PROOF! That Harry Is Still Picking The Team

Just been emailed this little gem. Learlz.

Sky’s The Limit

Evil Sky

Wotcha. What to say about the Wolves game that hasn’t already been said?

Last year, Sunderland, West Brom, Everton and Wolves all came to our gaff for a point and, other than Wolves, they all got what they came for and we got 6/12 points from those 4 home games. This year, the same fixtures have now yielded 10/12.

Satisfied with a point at home to Wolves? Not really, but a recognition of our collective ability to overcome the boring brigades of this league this year is certainly due.

After being touted as Champions in waiting this time last week, only to be cleverly edited just 24 hours later on MOTD to show us wearing baggy trousers, clown shoes and red noses, (with big top music clearly being heard over the tannoy), we now travel to Sky Blue City in our familiar role of Sky fodder.

I went a bit mental after we lost 2-1 away at Chelsea towards the tail end of last season, claiming that neither of their goals should have stood (which is irrefutable), but that because Chelsea at the time were the only realistic challengers to Manure, having them lose or draw to us would have rendered the last few weeks of the title race a non-event, so them winning was certainly the most agreeable outcome. I agree, it is a bit mental, but the whole charade stunk of foul play and still raises an eyebrow when memories of that game flood back.

Anyway, a Spurs win on Sunday would probably suit all agenda’s (apart from City’s) in terms of making things more interesting, but realistically, the race for the title is one that most of the more pragmatic among us concede that we’re probably not quite in. Although it would sell a few more t-shirts if we were…

As for City, after being frankly terrified by their movement when they opened us up like a tin of old beans in August, they’re recent form has been less than impressive, losing at home for the first time in however long to a decidedly average Liverpiddle movement. Nasri, fizzing around our befuddled back line that day, has gone a little flat as journo’s strive to justify their wages by stirring debate about him not finding his best position. Dzeko too, has fallen somewhat from his goal scoring heroics of that afternoon and found the going a little tougher since.

Anyway, before I lose any further credibility (quiet at the back!), let’s put the mortgage on a 0-0 extravaganza of not-quite-knowing-what-to-do from either team. Rafa behind Defoe hasn’t yet worked, but it’ll be our only option in front of 2 banks of 4 I shouldn’t wonder. Rumours of Ledley having a chance would, as always, be a huge boost to whatever ambition we hold.

I’d Love ‘im At Spurs: The Adventures of Super Mario

In light of this marvellous little tale today from the BBC’s website of Manchester City’s undefinable Mario Balotelli turning up at a Manchester College to spend a penny, I received an email yesterday that chronicled some of the other things he’s been up to over his short, yet eventful career.

Mourinho couldn’t deal with his antics, and even ‘father figure’ Roberto Mancini often looks more incandescent than impressed at his enfant terrible. Like many a fan, when he first turned up, I thought he summed up everything that was wrong with the modern day Premier League player; Brash, arrogant, passionless and ambivalent towards any sort of team ethic. However, the more stories I read, like the one about him swapping back to his old Italy shirt at half time because he didn’t like the new one (a personal favourite), the more I’m beginning to begrudgingly admire the lad, and far from perpetuating a horrible stereotype of the loutish footballer, he’s becoming a bit of a breath of fresh air.

Perhaps I’d stop short of wishing him upon our dressing room; Assou-Ekotto owning an oyster card and getting his hair done down Tottenham High Road is about as eccentric as I can handle in this new age of squad harmony at The Lodge, but a player with Mario’s unique outlook on life would certainly mean that life would never be dull, and Twitter never silent.

So here they are. They may have been taken from somewhere else, but I’m too lazy to check, and you may have heard a few of them already. What’s your personal favourite?

· Survived a usually fatal disease at birth

· £10,000 in parking fines.

· Car has been impounded 27 times.

· £300,000 fine for throwing darts at the youth team.

· Won £25,000 in a casino, gave £1,000 to a tramp outside the casino.

· Threw tomatoes at a Serie A manager.

· Threw Water Balloons at a Serie A disciplinary hearing.

· Started a fight with 4 bouncers after breaking the “no touching” rule at a strip club.

· The “bib” saga.

· Had a £120,000 Audi imported, wrote it off within a week.

· Had his friend approach girls in a nightclub and say “Balotelli will see you now”

· Sent to the shops by his mother to buy essentials for the house, came back with a giant trampoline, a Vespa and a Scalectrix.

· Has started fights at training with Kompany, Boateng, Tevez and Richards.

· Was frequently seen at the AC Milan superstore while playing for Inter Milan.

· Went on TV wearing an AC Milan shirt with his name on the back while playing for Inter.

· Whilst playing for Italy under 21’s, he is fouled, he sits on the pitch for 3-4 minutes ignoring the opposition, his team mates and the referee.

· He is then offended when he gets sent off and protests about it.

· Winks at Ferdinand after FA cup semi final and celebrates in front of the United fans.

· After the cup final on live TV, he says “I have been s*** this season, am I allowed say s*** on TV?

· Was stopped by police going around his hometown of Hulme with £ 25,000 cash in the passenger seat. When asked why he replied “because I’m rich”

· Had to be physically hauled away by Zanetti for refusing to let Samuel Eto’o take a penalty that he had earned.

· Once broke up with a girlfriend via text whilst she was presenting a live show.

· Drove his car into a women’s prison because he wanted to “look around”

· Has connections with the Italian mafia, he has testified in court at a Mafia trial.

· Brought his Ipad on to the bench for Italy’s international against the Faroe Islands because he wanted to play games on it.

· Was seen in a Manchester shopping centre “hi-fiving” city fans the day after City had beaten United 6-1.

· Became the face of a firework safety campaign a few days after setting his house on fire from letting off fireworks indoors.

· Hands £50 notes to strangers when out shopping in Manchester.

· Chanted “Rooney, Rooney” at the prostitute who claimed to have slept with Wayne Rooney.

· Italy had just brought out a brand new home kit, at the start of the second half for their first match wearing the new kit, Balotelli came out in the old kit, claiming he didn’t like the new one. Nobody else had changed.

· Turned the landscaped back garden of his house into a Quad bike track

· Balotelli at it again...
apparently he pulled up in a petrol station and told everyone there to fill up because he was paying!

Well Hush My Mouth

Apologies go out to Lake Jivermore. Not wet or motionless at all, but shimmering, glimmering, grand and serene. Well played young man, you’ve just won my prestigious man of the match award. It’s in the post, although I couldn’t afford stamps, and don’t have a clue where you live.

Run close by Van der Vaart, who in the last 2 league games has been exemplary in his intelligence and space finding, and proving he’s got the hammys for a consistent run around. You too, Benny Sue; lovely pass that had Leighton Baines chasing his tail, and what a thwumper of a finish. That, along with denying any sort of attacking movement on his territory, made it a rather good evening for our favourite community support officer.

Title talk is being whispered within our small circles, while some two footed tackle in a far inferior game dominates the back pages. That’s the way we like it, and if there were ever a way of going quietly about a real tilt at the big one, then surely this must be it? Realistically, I’d still take 3^rd if you offered it now, but while our band wagon continues to defy gravity and roll uphill, caution is being flung from the sides with reckless abandon, and calls of ‘can you imagine if we ACTUALLY did it?’ Not too loudly though, you’ll have to listen carefully.

Wolves are the next head on our chopping block, and despite us being a little short in a couple of departments, surely the biggest danger of blunting our axe will come from complacency within, rather than a footballing undoing at the hands of Mick’s grafters. I just hope Harry tells them that you get just as many points for beating Wolves at home as City away. Mind you, it is ruddy tempting to look forward to facing a Kompany and Toure’s-less City, with a, hopefully, fully recovered Captain Combover in our ranks. Just a shame Adebayor isn’t allowed to play…

…Yes, Wolves. Let’s beat them. Don’t get ahead of yourselves Spurs. We’ll do that for you.

14-0 Gets Us Second

Afternoon gang. A victory by a mere 14 goals tonight, and we’ll officially be the closest chasers to the Middle Eastlanders; a historically stubborn and belligerent blue wave from that there side of Mersey are all that stand in our way. To be honest, I’d take a scrappy ten-nil-er. You know, just to stay interested like.

Cheltenham ticket duly dispatched to a lovely chap wot answered my Twitter ‘shout out’, details of the game remain elusive, but a greater number of goals were scored by us than them, and on we march to the North-South divide of Watford for the 4^th round. Arse/Chelski/Manure for the 5^th round should we progress, I’m sure.

Dawsons back, which will hopefully see the return of the marvellous ‘Dawsons Week’ on the official site (doo doo doo doo, doodoo doo doo doo). Was there ever a more tenuous reason to chronicle the fortunes of one player, than the fact that it sort of sounded like a period-enducing flop fest from the 90’s? Who cares, it’s the stuff of a marketers dreams and I’m embracing it fully.

Elsewhere, Sandro’s got a ‘bad one’, Gallas, not so much, Thuddlestone’s hair continues its outward trajectory, and Parker is very doubtful for tonight. Unfortunately, in comes, probably, Lake Jivermore. Apt, what with him being a bit wet and not moving much. Fears for our ability in the middle of the grass against whoever they decide to play there abound.

Still, Luka van der Bale plays, so let’s not whinge too much, there’s enough there to get a semblance of a job done.

Stand up and be counted, or some such. Joint second is there for the grabbing. Not one for the motivationals you understand. Win etcetera! Goals!

2-1 to the Spurs

Alive. Just.

Wow. Sorry about the silence folks. Between Christmas, New Year, family, work and a brutal marathon training schedule, it’s just been too mental.

That’s a lie. I mean, all of the above are genuine you understand, but the REAL reason for my shocking levels of contribution to the blogging world is that someone told me you could buy Champo (Football Manager 2012 actually, but it will ALWAYS be Champo) as an iPhone app’ and I’ve been playing it solidly for a week. There are some that would argue that this is the most futile of all pursuits, but I’d then point those same people in the direction of my UEFA and FA Cup double and 6^th placed Premier League finish… with Leyton Orient, and those same people would no doubt bow down before me and claim that they know nothing about life and consult me as an oracle in all future matters. Oh man, I need to delete that game.

It’s been a while since I engaged with real football, but I vaguely remember saying I’d be happy with 4 points from the Norwich and Swansea games. It was then re-qualified to be happy, as long as we beat the Brom. We done it all. That, coupled with a set of bizarre results elsewhere upon our Sceptered Isle, has further cemented our place in the nosebleed section of the table. The oft’ cited and almost mythical game in hand against Everton is next up for our troops in the league, and chance again to heap further misery on the parasites waiting for us to crash and burn.

Harry’s been saying that we won’t be investing in bodies, and that only a ‘special’ player suddenly becoming available will tempt Danny Boy to open the Tottenham chequebook. Ronaldo? Rooney? Soldado? It’s a nice idea, but essentially meaningless, because ‘special’ players very rarely move in January. Bodies move in January. Harry’ll know that we probably need another DC, and probably an AM R/L, maybe a DM C on loan (seriously, must get rid) if we are to absorb the whacks we’re bound to sustain in the second half of the season, and the job lot of Samba/Hoillett in the Blackburn fire sale would seem to fit the bill. The convenience or truth of this talk will surface at around one minute to deadline.

F.A. Cup magic returns to the Lane this weekend. Not for me though, I won’t be there, because Tottenham decided to issue me with a ticket in another part of the ground, what with the cup allocation rules 'n' all, and sat me on my own away from Flymo and all the others we usually sit amongst. Munro’s got my ticket, and he doesn’t mind sitting on his tod, so it’s all worked out nicely. Besides, I’ve got wedding photos to be sorting through (slash) trying to win the league with The O’s.

Laters (on)