That’s it then. The football season’s over so this must be the final table. Finished early this year due to… because… errrrr… as the new stadium at Tottenham is delayed because the interior designers can’t decide on the final colour scheme in the toilets. So the Premier League said ‘play today and then its over’.

So, true to my prediction, Spurs won the league. Bournemouth (my newly elevated second team after last weekend’s trip there) finish second. The rest don’t count. And the only team not on the picture above, because either the first or last had to ‘go’ due to space allowances, is West Ham. I mean really. Like, ‘if only’. I have many West Ham friends who I’m rather fond of. But as a team, and as a collective fan-base, they stink. Awful, nasty, horrible and they hate Spurs. But like really hate Spurs. So for today only, as Monty Python said: I fart in their general direction. Arsenal managed to avoid relegation.

I also have to laugh at the irony that is me. I start my Saturday, as every week, at my martial arts class. Which today, among many other things, had us essentially hitting each other. Ok, we use big thick padded bags but we hit. And kick. And punch. And we all come out (often as not) unscathed, unmarked and unbleeding. Then I go to tennis, that genteel of sunny-day sports, and beat myself to shit. The other week it was my face I managed to hit, today my left ankle. Really hard with my racquet. And it became more painful as the day went on. So I iced it. With a leaky (didn’t know at the fucking time, obviously) bag. Ended up with a wet sock, but also with a less swollen ankle. Oooooh, that’s clever. Must google ‘padded tennis racquets’ and see what happens.

So even though I didn’t got to Spurs/Wembley today I realise why the football season is so great. Because it has the power to lift spirits. When you look and we’re 1-1 with Fulham after 65 minutes it is depressing. But when it ends 3-1, oh that’s so nice. Reaffirms your faith in… everything.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx