You’re driving along the motorway, maybe listening to The Eagles, when two tyres simultaneously blow out, the car rolls, smashes into a wall. But miraculously… you’re OK!! You manage to climb out of the wreckage, shaken but not broken, feeling so lucky to be alive. And a dog comes by and bites you on the leg. Then it starts pouring with rain. You slip on the pavement and break your leg. When you get to hospital you learn that your mother-in-law has won a Nobel peace prize and Zack Polanski is prime minister.

As metaphors go, I’ll admit, that’s excessive. But mere words cannot describe the total disaster, the abject catastrophe, the sheer brutality of the agony caused by the series of events in last night’s footballing shit-show.

We needed just one point from last night’s match at Chelsea. One measly, fucking point. But, obviously, failed to get it. Spurs apparent tactic of sleeping for 80 minutes then suddenly waking up to reality in a total “WTF? Holy Shiiiiiitttt!!!” moment and starting to play something approaching ‘football’, failed yet again. Too little too late. We were already 2nil down. Could’a been different. If Madison’s late shot hadn’t been amazingly, fantastically (I have to admit) blocked by the Chelsea defender, then who knows. But it was blocked. Though the recent ‘late game awakening’ by Spurs does seem to coincide with Madison’s introduction to any match. I say ‘play him’! I know he’s not 100% fit but if his injury returns he has the whole summer to get over it. Or we’ll buy another one for next year.

But by the end of the match we already knew that the ‘worst case scenario’ had happened. All the way down on the south coast, in Bournemouth. Where Man City failed to win. And thus Arsenal became… (I hate to write the words…) League Champions!

On the same evening that Spurs took one foot off the ladder which MAY keep them up, Arsenal won the fucking league. There is no God, there is no hope. There is just pain.

Its all about Sunday. Just one point. Well, at least its at home. Where we never ever win games and play them just to show that magnificent stadia do NOT automatically generate magnificent football. Quite the opposite. Oddly, Everton are aware of that too.

Happy fucking Wednesday

A xxxx

(This pic is for Lulu)