I had to attend a funeral yesterday afternoon. It was a horrible day, wet, cold and bleak. And standing on some little patch of desolate countryside in the northern reaches of the borough of Enfield as poor Uncle Charlie was laid to rest, all was fairly miserable and gloomy.

Then I came home and watched Spurs and it was much much worse. It was the burial of hope. It was the funeral of any remaining aspirations. The death of any chance we may have had to delude ourselves that we were in some way contenders.

It was serious reminder of our deficiencies as a team. All of our deficiencies. Which may take up so much space and time to list it may run to several volumes over a few months. Though it can all be summed up really in just two words: Totally and Depressing. Furthermore it doesn’t matter how you arrange those two words; works both ways. And if you separate those words into their component letters they form the anagram: ‘dire fucking incompetent rubbish’. I was never much cop at anagrams.

But to help Andre Villas Boas, as he obviously needs loads of help, there are three main areas which he needs to address:

1. We are shit
2. We are shit
3 We are more shit.

Once he can resolve these fundamental issues the surely it won’t be long before we’re threatening for a top place.

We have an awful defense, hence 5 goals against us. Yes we have injuries in that department but having spent 115 million quid on players this summer we should have sufficient cover.

We cannot score goals. Suarez has scored more goals than Spurs in the league this season. And he’s foreign. Our foreigners simply cannot score. Nor our Brits. Yesterday, not one attempt on target. Not one. 93 minutes of football by zillion pound players and no-one could make the goalie work.
Our midfield is slow, predictable and unimaginative. Otherwise they’re great. We lack the pace that you need and the one-touch passing game that is simply essential in the modern game. A three touch passing game sounds much better but in fact it isn’t. Especially when the third of those touches generally gives the ball back to the opposition.

Perhaps worst of all, there’s no excitement in our game; none whatsoever. Just funereal depression.
I can’t even enjoy Arsenal’s defeat at Manchester City; its that bad.
Ok, well just a little.

Positives we can take from yesterday…
hmmm…
errrrr…

Well, amazingly we’re still only 2 wins off a top four place, that’s positive.
We can’t hit a barn door from 3 yards, that’s good for the barn door.
And… errrr… of course… there’s always… hmmm…

Worst of all is that horrible feeling of wasted opportunity. We cashed in on Gareth Bale, a massive windfall, and apparently have squandered the lot, like Nigella’s assistants.

But fear not; all is not lost. Just when you thought there was nothing in the world to ever make you happy again, Christian Ronaldo, that epitome of modesty and humility, has opened a museum in his native Madeira, The Museum of Christiano Ronaldo. And it looks brilliant. There’s pictures of Ronaldo, waxworks of Ronaldo, tributes to Ronaldo and all his trophies. You can buy toilet paper that he has actually used, get a framed empty hair-gel tube, its brilliant. Can’t wait to go.

Happy fucking Monday

A xxxx