I Believe In You, Gomes

My pal, @mattcg from twitter done this awesome picture of you. A link to his other Spurs drawings are up there in the top left.

Dear Heurelho Gomes

You don't know me, but I've always been a big fan of yours. I've seen every one of your games at White Hart Lane from the Upper section of the South Stand, and although your experiences with the crowd are of the collective variety, I've come to see my interaction with you as a rather personal one. I still do the 'woooohhh eeeeeh' along with your crossbar jump routine thing at the beginning of the every second half, and have even been known to join in with the 'I'd let you sh...'... well, you know the words. I wouldn't really though, that would be a bit much. But you'd certainly be welcome round for dinner, or perhaps we could take our collective brood out on their trikes and get a Costa? Anyway, I'll leave the ball in your court.

Even though life at Tottenham didn't start well for you, I always believed because I'd seen first-hand what you could do after those UEFA cup games with your old club, PSV. No matter how many people called for your head, I would tell anyone that would listen that you were a class act, and to just be patient. That game at Fulham was certainly a test of faith, but I believed. Only after Ramos had gone did the full scale of the behind-the-scenes farce come to light; made to play with busted ribs, right? That breakdown at Stoke begun to make sense, and the haters had been silenced by your dignity in the face of such a brutal onslaught by those who were meant to be getting behind you. Let's not forget of course, the MOTD couch softeners, and the headline writers who had a field day with the endless 'calamity keeper' jibes. But like a real man, you kept your head down, kept working, and with the right personnel appointed around you and an arm around the shoulder from your new gaffer, the headline-making errors went away and you became one of the leagues outstanding goalies.

I can still see now, clear as crystal in my minds eye, you leaping from nowhere to claw that van persie header away in the dieing stages of our game against that lot, around this time last year. If it's not the best save I've ever seen live, then it's certainly the most memorable. This is the real Gomes. Not always conventional, but can do what only a handful of goalkeepers in the world are capable of. 20 Paul Robinsons wouldn't have got close to that header.

Growing up in Brazil, you might not have ever seen it, but in England, every Christmas there's a film called 'Santa Claus: The Movie' that routinely has a slot on one of the various channels, and is considered mandatory viewing in my house. Your current plight has got me thinking about the film during this unseasonable period, as the resemblances in your respective career arc's are quite striking.

Santa himself was faced with a daunting task after being selected as the next custodian at the North (London) Pole. Overwhelmed at first by the size of the task, the expectation placed upon him by so many elves, and a lack of belief from the wider public, Santa set about his task, produced some really top-notch stuff, and with the help of a loveable street urchin named Joe, eventually won back the love of the public. For the purposes of the rest of the story, Heurelho, I'd like you to think of me assuming the role of Joe, the street urchin, spreading the good word of your work.

But things started to go wrong again. The quality began to dip and suddenly the public weren't being given brilliantly crafted merchandise any longer, but hastily assembled rubbish that fell apart at the slightest sign of strain. Word had got around that Santa was turning out moody gear, and people were even more disillusioned than before. Where as before, you'd expect a solid toy from Santa 99 times out of 100, it was now more like 9 times out of 10. While everyone knew that a faultless production line was as rare as a gooner you can have a sensible football discussion with (i.e., non-existant), 90% reliability really isn't enough for someone in such a forensic business as his. But little Joe still believed, only this time he started taking actual beatings from his fellow urchins for the conviction of his beliefs! This bit doesn't mirror the movie EXACTLY, you understand. I bruise like over ripe fruit, but would certainly shake my head in a VERY stern fashion if I heard anyone besmirching your good name. Just so you know.

You'll be pleased to know, Heurelho, that the movie ends happily with everyone's faith being restored in Santa, and little Joe going to live with him in the North Pole (we'll discuss this bit further when we meet up), but not before Santa performs the 'super-duper looper'. I'm not quite sure what the point of this was, but it basically involves Santa getting all of the reindeer to do a massive loop-the-loop in the sky, something which they've been unable to do throughout the whole movie. I'm not suggesting that you should take responsibility for trying to catch Dudley Moore from an exploding sleigh (just remembered the point of it. Seriously, great flick), but if you could see your way to producing the goalkeeping equivalent in the coming weeks, I just know everyone will love you again, as I always have.

Gone are the days of me believing in Santa, but I believe in you, Heurelho Gomes

Lots of love

Rio

P.S. Whatever happens, please don't let Paul Robinson come back. I know he loves Tottenham, but so does my 5 year old nephew... and he's a f**kin sh*t keeper as well. He got beaten from 2 yards by his dog the other day. Seriously, it was embarrassing.