only as good as the material I have to work with and considering the ITK community have spent the summer thus far reacting to the press and making sh*t up I'm waiting for one of their esteemed members to lay claim that they saw this one coming to restore my faith in...oh wait, I have no faith in them.

Of course, the alternative is that the Daily Mirror are talking nonsense and this Mexican forward with family based in Cheshire is not on his way to N17. If the Daily Mirror prove themselves to be on the ball then it will officially mean: Daily Mirror > ITK Community

0 goals, 12 games apparently. Oh well.

Wickham, Whitham...not that much of a difference there. Well, apart from several million pounds.

The summer transfer window just keeps on giving.

'North London is ours'

Three protests yesterday. One outside the gates, 'We are N17' with petitions outside the Bell and Hare pub and at half-time, a lady by the name of Helen inspiring one or two to sing a song. A girl after my own heart.

Didn't make the tv (that last one) but point made. She was ejected, expected, but not banned - which would not have made good PR had the club gone down that particular route.

If anyone has any more vids or photos, please share.

Saturday Afternoon Round-Up: Sky Andrews can do one

Hello. Muggy weather today. Muggy headlines too. The one that has probably caught your attention is the rather dramatic headlines suggesting Spurs might be docked points for shady transfer dealings. Daily Mirror and The Sun are amongst several covering the story.

The Saint Sky Andrew, the paragon of truth personified in the form of a football agent, has won a high court ruling in his favour to cite phone records for evidence to establish whether several key people (Levy, Storrie, Redknapp) were contacted at any stage in the midst of the transfer that took Defoe to Portsmouth.

For those who don’t know, Jermain had sacked Andrews and was without an agent. Mitchell Thomas (unlicensed) acted as an adviser with Stuart Peters (rep from Spurs) helping the transfer on.

Ok, someone’s going to have to explain a few things to me here because I’m a little confused. What does this have to do with Spurs potentially having points deducted?

Andrews is upset that he was cut out of the deal. Wrongly cut out. Surely this is an issue between Defoe and his former agent. If payments by either Spurs of Pompey were made to anyone (legally) then the most probable reason Andrew didn’t get a penny was because Defoe sacked him before the deal happened. Am I missing something here?

I can’t say I understand the logistics of these types of dealings between clubs, with player + ‘representatives’ in the middle. If the underlining argument here is that Thomas is unlicensed and played a bigger part than he’s legally allowed – I still don’t get why Spurs are liable. The player was leaving Spurs and signing for Portsmouth. He played for them and not us after the deal was concluded. Sorry, pointing out the obvious there, but it seems to have been ignored by the press coverage.

Only two words come to mind. Sour grapes. Andrew was cut out and thus missed out on a cut. What's wrong Sky? You spunked all the millions you made from the deal that took Campbell across to the cesspit?

If anyone understands the complexities, please share.

Elsewhere...

Blackburn have been linked to Ruud van Nistlerooy. Gone a bit quiet hasn’t it, our raid on Madrid? Our interest in Ruud has cooled, and I heard whispers a day or so ago that Klass-Jan Huntelaar is being looked at by United. At least we can now all rest easy with the news that Cisse is on his way to Panathinaikos. That alone is worthy of cracking open the champagne and hiring out an escort girl for at the very least, two hours. The news that Daniel Levy wants at least £18M for Darren Bent will spoil the party and have you rolling up your sleeve and tapping a vein.

Now I know that the transfer market has turned into a complete joke in recent times and we are just as guilty as one or two other clubs for paying out over inflated fees. We did it with Bent in the first place bringing him to the Lane for £16M. Then again, maybe we shouldn’t panic too much. Anything you read anywhere should be taken with a pinch of salt. I guess if Sunderland want £20M for Jones then Bent’s value is more near the £25M mark. In reality, £10M – £12M for Bent is more likely (he’ll score a bundle for a club that will accommodate him). Jones isn’t worth more than £6M and I pray Harry keeps well clear.

The alleged Huddlestone bids have been rejected, allegedly. I’m so glad we have clarity on that. Spurs are refusing to sell him. Using the ITK formula to create insight, this means either we are playing hard-ball and want more for him than the £8M offered or we rate him and simply won’t sell. Thank me later for setting that one straight.

Changed your mind on the yellow-flashed home shirt yet?

Over 2000 people have signed the petition. Club don’t care, and I guess neither do I as long as we do well on the pitch. But the point being made (by myself and the 2000) is that we dislike the yellow streaks. Its feedback being offered to the club, much like when they send us surveys by e-mail about what we might think about the idea of having Tarquin seats installed at the club. We are simply having a say.

Finally, we are in pole position for Bassong. He’s the ‘player to join Spurs’ player of the week. It's the second time he's been on the rotation. Tinged with irony this one. Mainly because he is yet another ‘player of the moment’ type of signing that we do so very very well with being linked with. And £15M is the bog-standard Levy approved offer that works like magic when we desperately want someone (Bentley the key example).

Only exception to the rule has been Palacios who has looked every bit a £14M player. Modric too. And Bassong did look tasty last season, but then again, so would I at the heart of Newcastle’s defence when surrounded by so many hopeless teammates.

There's only one Daniel Levy

Like fuck there is.

So ends the 2007 season. Martin Jol 'just' about avoids the sack with us nicking 5th spot. And he proceeds to thank his chairman by taking the mic at the end of the game and saluting the board for their continued unquestionable investment into the club. Technically, I suppose Martin is correct in doing so. £3 for a mobile phone ring-tone of the Park Lane or the Shelf Side singing is certainly a shrewd way of taking money off the fans to 'invest', along with the additional 'investments' they are pulling in via the increased season ticket prices (if you want to have the crowd singing as your ring-tone, record it on your mobile yourself for fucks sake).

Jol also arse-kissed the home fans by telling us we are the best in the country. We fucking know that already Martin. Jesus. We are so loud that when we're away the home team play white noise out of their tannoy system to drown out the Glory Glory Hallelujah's.

Anyway, I'll get back to Jol's thank you speech later. Lets take this from the top.

Home game, last of the season, against Manchester City. Going into this we could have quite easily dropped out of a UEFA Cup spot and into the Inter-Toto, depending also on other results going against us. As usual, Spurs were playing chicken with humiliation. Now you may think me harsh. A win at home today and we would claim 5th spot for the second successive season (as long as Everton failed to win at Chelsea). Would be the first time since 1990 that we would sit in a top 6 placing for a second consecutive year.

All looks good on paper doesn't it? But then, whoever heard of a trophy cabinet with a piece of A4 sitting in it?

I decided to attend the final game of the season with my traditional utility belt consisting of:

• Season Ticket 2007
• A box of matches
• Plastic bag to retain the ashes in (for potential ash-throwing later on)
• Leaflets proclaiming Levy as the anti-christ

I also attended the game in battle clothing. WTF, I hear you ask?

Well firstly, I decided against dressing up as the Anti-Chirpy this season, due to the incident in last years final home game when the real Chirpy squared up to me in Block 34 and we ended up having cock-on-cock action. It's difficult to throw punches dressed as a cartoon cockerel. Even more difficult is to know for sure whether your uppercuts are truly doing any damage due to the cushioned head-mask giving added protection. Suffice to say, I set fire to his face. Ah yes, fond memories of last year. They had to re-design him after that incident. Anyways, that was then. This is the present and today I went dressed as Sir Henry Percy aka Harry Hotspur, 1st Earl of Northumberland. Very apt if you ask me.

Reconstruction: How I looked dressed like Harry Hotspur

From head to toe, I looked the part. Even grew a beard for the occasion. However, due to sporting actual metallic plate armour (none of this fancy dress plastic rubbish - I have a friend who works in theatre) I was advised by the stewards that I would not be permitted to enter the stadium. I quite obviously stood my ground, finding strength from the fact that Henry was a true warrior. In fact, I sometimes wonder if maybe I am the reincarnation of him, which may explain my stupendous resolve and passion in times of hardship.

After a heated debate and the arrival of two police officers outside the South Stand lower entrance, I was politely informed not to continue my protest if I wished to attend the game. Or I'd be spending more than 90 minutes in the back of a police van. Fascism at its very worse. I had to remove the armour. This was not something I had planned for. I had no alternative clothing with me. And there was no chance of parting with my hard earned cash in the extortionate Spurs Shop.

I now knew how Henry did when he took his visor off during the Battle of Shrewsbury and was hit in the mouth with an arrow, instantly killing him. I had to suffer a similar indignity, as I too was lost for words.

Under the armour, I was actually not wearing much. I was wearing nothing in fact. There's something about the cold metal and the way it felt against my skin that made me decide to go commando. That and the fact that its bloody hot having to wear it and travel on the London Underground without being able to sit down. But the whole experience really helped me to connect with how Henry Percy might have felt when he was about to go into battle. I'm sure they didn't have boxer shorts back in those days any ways, so I felt quite authentic.

So, having removed the armour, I used my scarf as a make-shift nappy to hide my pride and joy. I'm going to take a guess and say the wolf whistles I got were ironic. And for the record, I do not and have never liked Barrymore and at no point in my life handed out sweets.

Anyway, half naked or not, I wasn't about to allow this little setback ruin my day. I took my place in my seat and watched the game with my fellow Spurs fans.

We played woefully bad again much like the Blackburn game on Thursday. Yes, we won. And yes we claimed 5th spot. But this is simply not good enough. I can only say that we must have the same kind of luck West Ham have, but simply opposite sides of the table. In other words, we are just lucky. Evidence supporting this:

• We can not defend crosses or set pieces
• We give away painfully simplistic goals, usually created out of individual errors
• We cannot take set pieces (corners or free kicks)
• We cannot cross the ball (still no true left winger three years later)
• We cannot keep clean sheets
• We still don't have the right balance in midfield
• We sit back instead of dominating possession

These defects are still present in the team that Martin Jol built and financed by Daniel Levy. Its like having a house with several holes in the roof that water drips down from. Instead of fixing the holes, you leave several buckets to capture the falling water.

Reconstruction: How I looked without the armour

We are 5th - when we should be 3rd. No excuses. Martin Jol's tactics and Levy and Comolli strategics have failed again. 20 more games this season than last, but its not like we played anyone decent in our cup matches (domestically and in Europe) until we played the teams that knocked us out.

Still no wins against the big 4 either in the Prem (or the Cups) and in any of the crunch games apart from the 2-1 win at WHL against Chelsea. But as that was the only victory, I'll put that down as a fluke.

If you take 3 games from the season that we could have won if it wasn't for individual or tactical mishaps, we could easily be neck and neck with 4th and 3rd. I'm getting side-tracked. More on the season in my season review which I'll write up in the next week or so.

Back to today. The game matched the weather (it was depressing). I tried several times to start up anti-Levy chants, only to be drowned out by 'England's Number One'. Yes, the immovable object still gets a chorus or ten every game, which I'm sure he celebrates by having a half-time pie.

As my nipples hardened in the cold weather and with the final whistle being blown, I then had to endure more cringe-worthy embarrassment. And for anyone in Block 34, I am not referring to the incident when my scarf came loose due to experiencing an 'unnecessary' and poked the young lady who sits in front of me in the back of her head (thankfully, she thought it was my match-day programme).

I am of course referring to the end of the game 'celebrations' which included various 'Player of the Year' awards and Martin Jol being handed a microphone. Now, initially, I half expected him to do an impersonation of Dean Martin if Dean Martin was alive, sober, Dutch and had no jokes. But it turned out to be a mish-mash of Winston Churchill rallying the troops and a Gordon Brown speech.

Jol is no MC

Several bursts of sound bites followed by rapturous supporter applause and chanting. It turned into a farce the moment he gave credit to the board of directors. I found myself utterly ashamed as a chorus of 'There's only one Daniel Levy' erupted from a section of the Park Lane. These fools must have been pissed on cheap cider - but the more likely explanation is that they are members of the Agents of Levy, a clandestine group of paid actors Levy has infiltrating the stands to make sure the right type of 'noises' are heard during the game.

Its like the CIA in South American all over again.

All the fanfare hides another disappointing season without silverware. Eight points adrift off 3rd place and still persisting in starting Anthony 'One more year till his testimonial' Gardner.

Gardner is a paradox. A man that should never have been a professional footballer, yet finds himself playing in the Premiership and earning thousands. Constantly proves he should drop down a division with his Harold Lloyd performances, yet consistently wears our colours as a utility player. Maybe Jol is waiting for Sam Beckett to quantum leap into Anthony and turn him into a hero. Newsflash Jol; Sam Beckett is played by an actor (Scott Bakula) and Quantum Leap is a fictional sci-fi television series. Its never going to happen. Anthony Gardner will never have Al and Ziggy to help him out with his back passes and composure.

After Jol's stand-up routine (he could have shat in a hat and still got worshipped by the home faithful) I proceeded with my traditional burning of my season ticket. Sadly, due to the enforced policing and general fascist state ethos the club aspires too I had to burn the season ticket in the mens toilets. This did not have the desired effect I wished for, as people kept asking me if I could share my spliff with them.

It would appear that Levy had the last laugh today. The sun, breaking out from behind the grey miserable clouds blinded everyone from the factual truth that we are once more 'nearly' there. I find myself dead, exhumed and cut up into four quarters - each part buried in each corner of the White Hart Lane pitch. All that's missing is my head stuck on a pole at the gates of the West Stand.

It's going to be long long summer. But don't think that the battle is over. I will haunt Levy like the ghost of Henry Percy. I mean literally. I plan to break into his house tonight and walk around with a white bed sheet over my head.