This is a truly monumental day. Firstly because we’re having some new carpets fitted, but also because it is the Final of the Europa League. In Bilbao. Tonight. Between Manchester United and the mighty, the wonderful, the truly superlative Tottenham Hotspur. Unfortunately, this season, most of the ‘superlatives’ have been on the wrong end of the record books. Most worstest season ever. Most games lost. Most shit ever seen during 90 minutes at White Hart Lane. But if there was one team who actually disappointed everybody with an equivalent consistency of uselessness, it was Manchester United. Leaving both of these ‘massive’ teams sitting in the ‘just avoided relegation’ zone.

And yet they managed to reach a major European final. How is this even possible?

Well, at this point in an otherwise totally hopeless season of tragedy; neither team cares how they actually arrived in Bilbao for a massive final. The winners of which, it is estimated, will get, along with entry to next year’s Champions League, approximately £100million. Nothing to be scoffed at. Particularly for 2 teams desperate for a ‘re-build’. Were all the other teams in Europe just rubbish? Or did these two finalists just raise their own games massively from the dross they managed at weekends in the league?

We neither know, nor care. We are where we are. Which happens to be Bilbao. In a fabulous event. So we’re allowed to get philosophical about it.

Both Spurs and Man U have the capability to win this game in great style. Equally, both have the capability to embarrass themselves and their fans tragically.

In the 1970s and 80s Spurs won what was then ‘this cup’, called the Fairs Cup, twice. The finals, for some reason, were 2-legged affairs. And I was at the home leg both times to witness the glory. We had pitch invasions in those days, so we invaded the pitch. What else you gonna do?

In my head, judging by recent… and not so recent… everything, Spurs simply cannot win this (or any) match. But, its safer to be a pessimist. Causes less pain. So I’m fully prepared for total disappointment.

But there’s a little ‘niggle’ of optimism, a little seedy thing, somewhere between my left ventricle and my testicles, which just keeps saying, ‘yeah, but what if…’?

Its all very very exciting,

Happy Final Day

A xxxx