We Genuinely Don’t Know What We’re Doing

Morning.

What an uninspired load of old tosh. For those of you with any Champions League related memorabilia such as Investec shirts or match programmes etc I suggest you put them somewhere safe as you may have inadvertently stumbled upon a collector’s item.

You tell me.

We are linked with every striker in Europe with two feet and pulse. Our noble leader Redschnapps actually went as far as telling us that he had a chairman who was pushing him to splash out.

What we got was the equivalent of a man throwing himself on his own sword and then as the blade sinks through him – he decides to take – an Asprin. Charlie Adam?  For the love of God, who’s brainwave was this?

This top of the range, executive class donkey was bought from Rangers for half a million quid. Yes he’s had a cracking season. At Blackpool. Blackpool. Rusted fairground rides, white dog muck, unfunny ‘adult’ novelty gifts, racist comics, people living on chips, donkey rides, varicose veins, dripping ice creams, Blackpool. Blackpool.

Levy & Co are culpable here. As the Van der Vaart deal demonstrated, you let Arry do the tapping up when it comes to garbage like Scott Parker, but when you want to land a big fish you need an adult to help you reel it in.

This window was exciting for a number of clubs and a variety of reasons. It reflected the lack of confidence that’s currently doing the rounds. Only Manchester United and Arsenal feel that they can hold a steady course with their current crew.  Cheatski and Liverpool had to trade. They had to.

And I fully believe that Tottenham were in the very same position.

Are we waiting for Defoe to ‘bed in’? For Crouch to find his groove? The Russian is the closest thing we have to a top notch striker and Arry won’t play him because he doesn’t really rate him.

He doesn’t rate him because he can’t relate to him. When he talks to him, the boy just looks back at him. Occasionally smiling. I can picture it. Arry turning to Bondy and muttering, ‘I can’t get frew to ‘im.’

Do we need a Director of Football? Do we need someone who can scout decent players in Europe without literally having his trousers pulled down and his watch and credit cards stolen? Someone who speaks a version of English that humans born outside the sound of Bow Bells can actually understand?

If the rest of this season was a movie it would be called, Day Of The Triffics.

Get ready for a lot of hoofing and a slip down the table. Irrespective of Bale, it just isn’t possible for Spurs to sustain the positives they’ve had with the current squad. This isn’t a delayed rant and rave after the Fulham debacle, this a wimper from a guy who’s depressed  that we were so close, but in the final analysis lacked the gumption to see the job through.