BushHillSpurs
Banned
Its funny but riddled with spelling mistakes.
Just don't wash any of them.
Pack them away, and use for the next big "must win" game
COYS
More than anything I think this highlights the difference in midfield. Parker and Dembele makes us very competitive in midfield. If not for his injury we would have Sandro in there who would have made us even more competitive.
I can't remember how many touches Parker was allowed to take before sliding the ball in to Lenon, but it was quite a few. Loads of space and time in a position like that to pick and time a pass to a runner is just terrible whatever way you look at it. Had our midfield given that kind of time to Wheelchair or Cazorla I have no doubt they would have played passes in to Walcott for example who would have given our defenders as much trouble, but our midfielders made sure that most of those through balls had to be played under pressure.
Song wasn't a great defensive midfielder imo, but at least he was a defensive midfielder. Arteta is a good playmaker, but not very good defensively. Ramsey is just a Welsh Jenas.
I don't think Song was a defensive midfielder full stop. He attacked far too much for a DM.
I don't think Song was a defensive midfielder full stop. He attacked far too much for a DM.
Please forgive me if this seems a little indulgent. I just need to get it out of my system!
In 1998 I paid my last visit to the old Wembley as I watched Bournemouth lose to Grimsby in some lower league cup final. I didn't really care much for the result, and only went because my girlfriend at the time was a Bournemouth girl. At least, she started the match as my girlfriend of two and a half years.... she actually chose my last ever visit to Wembley to tell me I was dumped, and as Grimsby lifted the trophy I was a blubbering mess. The only saving grace in it all was that I was tucked away at the very back of the upper tier, meaning it was unlikely the TV cameras would get footage of a "devastated Cherries fan".
Fast forward to 2012 and I'm back at Wembley for my first visit to watch club football and it's my own Spurs this time, against Chelsea. I'm married now (different girl, thankfully), we have a baby on the way and I tell myself what goes around comes around... this is my redemption. Life is good and, even if Spurs lose, I'll leave happy for the all the good things in my life. And anyway, we can't lose, surely? Chelsea are in disarray, we are on the up. It's Harry's year!
Even as I walked away from Wembley that April evening I told myself that things balance out eventually. I believe you have to take the sour with the sweet, that we as Spurs fans get to enjoy the glorious victories even more, because we have the tough times to contrast them with. Alas, the terrible semi final result wasn't the end.... what began at the Emirates and continued with Balotelli, eventually reached that dreadful climax in Munich. Chelsea were the first London club to win a Champions League, we felt like we had taken one step forward and two steps back. Despite the great football and many wins, it has been a tough year as a Spurs fan in many ways.
Slowly but surely, this season has seen us rise and the team have grown in so much confidence. We are now in as strong a position as last year but with one crucial difference: momentum. And so, as this North London derby approached I felt we stood at a threshold, again. A win would mean so, so much. It wouldn't be game over - time and time again us Spurs fans have to learn the hard way it can all be snatched away - but a seven point lead and a win so late in the season would really put Arsenal in their place.
I'm normally one of the folk who will do battle against the red line of death and try to get an Arsenal ticket when they go on sale to members. I think I've got one every year going back to 2008 actually. But this year was a bit different.... our little boy was born in November and so I've not been to the Lane since October. As much as I miss my monthly visits, I'm enjoying being a dad and the prospect of taking the lad to the Northumberland Road Kop when he's old enough. So I held back from applying for a ticket this time round, hoping to get back to Spurs for a game or two in the final run in.
However, on Friday night my wife decided she was going to take the chappie up to his grandparents for a week. Poor lad has been struggling a bit with eczema and she was struggling watching him all day while I was at work. I'd be left to get the DIY done in the meantime and also - and I quote - "to have a chance to relax a bit too". So straight onto the club website I went, perhaps there might be some Inter Milan tickets left? Sadly not, Inter at home sold out. Ah well, maybe a returned ticket? Nope. Just before I logged off the website I thought I'd have a look at possible returns for the Arsenal game. And lo and behold, Block 13 was orange!
Now, I've been here before: you click on the block, choose one ticket, then up flashes that message in a red box: "Sorry, there are not enough tickets to fulfil your request". Suggesting that if I wanted less than one ticket they could help me out. So I clicked refresh. "Sorry...". And again. Same result. And again, and again, about five times, and then.... BANG! Row 4, West Stand, £72.
As I travelled to White Hart Lane on Sunday, as I got closer and closer to the ground, I had a growing sense of this being our time, our match. My match! I've never ever felt like this before a game, that I was meant to be there. It was almost like being in a complete dream! No Manchester United fan, could ever fully appreciate the value of a single victory like we can. This is what you get when you have years in the wilderness. This is not about a trophy, this is about winning for the glory, for the pride. This was a win at the very heart and core of the club. This is what Danny Blanchflower was talking about.
I watched, twenty yards from Andre Villas-Boas, as our boys did us proud and simply out-fought Arsenal. I went nuts as we scored our two goals, sung my heart out as if it would be my last visit to the Lane ever, and when that whistle blew, hollered my adoration as each of those players left the pitch. I didn't care, this was more than just a win. This was huge, you could see it the way our players celebrated, you could see it the way the Arsenal players were utterly hacked off. This was big.... and I was there. I was meant to be there.
I have no shame in telling you that at about 6pm on Sunday afternoon, I cried for the second time in my life at a football match.
One of the best posts I have read here in years...thank you for writing this mate. I felt every word. =D>
Please forgive me if this seems a little indulgent. I just need to get it out of my system!
In 1998 I paid my last visit to the old Wembley as I watched Bournemouth lose to Grimsby in some lower league cup final. I didn't really care much for the result, and only went because my girlfriend at the time was a Bournemouth girl. At least, she started the match as my girlfriend of two and a half years.... she actually chose my last ever visit to Wembley to tell me I was dumped, and as Grimsby lifted the trophy I was a blubbering mess. The only saving grace in it all was that I was tucked away at the very back of the upper tier, meaning it was unlikely the TV cameras would get footage of a "devastated Cherries fan".
Fast forward to 2012 and I'm back at Wembley for my first visit to watch club football and it's my own Spurs this time, against Chelsea. I'm married now (different girl, thankfully), we have a baby on the way and I tell myself what goes around comes around... this is my redemption. Life is good and, even if Spurs lose, I'll leave happy for the all the good things in my life. And anyway, we can't lose, surely? Chelsea are in disarray, we are on the up. It's Harry's year!
Even as I walked away from Wembley that April evening I told myself that things balance out eventually. I believe you have to take the sour with the sweet, that we as Spurs fans get to enjoy the glorious victories even more, because we have the tough times to contrast them with. Alas, the terrible semi final result wasn't the end.... what began at the Emirates and continued with Balotelli, eventually reached that dreadful climax in Munich. Chelsea were the first London club to win a Champions League, we felt like we had taken one step forward and two steps back. Despite the great football and many wins, it has been a tough year as a Spurs fan in many ways.
Slowly but surely, this season has seen us rise and the team have grown in so much confidence. We are now in as strong a position as last year but with one crucial difference: momentum. And so, as this North London derby approached I felt we stood at a threshold, again. A win would mean so, so much. It wouldn't be game over - time and time again us Spurs fans have to learn the hard way it can all be snatched away - but a seven point lead and a win so late in the season would really put Arsenal in their place.
I'm normally one of the folk who will do battle against the red line of death and try to get an Arsenal ticket when they go on sale to members. I think I've got one every year going back to 2008 actually. But this year was a bit different.... our little boy was born in November and so I've not been to the Lane since October. As much as I miss my monthly visits, I'm enjoying being a dad and the prospect of taking the lad to the Northumberland Road Kop when he's old enough. So I held back from applying for a ticket this time round, hoping to get back to Spurs for a game or two in the final run in.
However, on Friday night my wife decided she was going to take the chappie up to his grandparents for a week. Poor lad has been struggling a bit with eczema and she was struggling watching him all day while I was at work. I'd be left to get the DIY done in the meantime and also - and I quote - "to have a chance to relax a bit too". So straight onto the club website I went, perhaps there might be some Inter Milan tickets left? Sadly not, Inter at home sold out. Ah well, maybe a returned ticket? Nope. Just before I logged off the website I thought I'd have a look at possible returns for the Arsenal game. And lo and behold, Block 13 was orange!
Now, I've been here before: you click on the block, choose one ticket, then up flashes that message in a red box: "Sorry, there are not enough tickets to fulfil your request". Suggesting that if I wanted less than one ticket they could help me out. So I clicked refresh. "Sorry...". And again. Same result. And again, and again, about five times, and then.... BANG! Row 4, West Stand, £72.
As I travelled to White Hart Lane on Sunday, as I got closer and closer to the ground, I had a growing sense of this being our time, our match. My match! I've never ever felt like this before a game, that I was meant to be there. It was almost like being in a complete dream! No Manchester United fan, could ever fully appreciate the value of a single victory like we can. This is what you get when you have years in the wilderness. This is not about a trophy, this is about winning for the glory, for the pride. This was a win at the very heart and core of the club. This is what Danny Blanchflower was talking about.
I watched, twenty yards from Andre Villas-Boas, as our boys did us proud and simply out-fought Arsenal. I went nuts as we scored our two goals, sung my heart out as if it would be my last visit to the Lane ever, and when that whistle blew, hollered my adoration as each of those players left the pitch. I didn't care, this was more than just a win. This was huge, you could see it the way our players celebrated, you could see it the way the Arsenal players were utterly hacked off. This was big.... and I was there. I was meant to be there.
I have no shame in telling you that at about 6pm on Sunday afternoon, I cried for the second time in my life at a football match.
Please forgive me if this seems a little indulgent. I just need to get it out of my system!
In 1998 I paid my last visit to the old Wembley as I watched Bournemouth lose to Grimsby in some lower league cup final. I didn't really care much for the result, and only went because my girlfriend at the time was a Bournemouth girl. At least, she started the match as my girlfriend of two and a half years.... she actually chose my last ever visit to Wembley to tell me I was dumped, and as Grimsby lifted the trophy I was a blubbering mess. The only saving grace in it all was that I was tucked away at the very back of the upper tier, meaning it was unlikely the TV cameras would get footage of a "devastated Cherries fan".
Fast forward to 2012 and I'm back at Wembley for my first visit to watch club football and it's my own Spurs this time, against Chelsea. I'm married now (different girl, thankfully), we have a baby on the way and I tell myself what goes around comes around... this is my redemption. Life is good and, even if Spurs lose, I'll leave happy for the all the good things in my life. And anyway, we can't lose, surely? Chelsea are in disarray, we are on the up. It's Harry's year!
Even as I walked away from Wembley that April evening I told myself that things balance out eventually. I believe you have to take the sour with the sweet, that we as Spurs fans get to enjoy the glorious victories even more, because we have the tough times to contrast them with. Alas, the terrible semi final result wasn't the end.... what began at the Emirates and continued with Balotelli, eventually reached that dreadful climax in Munich. Chelsea were the first London club to win a Champions League, we felt like we had taken one step forward and two steps back. Despite the great football and many wins, it has been a tough year as a Spurs fan in many ways.
Slowly but surely, this season has seen us rise and the team have grown in so much confidence. We are now in as strong a position as last year but with one crucial difference: momentum. And so, as this North London derby approached I felt we stood at a threshold, again. A win would mean so, so much. It wouldn't be game over - time and time again us Spurs fans have to learn the hard way it can all be snatched away - but a seven point lead and a win so late in the season would really put Arsenal in their place.
I'm normally one of the folk who will do battle against the red line of death and try to get an Arsenal ticket when they go on sale to members. I think I've got one every year going back to 2008 actually. But this year was a bit different.... our little boy was born in November and so I've not been to the Lane since October. As much as I miss my monthly visits, I'm enjoying being a dad and the prospect of taking the lad to the Northumberland Road Kop when he's old enough. So I held back from applying for a ticket this time round, hoping to get back to Spurs for a game or two in the final run in.
However, on Friday night my wife decided she was going to take the chappie up to his grandparents for a week. Poor lad has been struggling a bit with eczema and she was struggling watching him all day while I was at work. I'd be left to get the DIY done in the meantime and also - and I quote - "to have a chance to relax a bit too". So straight onto the club website I went, perhaps there might be some Inter Milan tickets left? Sadly not, Inter at home sold out. Ah well, maybe a returned ticket? Nope. Just before I logged off the website I thought I'd have a look at possible returns for the Arsenal game. And lo and behold, Block 13 was orange!
Now, I've been here before: you click on the block, choose one ticket, then up flashes that message in a red box: "Sorry, there are not enough tickets to fulfil your request". Suggesting that if I wanted less than one ticket they could help me out. So I clicked refresh. "Sorry...". And again. Same result. And again, and again, about five times, and then.... BANG! Row 4, West Stand, £72.
As I travelled to White Hart Lane on Sunday, as I got closer and closer to the ground, I had a growing sense of this being our time, our match. My match! I've never ever felt like this before a game, that I was meant to be there. It was almost like being in a complete dream! No Manchester United fan, could ever fully appreciate the value of a single victory like we can. This is what you get when you have years in the wilderness. This is not about a trophy, this is about winning for the glory, for the pride. This was a win at the very heart and core of the club. This is what Danny Blanchflower was talking about.
I watched, twenty yards from Andre Villas-Boas, as our boys did us proud and simply out-fought Arsenal. I went nuts as we scored our two goals, sung my heart out as if it would be my last visit to the Lane ever, and when that whistle blew, hollered my adoration as each of those players left the pitch. I didn't care, this was more than just a win. This was huge, you could see it the way our players celebrated, you could see it the way the Arsenal players were utterly hacked off. This was big.... and I was there. I was meant to be there.
I have no shame in telling you that at about 6pm on Sunday afternoon, I cried for the second time in my life at a football match.
One of the truest things ever written on this board.No Manchester United fan, could ever fully appreciate the value of a single victory like we can.
Please forgive me if this seems a little indulgent. I just need to get it out of my system!
In 1998 I paid my last visit to the old Wembley as I watched Bournemouth lose to Grimsby in some lower league cup final. I didn't really care much for the result, and only went because my girlfriend at the time was a Bournemouth girl. At least, she started the match as my girlfriend of two and a half years.... she actually chose my last ever visit to Wembley to tell me I was dumped, and as Grimsby lifted the trophy I was a blubbering mess. The only saving grace in it all was that I was tucked away at the very back of the upper tier, meaning it was unlikely the TV cameras would get footage of a "devastated Cherries fan".
Fast forward to 2012 and I'm back at Wembley for my first visit to watch club football and it's my own Spurs this time, against Chelsea. I'm married now (different girl, thankfully), we have a baby on the way and I tell myself what goes around comes around... this is my redemption. Life is good and, even if Spurs lose, I'll leave happy for the all the good things in my life. And anyway, we can't lose, surely? Chelsea are in disarray, we are on the up. It's Harry's year!
Even as I walked away from Wembley that April evening I told myself that things balance out eventually. I believe you have to take the sour with the sweet, that we as Spurs fans get to enjoy the glorious victories even more, because we have the tough times to contrast them with. Alas, the terrible semi final result wasn't the end.... what began at the Emirates and continued with Balotelli, eventually reached that dreadful climax in Munich. Chelsea were the first London club to win a Champions League, we felt like we had taken one step forward and two steps back. Despite the great football and many wins, it has been a tough year as a Spurs fan in many ways.
Slowly but surely, this season has seen us rise and the team have grown in so much confidence. We are now in as strong a position as last year but with one crucial difference: momentum. And so, as this North London derby approached I felt we stood at a threshold, again. A win would mean so, so much. It wouldn't be game over - time and time again us Spurs fans have to learn the hard way it can all be snatched away - but a seven point lead and a win so late in the season would really put Arsenal in their place.
I'm normally one of the folk who will do battle against the red line of death and try to get an Arsenal ticket when they go on sale to members. I think I've got one every year going back to 2008 actually. But this year was a bit different.... our little boy was born in November and so I've not been to the Lane since October. As much as I miss my monthly visits, I'm enjoying being a dad and the prospect of taking the lad to the Northumberland Road Kop when he's old enough. So I held back from applying for a ticket this time round, hoping to get back to Spurs for a game or two in the final run in.
However, on Friday night my wife decided she was going to take the chappie up to his grandparents for a week. Poor lad has been struggling a bit with eczema and she was struggling watching him all day while I was at work. I'd be left to get the DIY done in the meantime and also - and I quote - "to have a chance to relax a bit too". So straight onto the club website I went, perhaps there might be some Inter Milan tickets left? Sadly not, Inter at home sold out. Ah well, maybe a returned ticket? Nope. Just before I logged off the website I thought I'd have a look at possible returns for the Arsenal game. And lo and behold, Block 13 was orange!
Now, I've been here before: you click on the block, choose one ticket, then up flashes that message in a red box: "Sorry, there are not enough tickets to fulfil your request". Suggesting that if I wanted less than one ticket they could help me out. So I clicked refresh. "Sorry...". And again. Same result. And again, and again, about five times, and then.... BANG! Row 4, West Stand, £72.
As I travelled to White Hart Lane on Sunday, as I got closer and closer to the ground, I had a growing sense of this being our time, our match. My match! I've never ever felt like this before a game, that I was meant to be there. It was almost like being in a complete dream! No Manchester United fan, could ever fully appreciate the value of a single victory like we can. This is what you get when you have years in the wilderness. This is not about a trophy, this is about winning for the glory, for the pride. This was a win at the very heart and core of the club. This is what Danny Blanchflower was talking about.
I watched, twenty yards from Andre Villas-Boas, as our boys did us proud and simply out-fought Arsenal. I went nuts as we scored our two goals, sung my heart out as if it would be my last visit to the Lane ever, and when that whistle blew, hollered my adoration as each of those players left the pitch. I didn't care, this was more than just a win. This was huge, you could see it the way our players celebrated, you could see it the way the Arsenal players were utterly hacked off. This was big.... and I was there. I was meant to be there.
I have no shame in telling you that at about 6pm on Sunday afternoon, I cried for the second time in my life at a football match.