*** TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR vs Brighton OMT ***

[Aldo]

No, what is the informed perspective of an old ex pro usually with a bias who has nor played the modern game worth?
If after watching and playing the game over 60 years I don't not what went well and what didn't I'm wasting my time, these experts have little knowledge of what instructions the players have or if they are carrying an injury and are just making the same mistakes in thier opinions as I do. I'm just and old fart but they are experts as that what its says on the tele.
Were you not aware we conceded the goal on Saturday as we were fannying about in a dangerous area or that we scored by using quick forward passes, no nor was I till I was told by an expert.

I saw that ex-Liverpool player Stephen Warnock was saying last night how convinced he is that Liverpool will win the league. Now I read this morning that ex-Aston Villa player Stephen Warnock has also assured us that Villa will get 4th.

BTW he's such a scouse disciple he's even gone for the big glasses and big new teeth.

 

[K.D.D.D.D.Soc]

Well, well, well. I must post about my own stupidity here from Saturday.



Woke at 6am for my flight to Stansted. Had a light breakfast as I’m trying to shed a stone or two and got to airport and out to Tottenham Hale about 11ish. Decided against a fried breakfast and went and had a couple of pints. Yep, coz filling yourself full of pints really is a way to lose weight. Head to the ground around 1ish and stand down at level 1 listening to the musician with pints in hand. Figure I’ll get something to eat before the game. So two lads ask if they can stand in beside me. “Sure”, I said, “be my guest”. “Oh, is that an Irish accent,” says one of the lads who are from Dublin and we proceed to ‘have the craic’ until I realise it’s 2:55 so I need to get to my seat. Game happens, massive relief at the end and I’m meeting a mate from home after who is also at the game.



So I go across to where he is in the stadium and he’s drinking two pints at a time. Bunch more pints and the stadium closes. So we head to Number 8 and dance the night away till about 9:30 when the tequila, beer and no food take their toll and as much as I need to get home, he really needs to get home. Drag him up to WHL station and somehow get myself to Tottenham Hale and on the Stansted Express coz I’m staying out there and flying early Sunday.



Only I’m awoken by a fella throwing me off the train. “Ah bollox, I’ve slept through my stop”, thinks I. “Ah I’ll just wait and it’ll bring me back to Stansted”. Except it’s 12:30 and the train’s going nowhere. “Ah f**k, I’ll just stay in the station”, thinks I but just as I find a nice spot, they kick us out as they close for the night. So now, I’m stranded at Liverpool Street Station, next to a McDonalds frequented almost exclusively by people half my age and I don’t want to move too far as I don’t know the area and will get lost. So now I’m cold, tired, hungry and miserable and the hangover is setting in. All the while, I look like some sort of pervert to everyone else in the area given my advanced years relative to the rest of the people in the area.



Hung around till 4am before the first train. Got to Stansted and eventually got on my flight. Stomach is ropey. There’s a young lad next to me who throws his guts up on the plane. Last thing I need. I turn to look at him and he looks back, laughs and says “just getting sick”. No brick Sherlock.



Eventually get home at 11am Sunday and sleep pretty much until this morning. What a f**king idiot. This is why I don’t drink much anymore. But, any time you get 3 points is better than not getting 3 points regardless of everything else. COYS.

Glad you got home ok, sounds like a nightmare return journey at least the result made it worthwhile. I moan if it takes me more than 90 mins to get home.

 

[DeanoAustin]

Glad you got home ok, sounds like a nightmare return journey at least the result made it worthwhile. I moan if it takes me more than 90 mins to get home.

Cheers. To be fair, I stood in the cold about 2am feeling sorry for myself and thought how unfair it all was and then had to catch myself and say “Well, it really is no-one’s fault other than your own. All self-inflicted”.

Ah well, it’s a story to tell people. This is why I really rather go to the games with my 11 year old. At least then, as well as it being a better day out, I have to act responsibly.

 

[markysimmo]

Read that Dele was at the game on Saturday, would have been nice for him to say hello on the pitch at half time

 

[ricky2tricky4city]

Cheers. To be fair, I stood in the cold about 2am feeling sorry for myself and thought how unfair it all was and then had to catch myself and say “Well, it really is no-one’s fault other than your own. All self-inflicted”.

Ah well, it’s a story to tell people. This is why I really rather go to the games with my 11 year old. At least then, as well as it being a better day out, I have to act responsibly.

Now I'm older...I always do my best to avoid getting myself into these situations.

I would always 'guilt trip' myself the next day. Partly because I have responsibilities but mainly 'why the fudge did I do that?' 'was that really necessary?' and just the shear recovery from it. I can't be doing with it. Still partake in having a drink but not go silly.

Btw ..This is zero judgement on you my friend .

 

[DeanoAustin]

Now I'm older...I always do my best to avoid getting myself into these situations.

I would always 'guilt trip' myself the next day. Partly because I have responsibilities but mainly 'why the fudge did I do that?' 'was that really necessary?' and just the shear recovery from it. I can't be doing with it. Still partake in having a drink but not go silly.

Btw ..This is zero judgement on you my friend .

No hassle at all if you were judging. Was imbecilic. Waste of a day yesterday and still feel rotten this morning. It’s why I don’t drink much anymore, just lost the run of myself on Saturday.

 

[parklane1]

Well, well, well. I must post about my own stupidity here from Saturday.



Woke at 6am for my flight to Stansted. Had a light breakfast as I’m trying to shed a stone or two and got to airport and out to Tottenham Hale about 11ish. Decided against a fried breakfast and went and had a couple of pints. Yep, coz filling yourself full of pints really is a way to lose weight. Head to the ground around 1ish and stand down at level 1 listening to the musician with pints in hand. Figure I’ll get something to eat before the game. So two lads ask if they can stand in beside me. “Sure”, I said, “be my guest”. “Oh, is that an Irish accent,” says one of the lads who are from Dublin and we proceed to ‘have the craic’ until I realise it’s 2:55 so I need to get to my seat. Game happens, massive relief at the end and I’m meeting a mate from home after who is also at the game.



So I go across to where he is in the stadium and he’s drinking two pints at a time. Bunch more pints and the stadium closes. So we head to Number 8 and dance the night away till about 9:30 when the tequila, beer and no food take their toll and as much as I need to get home, he really needs to get home. Drag him up to WHL station and somehow get myself to Tottenham Hale and on the Stansted Express coz I’m staying out there and flying early Sunday.



Only I’m awoken by a fella throwing me off the train. “Ah bollox, I’ve slept through my stop”, thinks I. “Ah I’ll just wait and it’ll bring me back to Stansted”. Except it’s 12:30 and the train’s going nowhere. “Ah f**k, I’ll just stay in the station”, thinks I but just as I find a nice spot, they kick us out as they close for the night. So now, I’m stranded at Liverpool Street Station, next to a McDonalds frequented almost exclusively by people half my age and I don’t want to move too far as I don’t know the area and will get lost. So now I’m cold, tired, hungry and miserable and the hangover is setting in. All the while, I look like some sort of pervert to everyone else in the area given my advanced years relative to the rest of the people in the area.



Hung around till 4am before the first train. Got to Stansted and eventually got on my flight. Stomach is ropey. There’s a young lad next to me who throws his guts up on the plane. Last thing I need. I turn to look at him and he looks back, laughs and says “just getting sick”. No brick Sherlock.



Eventually get home at 11am Sunday and sleep pretty much until this morning. What a f**king idiot. This is why I don’t drink much anymore. But, any time you get 3 points is better than not getting 3 points regardless of everything else. COYS.

Sounds like a great day out to me i am to old now though to do even half of that. A memory never to forget.

 

[DeanoAustin]

Sounds like a great day out to me i am to old now though to do even half of that. A memory never to forget.

I always say, “Tottenham will always let you down”. On Saturday they didn’t – I managed to do that completely on my own.

 

[parklane1]

I always say, “Tottenham will always let you down”. On Saturday they didn’t – I managed to do that completely on my own.

 

[Finney Is Back]

I always say, “Tottenham will always let you down”. On Saturday they didn’t – I managed to do that completely on my own.

I think you did yourself proud mate…. Not your fault that nobody had the decency to wake you up at Stanstead!

Next time (and, let’s face it, there will be a next time) Remember that there is a 24 hour restaurant right by Liverpool St station and go and plot up in there, slowly ordering more courses of average food to pass the time until first train.

 

[Bedfordspurs]

I always say, “Tottenham will always let you down”. On Saturday they didn’t – I managed to do that completely on my own.

Been there and done it
will do it again
its life
we live, and learn. And then live some more
although flying with hangover is awful

 

[Grays_1890]

I think you did yourself proud mate…. Not your fault that nobody had the decency to wake you up at Stanstead!

Next time (and, let’s face it, there will be a next time) Remember that there is a 24 hour restaurant right by Liverpool St station and go and plot up in there, slowly ordering more courses of average food to pass the time until first train.

Hahah the Polo has been a source of saviour on many a night in town

 

[paxtonwolf]

Well, well, well. I must post about my own stupidity here from Saturday.



Woke at 6am for my flight to Stansted. Had a light breakfast as I’m trying to shed a stone or two and got to airport and out to Tottenham Hale about 11ish. Decided against a fried breakfast and went and had a couple of pints. Yep, coz filling yourself full of pints really is a way to lose weight. Head to the ground around 1ish and stand down at level 1 listening to the musician with pints in hand. Figure I’ll get something to eat before the game. So two lads ask if they can stand in beside me. “Sure”, I said, “be my guest”. “Oh, is that an Irish accent,” says one of the lads who are from Dublin and we proceed to ‘have the craic’ until I realise it’s 2:55 so I need to get to my seat. Game happens, massive relief at the end and I’m meeting a mate from home after who is also at the game.



So I go across to where he is in the stadium and he’s drinking two pints at a time. Bunch more pints and the stadium closes. So we head to Number 8 and dance the night away till about 9:30 when the tequila, beer and no food take their toll and as much as I need to get home, he really needs to get home. Drag him up to WHL station and somehow get myself to Tottenham Hale and on the Stansted Express coz I’m staying out there and flying early Sunday.



Only I’m awoken by a fella throwing me off the train. “Ah bollox, I’ve slept through my stop”, thinks I. “Ah I’ll just wait and it’ll bring me back to Stansted”. Except it’s 12:30 and the train’s going nowhere. “Ah f**k, I’ll just stay in the station”, thinks I but just as I find a nice spot, they kick us out as they close for the night. So now, I’m stranded at Liverpool Street Station, next to a McDonalds frequented almost exclusively by people half my age and I don’t want to move too far as I don’t know the area and will get lost. So now I’m cold, tired, hungry and miserable and the hangover is setting in. All the while, I look like some sort of pervert to everyone else in the area given my advanced years relative to the rest of the people in the area.



Hung around till 4am before the first train. Got to Stansted and eventually got on my flight. Stomach is ropey. There’s a young lad next to me who throws his guts up on the plane. Last thing I need. I turn to look at him and he looks back, laughs and says “just getting sick”. No brick Sherlock.



Eventually get home at 11am Sunday and sleep pretty much until this morning. What a f**king idiot. This is why I don’t drink much anymore. But, any time you get 3 points is better than not getting 3 points regardless of everything else. COYS.

And I moaned at taking 5hours to get home on the M1 and M6...would not swap with you on that one

 

[Raziel]

Well, well, well. I must post about my own stupidity here from Saturday.



Woke at 6am for my flight to Stansted. Had a light breakfast as I’m trying to shed a stone or two and got to airport and out to Tottenham Hale about 11ish. Decided against a fried breakfast and went and had a couple of pints. Yep, coz filling yourself full of pints really is a way to lose weight. Head to the ground around 1ish and stand down at level 1 listening to the musician with pints in hand. Figure I’ll get something to eat before the game. So two lads ask if they can stand in beside me. “Sure”, I said, “be my guest”. “Oh, is that an Irish accent,” says one of the lads who are from Dublin and we proceed to ‘have the craic’ until I realise it’s 2:55 so I need to get to my seat. Game happens, massive relief at the end and I’m meeting a mate from home after who is also at the game.



So I go across to where he is in the stadium and he’s drinking two pints at a time. Bunch more pints and the stadium closes. So we head to Number 8 and dance the night away till about 9:30 when the tequila, beer and no food take their toll and as much as I need to get home, he really needs to get home. Drag him up to WHL station and somehow get myself to Tottenham Hale and on the Stansted Express coz I’m staying out there and flying early Sunday.



Only I’m awoken by a fella throwing me off the train. “Ah bollox, I’ve slept through my stop”, thinks I. “Ah I’ll just wait and it’ll bring me back to Stansted”. Except it’s 12:30 and the train’s going nowhere. “Ah f**k, I’ll just stay in the station”, thinks I but just as I find a nice spot, they kick us out as they close for the night. So now, I’m stranded at Liverpool Street Station, next to a McDonalds frequented almost exclusively by people half my age and I don’t want to move too far as I don’t know the area and will get lost. So now I’m cold, tired, hungry and miserable and the hangover is setting in. All the while, I look like some sort of pervert to everyone else in the area given my advanced years relative to the rest of the people in the area.



Hung around till 4am before the first train. Got to Stansted and eventually got on my flight. Stomach is ropey. There’s a young lad next to me who throws his guts up on the plane. Last thing I need. I turn to look at him and he looks back, laughs and says “just getting sick”. No brick Sherlock.



Eventually get home at 11am Sunday and sleep pretty much until this morning. What a f**king idiot. This is why I don’t drink much anymore. But, any time you get 3 points is better than not getting 3 points regardless of everything else. COYS.

Good story once the pain of the moment wears off.

Glad you eventually got home ..

 

[greatwhitenorf]

No, what is the informed perspective of an old ex pro usually with a bias who has nor played the modern game worth?
If after watching and playing the game over 60 years I don't not what went well and what didn't I'm wasting my time, these experts have little knowledge of what instructions the players have or if they are carrying an injury and are just making the same mistakes in thier opinions as I do. I'm just and old fart but they are experts as that what its says on the tele.
Were you not aware we conceded the goal on Saturday as we were fannying about in a dangerous area or that we scored by using quick forward passes, no nor was I till I was told by an expert.

I like what you're saying. I might not have been so eager to agree a couple of years back before streaming services (DAZN, then FUBO TV) took over delivery of PL games to Canada. I quite enjoyed when one of our domestic cable sports networks (TSN, Sportsnet) delivered the games with the customary studio panel introducing the games and providing half-time and post-match analysis. For the most part, good people delivering good information. It was very enjoyable but we only saw what they provided within the time frame allotted for the telecast.

But now, these streaming services allow a much more elastic viewing experience. I can go back at my leisure and review any part of any game and see for myself who did what, how and when. It's fabulous. Just to have the luxury of replaying the build-up to the winning goal against Brighton was very enjoyable. Just to look at the whole sequence - Van de Ven to Davies to Maddison, ahead to Richarlison, on to Son and the cross for Johnson to stroke home the winner. I don't need an expert to tell me anything. My own eyes can see for themselves. And I can run it back again and again and maybe laugh at commentator Tony Jones saying how stoppage time is when "Spurs are at their most vulnerable" and we roar down the pitch and blow the bloody doors off.

Mark me down as fully converted.

 

[greatwhitenorf]

Well, well, well. I must post about my own stupidity here from Saturday.



Woke at 6am for my flight to Stansted. Had a light breakfast as I’m trying to shed a stone or two and got to airport and out to Tottenham Hale about 11ish. Decided against a fried breakfast and went and had a couple of pints. Yep, coz filling yourself full of pints really is a way to lose weight. Head to the ground around 1ish and stand down at level 1 listening to the musician with pints in hand. Figure I’ll get something to eat before the game. So two lads ask if they can stand in beside me. “Sure”, I said, “be my guest”. “Oh, is that an Irish accent,” says one of the lads who are from Dublin and we proceed to ‘have the craic’ until I realise it’s 2:55 so I need to get to my seat. Game happens, massive relief at the end and I’m meeting a mate from home after who is also at the game.



So I go across to where he is in the stadium and he’s drinking two pints at a time. Bunch more pints and the stadium closes. So we head to Number 8 and dance the night away till about 9:30 when the tequila, beer and no food take their toll and as much as I need to get home, he really needs to get home. Drag him up to WHL station and somehow get myself to Tottenham Hale and on the Stansted Express coz I’m staying out there and flying early Sunday.



Only I’m awoken by a fella throwing me off the train. “Ah bollox, I’ve slept through my stop”, thinks I. “Ah I’ll just wait and it’ll bring me back to Stansted”. Except it’s 12:30 and the train’s going nowhere. “Ah f**k, I’ll just stay in the station”, thinks I but just as I find a nice spot, they kick us out as they close for the night. So now, I’m stranded at Liverpool Street Station, next to a McDonalds frequented almost exclusively by people half my age and I don’t want to move too far as I don’t know the area and will get lost. So now I’m cold, tired, hungry and miserable and the hangover is setting in. All the while, I look like some sort of pervert to everyone else in the area given my advanced years relative to the rest of the people in the area.



Hung around till 4am before the first train. Got to Stansted and eventually got on my flight. Stomach is ropey. There’s a young lad next to me who throws his guts up on the plane. Last thing I need. I turn to look at him and he looks back, laughs and says “just getting sick”. No brick Sherlock.



Eventually get home at 11am Sunday and sleep pretty much until this morning. What a f**king idiot. This is why I don’t drink much anymore. But, any time you get 3 points is better than not getting 3 points regardless of everything else. COYS.

By all accounts, you simply 'lived in the moment'.

As they came along. That's been my standard operating procedure. And as a fellow Irishman (Bangor, Co. Down) it must be in our DNA.

By the sounds of it, there were a fair few good moments, some you might struggle to recall. Gives you leeway to build them up. It's what makes the Irish such great story tellers.

 

[K.D.D.D.D.Soc]

I like what you're saying. I might not have been so eager to agree a couple of years back before streaming services (DAZN, then FUBO TV) took over delivery of PL games to Canada. I quite enjoyed when one of our domestic cable sports networks (TSN, Sportsnet) delivered the games with the customary studio panel introducing the games and providing half-time and post-match analysis. For the most part, good people delivering good information. It was very enjoyable but we only saw what they provided within the time frame allotted for the telecast.

But now, these streaming services allow a much more elastic viewing experience. I can go back at my leisure and review any part of any game and see for myself who did what, how and when. It's fabulous. Just to have the luxury of replaying the build-up to the winning goal against Brighton was very enjoyable. Just to look at the whole sequence - Van de Ven to Davies to Maddison, ahead to Richarlison, on to Son and the cross for Johnson to stroke home the winner. I don't need an expert to tell me anything. My own eyes can see for themselves. And I can run it back again and again and maybe laugh at commentator Tony Jones saying how stoppage time is when "Spurs are at their most vulnerable" and we roar down the pitch and blow the bloody doors off.

Mark me down as fully converted.

Like you I replay certain incidents in the games to see what I may have missed and try to figure out what did happen rather than what I thought happened in real time (I'm often wrong in what I thought I saw) at the game I thought Richarlson had hit the post in the 1st goal. After my rant about TV presenter I watched highlights with sound on, something I never do in my own home just to see if I was being unfair, the first thing one of the commentators said was putting Vicario down in his last game, which I suppose some would say was a fair comment but it put my back up as it appeared he'd made his mind up and was ready to pounce on any error. This followed with lots of contradictory statements about both sides as the game went from end to end, the the obligatory warning that Spurs let lots of goals in late in the game and the ex pro explained how our winner came from us turning over possession when in fact it came from a freekick for offside and 7 first time passes. We all see the same thing differently but we're not all paid to be experts.

 

[braineclipse]

As usual Ange doesn't bullsh1t but calls it as it was: There was a lot I didn’t enjoy today. We were really poor in the first half. Some of that was Brighton are a very good side and very disciplined, well coached, and we lacked a real discipline and took some liberties..which was disappointing.

Definitely good to hear.

Quite some way off our best from earlier in the season, but I guess that's also to be expected. At least for this one we had real good periods that lasted quite a while. And as Ange said they're a good side and difficult to play against.

Hopefully some of our key players are getting closer to full match fitness now and we'll see those periods extend even further.

Quite a few similarities between them and us including defending high late in the game against us. Did end up costing them, but could also see how it worked for quite a while.