Sunday Sermon

My increasing intolerance towards just about everything spilled out earlier this week when I harrumphed at Mde de Hotspur, ‘I really don’t like doing things I don’t like doing.’

Our tight lipped, ruddy faced supremo hasn’t been in the news much of late. So almost to compensate for this we got a tour de force from Arry in the last ever edition of the News Of The Screws. I’ve spoiled it now, but try reading the interview imaging that Modders is the one providing the quotes.

“It’s a great job. You would have to be a fool not to do a good job at Chelsea, with those players.”

“You walk into the dressing room and look around and see great players, leaders like John Terry, Frank Lampard, Didier Drogba.

“It would be hard to fail – they will be bang there when the trophies are handed out.”

Arry needs to be whisked in for one of those special, one to one’s that Levy so generously gave Modders. So he understands our position. I’m a realist. I’ve said it before the Tottingham faithful are a tough crowd. Possibly one of the worst. I’ve been at The Lane when we were so unhappy we couldn’t even be bothered to boo. But Arry needs to stop staring at what the person on the table next to him is eating – as he pushes his own food ruefully about his plate – and try acting like a flippin’ grown up.

Arry’s stock as a man motivator is in free fall. West Am & Pompey pal, Defoe has been a complete and utter flop. Nobody’s interested in how fab Fat Fwank is looking.

We have arguably one of our own best players in a generation feeling a tad deflated after a failed escape bid and what does the manager do? Join him in a Cheatski love in.  How good life and freedom would taste on the other side of the wire. Nobody made either of them sign for us. No claims of duress have been made to the best of my knowledge.

I’m not a religious person –  although I do talk to God everyday in my way – and I know for a fact; he’s told me he hates whiners. Whiners will not be inheriting the earth.

Now ex-News Of The Screws journo Neil Ashton has spent the last good few days whining. Whining that his employer has binned him. Ashton is one of several hundred people at the NOTS who was riding on the coat tails of salacious front page headlines.

Oh, I’m sorry. Am I treading on Nelly Welly’s sensibilities there? Overlooking his stellar contribution to football journalism? How terribly remiss of me. Can someone please get it touch with Brian Glanville and Hunter Davies and tell them they never existed. Thank you so much.

I’d put money on your average punter never having heard of Ashton and the bulk of the other hacks before the advent of Twitter. Given exclusive access to clubs, players and never ending supply of complimentary tea and biscuits these guys manage to churn out stuff  a semi literate 12 year old could provide.

Ashton tell us he’s ‘frustrated, hurt and angry.’ I bet you are mush. Someone swiping a free drink from your hand is just as galling as having one you paid for taken.

You were working for a morally bankrupt organization that was breaking the law relentlessly in order to sell newspapers. And now you’re facing the bleak prospect of having to get a job based on your own work opposed to coining it off the back of a household name.

So the lesson of the day is that there really is little quite as dull as other people’s woes. You’re not happy, look at why and change what you’re doing. Whining about it is not only boring; it’s utterly pointless.

‘I really don’t like doing things I don’t like doing’. I said.

She replied, ‘Bless you love, have you only just noticed?”