And it came to pass, that a football team from London (previous 21 London team’s visits, including Spurs,have failed to win) went to Manchester and by the grace of all that is holy, they came away with a win. Amen.

Not only a win. We also got 3 points. You do when you win. Its… never mind. And we came away with a clean sheet. Them’s rare, particularly at Old Trafford where referees traditionally ‘look benevolently’ at the home side. But we came away with so much more. We came away with a belief, and, for some of us, with the realisation that in the team playing last night, there is no ‘dead wood’, no player you’re not sure of, no-one who makes you shudder. Every one a fucking Maserati.

It was indeed the game of two halves. Man United came out all guns a’blazing in the first half and for 20 minutes we looked shell-shocked. But with Jan Vertongen’s class and Belgium compatriot Romelu Lukaku’s incompetence, we held it together to go in 0-0, with great relief, at half time.

And during that break something happened. Two things happened, in fact. One was Morinho putting the reins on his team, pulling back the flamboyance, organising what had been a bit chaotic, even though great to watch, other than for the nail-biting Spurs fans, who were unhappy. And the second thing was Mauricio Pochettino, bless his little Argentinian soul, did ‘something’ to Spurs. In a mere 15 minutes he managed to transform them from lacklustre and unconfident into the best team on the planet.

We were sharper, more aggressive, more organised, quicker. The back four soldified as Toby Alderweireld, after swallowing a can of spinach, turned back into the absolute best centre back in the world. Ironically, the one Morinho was desperate to buy in the transfer window but wasn’t allowed. He was deemed ‘too expensive’. Though 50 mil looked a bargain after the way he played yesterday. He missed nothing and then, after dispossessing, distributed the ball like Andrea Pirlo. The classiest player on the pitch.

But football’s not all about defence. And we suddenly started attacking like Spurs. Ok, Man United’s defence was as poor as ours was brilliant and they left some massive spaces open for us to exploit. Harry Kane scored his first Old Trafford goal. In August. That breaks every hoodoo ever. But then up stepped tiny little Lucas Moura who’d been a bit pesky all night, fast and nippy and somewhat Brazillian. And he turned into an unmarkable, unplayable superstar. He looked like Hazard, like (all bow) Messi even as he just bounced off tackles, shrugged off defenders and added a couple of fantastic goals to his tally.

Spurs failure to buy in the summer suddenly appeared cured by a re-birth of a player we bought last January. More evidence of the magnificent ‘Pochettino effect’. And if that effect is defined as taking underperforming players and bringing out levels of ‘very best’ they didn’t even know they had, then sadly, the Morinho effect is the exact opposite.

What a win. What a game. What a… what a… what a…

Amazingly happy Tuesday

A xxxx