So much shite and piss on the grass after that even Sunderland, even child grooming Sunderland have declared their ground a condemned site and have made a formal complaint to the Mayor Of London demanding to know why so much London sewerage was dumped in Tyne and Wear last night.
Let’s start with Harry Kane. Because after all, he’s one of our own. One of the pivotal reasons as to why the Wycombe managed to take such outrageous liberties with us in the cup.
Anyone who has ever watched a game or played the game will know that successful passes are the lifeblood. Without them, you’re stuffed.
This isn’t up for debate. The world is round and without successful passes you’re stuffed.
7 (seven) successful passes the boy made. A further 5 (five) failed or off target. He lost all 3 (three) of the aerial duels he attempted and failed with the solitary take on he attempted.
On the strength of that little lot, he should have been paid by Sunderland, he did them more good.
Anyone who hadn’t fallen into a coma/self harmed to an extent they were admitted to A&E/or simply gone out into the cold night to look for cats to kick would have missed Eriksen was of course, lost in the melee of it all.
Busy wasn’t in it.
He played what felt like hundreds of successful passes, but only a handful of them weren’t lateral balls. Only a handful of his successful passing went vaguely forwards.
The dozen or so balls that did? They were off target or intercepted.
So Kane the mouth-breathing plinth was stood waiting for a bus that was never coming.
Pitiful.
Dele Alli, the legend in his own lunchtime made a contribution almost as modest/useless contribution. He made about two dozen (24) successful passes.
Of which 50% were lateral or backwards.
Son was busier than Dele, but he passed backwards so frequently he could have been confused for a bi-curious rugby player with malnutrition.
But no, Sunderland parked the bus, the Earth is flat and we’re the best run club in Europe. So much better than the 90s, eh? Goodness me that Tunnel Club looks fascinating, whatever will they think of next? In fact, the acoustics in the new place are rumoured to be so good in the new stadium that rumour has it you can people chewing with their mouths open in the Cheese from the East Stand car park. Crikey, what a rare aural treat that will be. Anyway, I digress, the things that flicker across the old brain when one is ironing one’s front row tickets for Wembley stadium (£5 w*nker rate).
Let me break some very old news to you.
Poch isn’t going to achieve anything of any consequence without a] some fresh meat b] some fresh tactics. This side will be out the Europa cup quicker than you can say ‘invaluable experience for next season’.
We’re not going to win the league, but we will probably finish plus or minus the usual arsebiscuitery in the top 4 or 5 and we shall do so by playing mostly rather grim football that isn’t worth the price of admission.
I’m not angry, I’m fed up, I’m not fed up that we won’t win the league. I’m fed up because THFC are too cowardly to make that next step up the ladder.
All the scintillating net spend stuff means nothing at all. Less than nothing. I follow a football club, not a bloody hedge fund.
