There’s now 3 questions to ask people to reduce viral risk. “Do you have a cough?” “Is your temperature high?” And, “have you been involved in any goalless draws this week?”

Because if there’s one positive (other than Trump’s test) to be taken from this horrible pandemic, its the amazing effect its had on football. Not usually any yardstick of medical anything, but football has changed. And for the better. It’s more… more… more… odd.

When Manchester City (EVERYBODY’S choice to win the league this year) lost 5-2 at home to Leicester the other week, it was just ‘a blip’, an oddity. A freak result which found City off colour and Leicester having one of those freak days when the ‘ball just kept going in’. But 5 is a big score in football. Really big. Spurs put the same number past Southampton that same weekend. Less of a surprise result but more statistical blips. Which, you’d imagine would favour the ‘big’ teams, who’d be notching up 4s and 5s and more, just because, generally, they create more chances.

City played Leeds on Saturday and could only manage to draw 1-1. They were lucky not to lose. Leeds were brilliant and refused to be intimidated by City’s billion pound team which actually looked a bit ‘bargain basement’ in comparison to the quality produced by Leeds. FUCKING LEEDS!!!! Playing football that doesn’t draw blood and break legs??? Billie Bremner’s statue outside Elland Road actually produced tears.

Then came yesterday. The most absolute and total ‘FUCK ME!!!’ day football has ever produced.

Spurs went to play Manchester United at Old Trafford. Went 1-0 down with a penalty after just 30 seconds. Pulled level 4 minutes later, went 2-1 up seven minutes after that and were 4-1 to the good by half time. The final score of 6-1 was so… magnificent, so… amazing, so… JUST BIIIIIIGG!!! that I still can’t quite get the smile off my face. Spurs were simply breathtaking, United plain abysmal. Defending the ‘high line’ is a little risky and depends on the speed of your defenders. Toby Maguire and (dirty bastard) Luke Shaw looked as if they could only catch Son if they were racing for the last pizza. Harry Kane was magnificent, again, Sonny simply pure class. And Pierre-Emile Hojbjerg (yes, that is his real name), world class. Add in Aurier’s best game for Spurs, the strength of Sissoko and Ndombele and even the embarrassing performance for his Oscar by Eric Lamela and it all just worked out fine. More than fine. The stuff of dreams in the Theatre of Dreams.

Football can’t get better than that.

Yet just a few short hours later it did. As Aston Villa did a number on Liverpool. That ‘number’ being 7. Seven. SEVEN. Beat the Champions 7-2 in the best game they will ever know.

So, I’m lovin Covid right now. Of course, next weekend that may change but when ‘viral load’ is translating into goals, how can it be a bad thing?

Ecstatic Monday

A xxxx