There’s bad weeks, bad weeks, and then this week. Holy shit. However, due to reporting constraints imposed upon me by the International Board of People Wot make up shit and present it as news, I can’t actually give a full report of the Sunak/Murty affair, until the Inland Revenue, the CIA and Tescos Clubcards give me expressed permission to fabricate something nasty. Not that I could possibly make up anything nastier or more sordid than what they’ve done. And in case you’re in any doubts, this is the most vicious hatchet-job ever perpetrated on a serving politician. The timing, the extent of it and the amazing details of so much international financial and tax arrangements are an onslaught of positively Putinian proportions.

So I need another bad week. Something different. Suffering of even greater magnitude than that of our Chancellor and his Mrs. And there is just such a tale. The also tragic and devastating woes of Arsenal football Club. And if, after you learn of the events unfolding over the last 7 days in Emirate-land, N7, your eyes are still dry, then YOU HAVE NO HEART. Even the eyes of the most ardent of Spurs fans will be greatly moistened. But possibly from laughter. Which is cruel. Yet totally understandable.

Before last weekend, the mighty Arsenal were on a wave of victories. Which had left them comfortably in 4th place in the league, a good 3 points above Spurs with a superior goal difference. In fact, according to Arsenal fans, with superior EVERYTHING. Spurs, beat Newcastle 5-1 with style, class, aplomb and other words meaning ‘fuckin brilliant!!!’ Thus did Spurs overtake Arsenal in the table, on goal difference.

But Arsenal went to Crystal Palace, intent on reclaiming their rightful place. But played the wrongful game and fucked up royally, losing 3-nil. And then… yesterday happened!

Arsenal played first. An ‘easy game’ against Brighton, a team great to watch but poor at actually winning the games they tend to dominate. But yesterday they did win. Some say ‘rather easily’, I make no judgments. Unless I have to.

So the stage was set as Spurs kicked off, later, at Villa Park. Where Stevie Gerrard had instructed his team, via an interpreter, to play some football but first and foremost KICK THE SHIT OUT OF SPURS!!! And they headed the manager’s instructions. It was horrible, nasty and violent. But my heroic team stood the test and ran out the first half 1-nil up due to a fab goal from an even fabber defensive cock-up. And then came the second half. By which time Villa had become tired due to all the kicking, punching and elbowing they’d done in the first half and Spurs just… just… just… aaaaahhhhhhh…

We were so good, so cool, so clinical, so… brilliant. The once again goalless Harry Kane was behind absolutely everything we did. Son was magnificent. And Kulusevski was well worth looking up how to spell his name properly. Outstanding player scoring an outstanding goal.

So now we’re 3 points clear in 4th place, with a big goal difference. And I know 2 things: the season ain’t over; and we are Spurs. Neither of which fills me with total confidence, but my my we look good.

Hope this week’s better. For Rishi.

A xxxx