I was more worried about last night’s match than anything. More than North Korean nuclear threats, more than Trump’s need of subtlety in his life, more than Jeremy Corbyn becoming Prime Minister.

Because ‘doing a Spurs’ is all about collapsing. All about showing promise and glory up to a point, only to see the carpet ripped out from under our prematurely dancing feet. It used to happen in matches, it certainly happened over seasons. Most notably last season when the draw with Chelsea, as well as reaching Tarantino levels of violence by our normally calm and placid players, was the declaration of ‘over’. It crumbled after that. A switch had turned. The minds went. You don’t become your own metaphor by not sticking to type.

So last night. We went to Crystal Palace. The team simply must have been in a bad place after Saturday’s match at Wembley. Not physically, this team is super-fit and super-strong. And young enough to play on. But its in the minds that games are won and lost. Always in the minds. Ok, a little skill, a bit of luck maybe, but minds are so much more fragile, more susceptible to doubt and trouble.

This is the wonder of Mauricio Pochettino. Because he took his team from the cup defeat and somehow gave them back the belief in themselves that they needed. Ok, it wasn’t a spectacular performance like we’ve seen of late, but against an Allardyce team you know what you’re gonna get. Yet they stuck with it. Kept banging on the door, albeit in a slightly more subdued manner than the flowing, flying performances against Watford, Bournemouth, Swansea.

It took 78 minutes for Spurs to find an opening. And the sublime Christian Eriksen took his chance so sweetly. The league’s top goal-creator did it himself from 30 yards out.

WHAT A FUCKING RELIEF!!!!!

I was out. Came home and watched the 7 minutes of extra time. In a bit of a panic, a little nervy, ok, in a complete flap. Though I knew Lila was watching and that gave me the confidence to go on. We still haven’t lost a league match since her birth. And last night she did her magic once again, even though she was looking the other way. We didn’t have her last year.

Bring on the Arse. I’m normally really worried about ‘north London derbies’ but feel (probably stupidly) excited about this one.

We have a great team. We have a fantastic manager and wonderful attitude. We have Lila.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx