Having just torn myself away from the stranger I've been hugging and 'yessing' at since Niko's pearler, thought it was about time to compose and do my bit to honour a quite bonkers Saturday afternoon of footy.
A game that could and should have been sewn up within 10 minutes turned into another oscar worthy piece of drama, penned by the joint talents of Redknapp and Kranjcar, the latter suffering from a touch of stage fright (hate that) in previous outings, but enunciating perfectly when we needed him the most. Moments previously, with the scores still at 1-1, the jumbotron delivered the news that our friends in the North had done what no other team in Premier League history had done before and come from 0-4 down to make it 4-4. The fact that it was against our friends from the South lifted it from the status of quirky stat to potential afternoon saver, were we to come up short in our quest for 3 points. In the gloom of watching us trying and failing however, it got no more than a smile from yours truly, and would have been scant consolation. But then the 2 substitutes Pav and Krankie, both linked with moves away from the club in January, conspired an absolute beaut' of a winner. From where I was sitting at the other end of the stadium, I initially thought it was Charlie doing the twinkle toes routine on the edge of their box, so when the ball was switched to the left foot, my heart sank a bit as I waited for the inevitable scuff... so imagine my surprise when... Hang on that's N... Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees *jumps around like a f**kin mentalist hugging all in my slightly terrifying path*. That goal was greeted as loudly as any scored against the arse, Chelski or Inter Milan, and it will live long in the memory.
Special mentions for Jenas who was excellent, as was Crouch who deserved his standing ovation when he was replaced by Pav. Lennon, clearly carrying a knock in the last 10 after we'd made our 3 subs also fought bravely and Gallas put in another contract-extender of a performance. Gomes was perhaps the most relieved man on the pitch after the winner, having poorly judged the useful-looking Sturridge's shot that almost earned the Wanderers a point.
Watching yanited lose at Wolves over a few celebratory/nerve-calming jars in a pub that smelt like latrines was yet another cherry on an already fruity football cake.
Horribly dull news sees the return of Ingerland to our tellyboxes as we take on the Danes in midweek, meaning there's bound to be a bit of overtime on offer to the Tottenham physio's in the next few weeks. No sooner has he returned from Ingerlanditis but Daws has been recalled, while just the mere writing of Peter Crouch's name on the squad list has caused him to drop out with some sort of wonky fitness issue. Apparently, if Capello writes his name 3 times in a row he will own his soul. Most contentious of the lot seems to be young Kyle Walker being somewhat of a surprise inclusion, and despite what the drones on SSN will have you believe, he's actually still a Tottenham player. I'm not sure why this is such a surprise in a world where Glen Johnson is currently considered the best available option in the position, as long as he remembers his name and can tie his own bootlaces, I'd have him starting there. There are a few bleatings about how Lennon has been overlooked in favour of Walnut. No complaints here, keep him at the Lodge and let the SAL get injured instead.
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