After allowing myself to be sucker-punched into believing we might have an outside chance of challenging for the league ahead of last season’s opener against Aston Villa, it’s almost a relief to settle back into the pre-Pochettino mindset of not really having a clue how the new season will play out.Continue reading “Suck It And See”
Although I’m the first to admit that parts of this season have felt about as interesting as watching Blur fall asleep, there’s an element of frustration that we face our final game just as Mourinho seems to have found a way to make the most of the talent at our disposal. Continue reading “The Longish Bloeug Goodbye to This Longest of Seasons”
Our penultimate game, then, and it’s nice that CL football is still to be fought for by at least one participant.
Personally, I’d rather Leicester and Chelsea were the two teams who secured it: We’ve already seen with Chelsea through Ziyech and Werner that they’re going to spend money no matter what, and we’ve seen with Leicester through the sale of Kante after their title-winning season, Maguire last summer, and talk of Chilwell heading off this time around, that they’re likely to lose players to ‘elite’ clubs no matter what. Continue reading “A Trophy, A Trophy, My Kingdom For a…”
Well, if you couldn’t enjoy Sunday’s performance, at least you could enjoy the result, and the fact we’re now back above Arsenal, who, hopefully, will now go on to perform their recent late season trick of attracting plaudits when nothing much matters and falling away once it does. Continue reading “Born to Run, Pet”
The stats make dispiriting reading: 62% possession but zero shots on target away to lowly Bournemouth; despite the heroics of this squad nearly achieving so very much last season, this sort of performance really doesn’t bode well for Jose Mourinho Mauricio Pochettino or suggest Spurs will achieve anything special ever again through the rest of 16/17. Continue reading “It’s The Woolwich…”
Here we go again, then; after an interlull-like 9 days between West Ham and Sheffield United, we face our third match in seven days ahead of better rested Woolwich wandering our way on Sunday afternoon. Continue reading “Left Seven Sisters for a room in a seaside shack…”
Although there were a multitude of factors that caused Thursday’s performance to be ultimately abysmal, had we defended even close to the minimum expected of a supposedly top-six side, we’d have won that match at least 0-1: As tempting as it is to wag a furious finger at VAR, it wasn’t PGMOL’s favourite new toy that stuck the ball in the back of our net three times. Continue reading “Sticky Toffee Puddings”
Even though hindsight now says it was always coming, I still find it hard to believe that a mere nine days after Pochettino sent Spurs out to play tonight’s opponents at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium for what turned out to be the last ever time, he was toast and Mourinho was jam. Continue reading “Shuffling On”
In this weirdest of weird seasons, we’ve somehow come through the last ten PL fixtures with six more points than we managed from the equivalent fixtures last season, with draws at home to United and away to Watford and Burnley mixed in with the home win over City all improving on defeats under Pochettino. Continue reading “Wham Rap”
Had I got around to writing the bloeug for tonight’s game back on 13th March when the PL was officially suspended, I’m sure I would have looked back at recent defeats to Leipzig, Chelsea, Wolves, Norwich – that solitary draw against Burnley – and, of course, that right proper Red Bulling in the return leg to Leipzig – and opened with something like ‘injuries, blah, bad luck, blah, more random excuses, blah’, and then closed with something like ‘blah-blah-blah but at least it can’t get any worse’. Continue reading “Return of the Prodigal Spurs”
When we went into lock-down I treated myself to a subscription of The Athletic as I feared I would have a lot more time on my hands to read and the usual staples of whatever Flat Oeufers are falling out about, the comments section of just about any article on Daily Mail Online, Football365 or the dark place where many of us on here first met would not be enough to keep me going.
Not being furloughed, though, and not being self-aware enough to realise I do most of my browsing while travelling to and from work on public transport or in the toilet while ‘at’ work, I’ve been pretty amazed at what an almost complete waste of about thirty quid it’s been so far, given I’ve spent most of my football-less time rushed off my feet working, drinking or queuing to get into Sainsbury’s in order to buy my mother-in-law obscure food items such as pickled beetroot and something called self-raising flour (?). Continue reading “Best Elevenses”
With apologies for knocking another great tribute to the great Jimmy Greaves off the top of the bloeug, this week’s ridiculous (and possibly incorrect) stat is that if we win all our remaining PL games 1-0 and Liverpool lose all theirs 2-0 and no one between us gains more than twenty points before the end of the season, we’ll miss out on the title by a single goal.
Now wouldn’t that be difficult to stomach. Continue reading “Slightly Unhappy Ray’s Vesicles Away”
First off, if you’ve not read the previous article – Greavsie – by novelist, journalist and flat oeufer Ashley Collie yet, then don’t waste your time reading yet another pre-match ramble from me. Go and read that instead, then jump straight to the comments section below this and share all your memories of Greavsie. Continue reading “It’s Villa(nelle) in the Rain”
Coming from a long line of miserable failures, I was definitely brought up to glory in the failings of others rather than dwell on my own, a trait that has served me well as a Spurs fan since Des Walker nodded home our last major trophy winning goal way back in May 91.
So it was with an element of delight that I began to look forward to stuttering Manchester City’s visit this afternoon, considering the way their so-called messiah of a manager has seemingly allowed their form to drop off a cliff following last season’s unprecedented domestic treble.
Then I made the mistake of comparing our relative stats.
Lloris (C), Aurier, Alderweireld, Sanchez, Tanganga, Winks, Gedson, Lo Celso, Dele, Son, Lucas
Subs: Gazza, Foyth, Jan, Dier, Ndom, Sess, Lamela
None of this blah-blah-blah rubbish from me, dumb-dumbs.
COME ON YOU SPURS!
Pub-quiz time, dumb-dumbs:
For the same number of points as we’ve won against Liverpool these past two seasons, give me the answer to these ones:
What do Man City, Arsenal and Watford have in common? Continue reading “Abandon All”
As weird as it seems to be buoyed by defeat and deflated by victory, that’s how our last two performances have left me, because I thought we fought well in the final thirty against Liverpool but looked all too predictably frail in the final thirty against Middlesbrough. Continue reading “Watch Out: It’s Early Dors!”
Ah, I’ve been dreading this day for a while now: Liverpool have somehow become the equivalent of old next door neighbours, who, little more than two years ago, didn’t have two pennies to rub together compared to us, yet today are scheduled to drop back in on the old place to film a special segment of Carpool Karaoke with James Corden before jetting off back to the high-life in Beverley Hills.
How the hell is it them and not us? Continue reading “Mourning Glory”
Here we go, then, Flat Oeufers, the start of the first year Tottenham Hotspur have entered since 2008 where the destruction of our old stadium and the development of our new one won’t be a major feature of our ongoing plans, with early mentions of The Northumberland Development Project first surfacing in the press around April of that year (well, according to Wikipedia, anyway), two months after we won the League Cup under Juande Ramos. Continue reading “The Hangover Part 4”
Here we are facing our last game of 2019, then, with Jose Mourinho about to join Harry Redknapp, George Graham, Terry Venables and Keith Burkinshaw as managers who’ve had the honour of selecting Tottenham sides to see out a decade since Bill Nicholson became the only manager in our history to achieve the feat twice, in 59 and 69, with five of his eight major trophies lifted in-between. Continue reading “Off Ready When I Come Home…”