Rafaaaa.....
My head tells me AVB was the best manager (in terms of profile and undoubted skills) that we've had in the Premier League era. My heart is now telling me that he was a cretinous sod for making VDV leave.
We're a different team now, I suppose. An uber-fit, uber-young team with a tactical plan, a relentless work ethic, with teamwork and industriousness trumping free-willed creativity....and in Poch, I think we currently have the anti-Harry, so there's no surprise in the revelation that the club wasn't interested in bringing Rafa back this year.
But regardless of those facts, I'm still head over heels infatuated with VDV. He was the epitome of all that was glorious about us in those two frenetic seasons: he played with swagger, made sturdy, seasoned opposition defenders look like bumbling schoolboys, played with a carefree abandon that was magnificent to watch, and was fierce, passionate and strong-willed to boot. He shushed the apoplectic Arsenal fans at the Emirates, he schooled young Jack Wheelchair with a phenomenally effortless piece of skill, he connected with the fans and our history, and made us all dream of great things just over the golden horizon. And in doing so, and along with Modric, Bale, Ade, Lennon, and 'I'm a fackin' football manager' Harry....he epitomized Tottenham Hotspur.
Our ethos, our history, our reason for being....that side epitomised all that, with him at the forefront.
Yes, he had tracing paper hamstrings and the lungs of a baby. Yes, his defensive efforts were....suspect, at best. And yes, ultimately the whole glorious mirage came crashing down and we fell from the heights, our wax wings burned by the relentless sun. But that's what makes him so appealing to me. For two glorious seasons, that team was the very embodiment of the swinging fortunes and wild abandon that is Tottenham Hotspur. And him most of all.
I miss him. I miss those great days, that team, and even Harry....but most of all, I miss him. Even though I know he won't be coming back, because of his incompatibility with our new managerial regime and its somewhat mechanical, automaton-like ways.
Ah, fudge, I've gotten too teary and sentimental for my own good. Why'd he speak up again, dammit, I was happier just forgetting that he was still around, playing football somewhere. Off to Betis, Rafa. Adios.
And godspeed.