I normally hate ‘international breaks’ in the football. Especially for friendlies. Mainly because I’ve lost heart with ‘England’ football, much as I’m madly in love with ‘England’ rugby. Odd, eh? Or not, that’s what it is.

This international break is a good one though, because I’m relaxed about the league. Spurs are second. They’re nicely poised, let them rest. Its a very unusual position for Spurs fans.

But they’re not resting. Four of my boys are starting for England tonight. Doesn’t mean they’ll finish tonight because its a friendly so players are changed with the speed of changing lanes on the motorway. Which is why friendlies are so useless and uninformative.

My ‘relaxation’ is only bothered by the injury worry. Four of our players are going out there against a bunch of bloody Germans who have a point to prove. I have no idea what that point is but its just the way they play. Maybe they’re making a statement against Angela Merkel, maybe its their stance on the migrant crisis, but they’ll be making some point or other; its what Germans do. They used to invade nations, now they make points.

And if Harry, or Deli, or Danny or Eric (the half-German) get injured, I’ll fucking hate England even more. That’s it, I’ve made MY point. Look after my boys; send them back safely.

Easter’s here. You can tell. They had a bunch of Jesus look-a-likes being crucified in Trafalgar Square yesterday. And that only happens at Easter. Also its raining. That’s a very Easter thing too. But yesterday, although it was very Easter (Good Friday, in fact; the day Jesus went to Trafalgar Square… errrr… with Lord Nelson, and… errrrr… did something very good and Christian) it didn’t feel like it. It felt like summer. Wonderful, warm, sunny, gorgeous day.

Mel & I went to Waitrose. She had a shopping list; I had a mission. We split up at the door. She in search of broccoli and sweet potatoes and milk and… whereas I got stuck at the Easter Eggs. Right by the door. To tempt the children (however old). And tempted I was.

“HOLY SHIT!!!!” I thought. Because it was a holy day and the almost last chance to buy Easter Eggs. That most unique form of chocolate that really tastes like no other. And is only available til… MONDAY!!!! “HOLY SHIT!!!!” I thought once more. For effect. And then spent so long agonising whether to buy 3 big ones (special offer, 3 f’ra tenner) or 10 little ones (a quid each), that by the time I’d made up my mind, Mel had filled her trolley with everything a family needs for a month.

But shopping is about quality, not quantity, and who enjoyed the experience more? That’s what I wanna know.

Happy Easter

A xxxx