This was me yesterday. Ok, this is just a random photo of the genre: ‘guided injections’. But imagine that victim as me, without the hat, and the jab was in my shoulder. Or jabs, really. The table rotates and raises and the big arm thing moves around, all by magic. I felt like a Ford Fiesta in the paint spray factory.

There’s two things in life I dread. Snakes and injections. We should get that straight. Fortunately there were no snakes on view in Harrow yesterday when I had my injection. There were probably snakes around (there’s ALWAYS snakes everywhere, that’s why we need to check under the bed, behind the sofa, in my shoes, my garden, EVERYWHERE!!!) but I didn’t see any.

Ok, one down, just the needle issue to contend with. More difficult. When you’ve gone for an injection. I realised that.

I survived. That’s all I can say. I survived. Bravely. Didn’t cry. Didn’t take my comfort toy. She was working. And the ‘injection’ turned out to be about 14 jabs of local anaesthetic followed by several of cortisone.

And although its a bit sore (no tennis today, no tai chi; banned) I slept for the first time in months without waking up in agony. Ahhhhhhhhhh. I love injections.

Meanwhile its the weekend and therefore its more football. They do that. In between the endless scandals and sleaze and corruption-in-our-beautiful-game stories and inquiries, they play the odd game just to redress the balance. But to be honest there’s only one match worthy of mention this weekend. Tomorrow. 4pm. Spurs playing Manchester City. Top-of-the-table battle. 1st versus 2nd. Could’a been 1st vs 3rd but Everton couldn’t beat Palace last night.

So I’m gonna be first to state the hyperbolic: this is a season-defining game. There, I’ve said it. For us, this will show us how far we’ve travelled on our journey to greatness; how much work there is still to do. Being a game of two halves, we need to play a high line, get at them, high-pressing tactics, win the second ball, win the first ball, win every fucking ball, and invoke as many cliches as you can think. Only then can real joy and happiness happen.

On the eve of the (Jewish) New Year, we need Him to play his part too. You know, the omniscient and omnipotent Spurs supporter in the Heavens.

Happy Saturday, pray hard.

A xxxx