As per this blog neither Levy or Pochettino have an issue with Serge Aurier and the boy is very much on his way to Tottenham.
The emotional distress being caused to the socially stunted here is something to behold though.
Marcos Alonso got pissed up, flipped a car and killed a female passenger. I don’t recall a single Spurs fan moaning about that before we played Chelsea last weekend.
Then there is of course the absolute swamp of apocryphal anecdotes describing in graphic detail what footballers have got up to in their own time. I have enough material to win instant super injunctions from several players who are household names.
In an ideal world footballers behaved like decent human beings, but surely in an ideal world, human beings should act like decent human beings?
For me, I like my football in splendid isolation. No LGBT flags, no black armbands, no minutes silence for someone I have never heard of has snuffed it, no round of applause because some poor little mite has cancer. Not interested.
Fans seeking to police football, are simply looking to inflict their own desperations upon the rest of us.
These bleeding hearts actually took to social media to share this with the world…
We’ve agreed personal terms with Aurier and I’ll be delighted to see him in the Lilywhite. Just like I’m delighted to see my taxi pick me up from the pub.
You see, I don’t know who’s been sent to run me home. He could be the most abominable creature on the planet. As long as he gets me home okay, what more am I supposed to do other than pay him and thank him?
Perhaps in future I should start grilling taxi drivers to see if they are suitable, and if I suspect that they don’t meet my high moral standards I can arrange for a sincere apology, before they partake in a program that will aid rescind their dubious ways.
