Lila is 7 today. She’s (absolutely nobody’s) April fool. She’s so bright she’s found a way to monetise losing teeth. Her first of which fell out yesterday. She was duly compensated by the ‘tooth fairy’. And has been sitting in front of the mirror with a pair of pliers since then adding up her potential gains. Ok, maybe not the pliers. I would.

So that’s massive excitement, birthday, first baby tooth departure and she’s flying off to Florida to see Mickey Mouse this very day. Which should hopefully act as some compensation for her going to see Spurs on Saturday. Poor child. Social Services should offer guidelines.

Because Spurs were, by all accounts, both professional and fan-based: total shit. Appalling. An agonising game against ‘easy’ (they’re always ‘easy’ until kick off) opponents, which Spurs, eventually, didn’t so much ‘manage to win’, as ground their opposition down to lose. At the ‘11th hour’. Well, the 86th minute. Yaaaayyyy!!! We won!!! But at what emotional cost? This is where all those ‘mental health issues’ start.

But if an 86th minute winner is not late enough for you, you should have gone to Brentford to see Manchester United (remember them? Used to be a ‘big team’, arguably ‘the biggest in the world’, now they’re hoping to stay above Brighton so they might overtake Aston Villa). United scored in the 96th minute of an until then goalless game. Only to have Brentford equalise in the 99th minute. Such minutes simply didn’t exist 3 years ago. I don’t’ know where they actually get them from. You can’t just manufacture time, can you?

The funniest result of the weekend, though probably not for residents of Tower Hamlets, or those with sympathies for them, was at St James’ Park. Where West Ham took a 3-1 lead against the Geordie Saudis, and Moyes was actually smiling and smugness and arrogance was all over the pitch, wearing claret and blue. But then things changed. Personally I reckon a text came in from Mohammed Bin Salman himself, threatening to cut the right feet off the entire team if victory was not immediately forthcoming! Which, oddly, it was. 4-3 to Newcastle. Shame on West Ham. Not shame ‘for’ West Ham because they’re horrible.

And then came ‘the match of the season’ as it was cracked up to be. As Pep Guardiola called it: ‘the final!!!!’, even though we don’t have Premier League ‘finals’. Liverpool had beaten brighten in the earlier kick-off to go top. So when Manchester City and Arsenal strutted out on the Etihad grass, it was a kind’a ’winner takes all’ scenario, with the winner going top. And it was the perfect match up between the two best teams of the moment, a definite ‘goal fest’ in the making, a game to define all the glories of attacking football. What actually happened 90 minutes of paint drying, duller than dishwater mutual neutralisation which had me asleep within minutes and with nothing worthy to bother awakening from my slumber for. For entertainment Watford Leeds was in a different league. Ok, they are in a different league, but you get the point.

Happy Easter Monday. Jesus rose up from the dead. Spurs only have to rise above Aston Villa. Which would you put your money on?

A xxxx