I like to read. I read books, I read newspapers, I read magazines, but only if they come with newspapers, and I read stuff online. But my favourite ‘read’ is after Spurs win. Or even if they don’t ‘win’ in any normally accepted meaning of ‘winning’ but it feels like they did anyway. And I’ve been reading about last night all morning and intend to continue until at least Saturday. Having only just finished reading about the Arsenal game last Saturday. My cup runneth over. Not that we’ve won a cup.

Everyone loves Spurs. Ok, let me reign that in a bit. I love Spurs. Spurs fans generally love Spurs and a few others do too. Obviously not Chelsea fans (hateful and spiteful), West Ham fans (ugly and racist) or Arsenal fans (jealous). But ‘neutrals’ love the way Spurs play because its so gorgeous to watch. And when we play in Europe, then all those ‘neutrals’ can fish out their old, blue-n-white, Gareth Bale scarves, dig the lily-white bobble hats out of the ski-wear cupboard and get on board. Because in those games we’re representing England. The whole nation. From the Prime Minister and the Queen to a bunch of boozy, overweight rugby league fans from Wigan.

And how’d that go last night?

Well let me illuminate, illustrate, demonstrate and possibly hyperventilate over the details. Because God is in the details. Or the devil. Never sure which, not convinced there’s much difference.

We played the mighty Juventus. Not just top of the Italian league but the team no-one scores against. They’re Italians so they’re filthy dirty, cynical as fuck and cheat for all they’re worth. Pulling shirts, kicking ankles, diving to the ground every 3 minutes. It ain’t beautiful but it gets the job done. No-one has scored a goal past them since December. The goalie, the wonderful Buffon, hasn’t personally conceded since November. Ya get the picture; it ain’t easy to score goals in Turin.

So we had the best possible start and conceded a goal after one minute. 10 minutes later they scored again. 2-0 down against the hardest team to score against and we’re looking shaky. “This could end 5-nil!!!” said the pundits, “15-nil!!!!”.

And with ‘olde Spurs’ it would have been. But this weren’t them. This was my boys. This was the stronger, quicker, more resilient, pull-yer-socks-up, go-for-it, a-man’s-gotta-do, new-fangled, cliche-ridden Spurs of now. So they did the seemingly impossible and scored a goal. No prizes for guessing; Harry Kane. Then, later in the game, the equaliser from Christian Eriksen. At which point Spurs were totally dominant, unfazed, unflappable and brilliant. Even to my impartial eyes.

2 ‘away’ goals to bring home and the second leg all square and at Wembley.

Frikkin awesome.

Happy Valentine’s Day

A xxxx