I’m the luckiest man in the world.

I’m not a football fan. Because nothing could be worse. Ok, one thing: I could be a Spurs fan!! And every day, as I wake in the morning, and pray to the Lord for my eyes, my ears and, in particular, my penis, I add another prayer that I was not cursed with supporting Tottenham Hotspur.

Because if I had been given that horrendous cross to bear through life, I’d have been devastated yesterday when our hero, our captain, our ‘best centre back in the world’ turned back into the super-high-octane Argentinian thug which always simmers below the surface, was shown a red card after just 30 minutes of our game at Old Trafford. The match was balanced, Spurs were playing well. United were playing well too, so it was a worthy spectacle. And then… one mis-timed tackle, one near physical assault by ‘Cutie’ and off he went.

At which point, 10 Tottenham heads dropped. 10 pairs of socks lowered. Our form this season has been some way from ‘stellar’. Which is like saying ‘Croydon is some way from Alpha Centuri’. And then players know or feel or just innately understand that to give up a man advantage is suicidal. About 3 minutes later United scored.

And if I was a Spurs fan, I would deeply love Christian Romero. He plays with heart, soul, passion and too often, extreme violence. His passion gives way to a driven type of mindless excess. He should not be the team captain. The person responsible for keeping shit together. For motivation. For leading from the front. Not from the fucking changing room. His first job is to stay on the pitch. And hopefully (but rarely as it turns out) avoid yellow cards which will compromise his play.

He has so many yellow and red cards he’s almost ready to start playing bridge with them. Fuck knows, he has the time now he has a 4 match suspension.

Leaving Spurs, (which thankfully, I’m not remotely concerned about) within spitting distance of the relegation zone.

West Ham are on a roll. Looking like they’re about to rise out of the swamp at the bottom. Three more points takes them level with currently hopeless Nottingham Forest. Who, in turn, are three points behind Spurs. And Leeds and Crystal Palace. It’s simply not a great place to be.

So I’m soooooo thankful for my parents NOT making me a Spurs fan. That would be awful.

However… just for today, as a Sunday Special, I wouldn’t mind being a Man City fan, following their quite incredible victory at Liverpool. A goal down at 83 minutes and it looked hopeless. Then they scored. And as normal time ran out, they got a penalty; duly dispatched by Erling the Magnificent.

Then came a goal of such incredible uniqueness, of such remarkable, chaotic nuttiness, that it would be anyone’s goal of any season. It is quite beyond description; go to YouTube and watch all of its insanity. And it was so good…

That VAR cancelled it. No goal. Sorry. Too exiting, too wonderful, to ridiculous, too many people enjoying it; No Goal.

Every football fan in the world wanted that goal to be part of our collective history. So bizarre and so brilliant. But heartless, soulless, gutless VA-fuckin-R has no heart, soul or guts. Just ‘the letter of the law’. And that, my friends, is precisely what it totally wrong about VAR and why it must be stopped from ruining the game…

That I don’t apparently care about.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx