One – I really must stop looking forward so much to friendlies. My naive optimism is perhaps worse than ever on the heels of a largely unsatisfying World Cup. Either way, these games are even worse than those crappy UEFA Cup matches with late afternoon kick offs some of us braved.
But the eagle was pretty good. I’ll give them that. Perhaps Levy could draw inspiration from this when we get the gates open to our Naming Rights extravaganza. A small roped off stage with a magnificent cock in it. The trouble is, with all the talons and ancient warring spurs attached, it would still effectively be a big chicken.
Two – A cunning plan or just coincidence that while we were glued to ESPN we were also aware of another game taking place in Ipswich. A Spurs XI. As ‘not much’ was going on in the televised game, they teased us with little mentions of the other game. But a quick check of the squad sheet then the scoreline revealed what we probably weren’t missing much there either.
Whatever happened to the old style preseason XI games? A smattering of celebrities and ‘Legends’ always went a long way to getting me along to the affairs. A fading rock star, a weather man, a Blue Peter presenter.
Three – I am trying to get a picture of what sort of football we’ll be playing come the season’s start. And I’m finding it very difficult to summon up images of a Champions League grade outfit based on the games we’ve watched so far. Flashes of loveliness from Modric and Bale have been countered with fairly glum shifts from too many others.
Hang on, it’s just come to me. Picture this …Ainsley Harriot tied to a stake being mauled by a fighting cock whilst shouting ‘Oh Lordy’ and ‘What do you think, audience?’ as he’s shredded in the most horrific manner just for our pre-math delectation.
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