As Good As It Gets

Greetings all. Despite best efforts and even putting my money where my mouth is, even this ever-chirpy blogger is finding it hard to envisage a sequence of events that would lead to us reclaiming our top 4 berth. Like the long weekend, Tottenham’s dream of a return began fading out of sight, and all but ended, last sunny, Saturday afternoon at Stamford Bridge. We all saw it. Daylight robbery, staggering incompetence, so cruel. A conspiracy? With our fate as also-rans virtually sealed, I find it hard to muster the emotion to give the officiating performance the vitriol it deserves; calling for the heads of these professional clowns that extinguished any lingering hope we had of UCL qualification, while making sure that Sky Sports can run their (I’m certain) already prepared string of ‘’BIGGEST EVER F**KING GAME IN THE HISTORY OF THE F**KING GAME’’ adverts in the lead up to the only one they’ve ever wanted to make interesting all season long. Our ‘ave a go-ing, media darling-ing and Gareth Bale-ing flattery would appear to have been just that. Firmly put back in our place, the Tottenham Hotspur product had run it’s life-cycle for this season; there was no more juice to be squeezed from our narrative fruit and we were disarmed; a killer blow in the throes of our seasons death would NEVER be tolerated. ‘D’ya get me sweetheart?’

‘Yes. It’s not a subtle point you’re making, Mr Udall’

Sliding effortlessly back to the point and away from what could descend into Mourinho levels of imagined persecution, Harry Redknapp and Melvin Udall share a lot of similarities, not least in their ability to wow the wider world while showing an almost dismissive regard for the man on the street (or in the stands in Harry’s case). Hard to love but always compelling, his recent stultification at those who dared to suggest that home draws to West Ham and West Brom weren’t exactly what we were looking for, the bigger picture shows that we’ve come a long way under his guidance, and removing Harry won’t magically install the mental cojones that all bar a select few of the troops are sadly lacking; Mods and Sandro to name but two of the exceptions.

One can no more single out Harry than single out the goalkeeper, 4-4-2 vs 4-5-1, the forwards, VdV, mental attitude, not signing a striker, not signing more experience, not signing hungrier youth, UCL distractions, the chairman, the OS malarkey, the fans, the weight of expectation, the length of the grass at Upton Park last September, or Saturdays officials for the failings of our campaign. Some have called for the manager’s head. Why not, he’s the man in charge, the buck surely has to stop with him right? Will Osama’s death lead to peace and tranquillity throughout the land? The example is perhaps a little extreme but the main point that changing a figurehead will not resolve the myriad of other issues is both broad and valid. Ossie and Harry are also victims of our desire for neat solutions and focusing our hatred on a single entity. Demonise one person, make everyone think that they are solely responsible for any evil visited upon us and rejoice when their head is brought to us on a platter.

‘What if this is As Good As It Gets?’

With nowt but the prospect of contemplating a Europa League campaign against… not contemplating a Europa League campaign, will this season be remembered as being somewhat vintage? Our memories are wonderful things. I, for example, had to search back through the results from last year to recall that we suffered disappointing home defeats to Stoke and Wolves, but have no problem recalling that Rose and Bale scored in the home win over the goonies, or a frame-by-frame recollection of Crouchie scoring up at Middle Eastlands. 10 years down the line, I’ll recall fondly the night I saw Gareth Bale terrorising the reigning European Champions, and Lennon and Crouch crafting our winner at the San Siro against AC Milan, or Younes rising at the Emirates and treasure them as dearly as family photos. I probably won’t remember the draws with West Brom/Ham. History won’t judge this season as a collage of failure, despite the fact that our micro-analysis can’t see past the minutest of detail at this moment. It’s bigger picture time, and in 5, 10 or 20 years, we’ll look back on the days of Modric, Bale and VdV and proclaim what a marvellous side we had.

But that’s not to say that we haven’t missed a trick, and that we haven’t yet made sure that this won’t be as good as it gets. A chance to establish ourselves firmly in the big time hasn’t yet passed us by, but to say that next season is rather important for Tottenham, may be the understatement of our recent history. The goodwill garnered from this years Champions League campaign might have staved off the itching feet of our star men for now, but a summer of transfer market failure, coupled with an iffy start to next season will see all of that kudos disappear very quickly.

Apparently there’s a game tomorrow. Let’s win it. The road to next season’s league title begins here.