Lila was born on April 1st 2017. Later that day Spurs beat Burnley. And subsequently went on a Lila-inspired run that was simply awesome. Lila’s presence not only provided me with a new obsession, the family with a new toy and everyone else with the joy of a new baby, but created a new attitude at Tottenham Hotspur which lead us to finish second in the league last year.

So this year, on her first birthday, we really needed to emphasise not only her continued influence, but how far she has taken her team, with a little help from Mauricio Pochettino and a lot of breast milk.

Such was the setting for her birthday tea yesterday afternoon. At my house. And the tv was on simply because she has two 6 year-old, football-obsessed cousins who needed to see their team in the biggest game of the century. Otherwise we’d never do such a thing with guests around, even if 15 out of the 25 were die-hard Spurs fans. Not proper.

If you haven’t seen the statistics then you may not know that we hadn’t won at Chelsea for 27 years. The longest ‘haven’t won at-‘ run in football. That Chelsea always come back to win, whatever happens before. That the gods of football seem to abandon Spurs in one of the few grounds where gods are too intimidated to… errr… tread? float?? whatever gods do.

So the scene was set. And the one good thing about horrible records like that above is that at some point they simply have to get broken. Law of averages; balance of probabilities, chimps with typewriters, it just has to happen sometime. And what better time.

Chelsea went ahead in the first half. They didn’t deserve to, based on the run of play and the moral necessitude, but life’s not always fair. So just before half time a miracle occurred and Christian Eriksen scored a wondergoal to tie things up at the break.

Then we ate things. Lots of things. Drank more tea, lit the candles on Lila’s first ever birthday cake, stuffed our faces with everything except bread and had 15 minutes of edible insanity.

At about the hour mark Dele Alli scored (in my mind, and those of several others assembled) the goal of the season. A perfect 40 yard pass from Eric Dier which Dele beautifully pulled down with one little touch of his boot. With his next touch he slotted the ball inside the near post with a calm, assured confidence and level of skill that told all his recent detractors to simply fuck off. It was a thing of beauty. Greatly appreciated and admired by the Chelsea fans nearby.

His next goal came just 4 minutes later and was more the result of a team effort that was in excess of that shown by Chelsea, who were given ample opportunities to clear the ball but the Spurs players got there first every time. Which culminated in Dele very coolly slotting home.

At which point those assembled in my lounge let out a collective shout so loud and so strong that any normal baby would have burst out crying. In fact even our supernatural baby did so. Though whether this was due to the shock and noise of just the sheer emotion of Spurs being 3-1 up at Chelsea, we’ll never know. She was taken and comforted, we just went crazy bat-shit mental. Oh and worrying that there were still over 20 minutes left to play.

But we needn’t have feared. Chelsea had lost their sparkle, Spurs defence was monstrously good and it ended 1-3 to MY team.

What a birthday present for Lila. She got loads of presents, lots of fuss and 6 points for her team, effectively.

Ahhhhh, happiest Easter Monday

A xxxx