Spurs kicked off at 3 o’clock yesterday afternoon. What an odd time for a game of football. But it happens. And in fact remains the only part of our national game that remains outside the control of various tv companies. So in protest I went to the V&A. Because I’m cultured. Sophisticated. Metrosexual. And because I like fast cars.

The V&A have a new exhibition about cars. ‘Accelerating into the modern world’. How car design helped shape our society. That’s what it says on the posters. So I accelerated in there, eager to see how our finest museum (their recent exhibitions, from Bowie to Dior, have ranged from ‘outstanding’ to ‘fucking mind-blowing’) handled one of my favourite… things. Cars. Old cars. I was excited. (Spurs were 1-0 up before we even entered the building, so it was looking better every second).

But what a disappointment. There’s a beautiful E-type jag outside the entrance to the Cars bit and you think ‘wow!’ Cos its beautiful. And obviously a perfect one. Even though it was left-hand-drive, which for some reason bothered me. My brother-in-law has one just as beautiful and his drives on the proper side. He would have lent it to them, I’m sure. It’s not like he’d drive it in December.

And you enter to a jet-powered, 1950 ‘Firebird’ which is gorgeous. Next to Carl Benz’s first ever car and behind that a wonderful Mustang GT. Old one. And… and…

And that was pretty much it really. (Spurs were now properly 2-0 up, after the first 2-0 was downgraded back to 1-0 by VAR). Ok, they had this Messerschmidt three-wheeler which I’ve loved forever. And they had a 1945 Beetle (Hitler’s favourite car and about 300 million other people’s favourite too). But it was a small exhibition. Like, 20 minutes in total, reading all the info shit. Which wasn’t enough. Insufficient detail. I wanna know the engine size, the gear ratio (whatever that is), the number of cylinders, the fuel consumption and how many miles a 1932 Model T can do before you have to plug it in. But they didn’t tell you. (3-nil up, Sissoko scored. SISSOKO scored!!!!!! He NEVER scores, Jose was then more impressive than a 1947 Hispano-Suiza).

There was no Mini. Like a proper, old, original Mini. No Morris Minor. No 1955 Cadillac with fins the size of garden sheds and 16 acres of chrome. Not one Ferrari. No Bugatti Veyron. Not even a Prius which, for a lousy piece of Japanese shit, is both the reflection of society’s current needs and also the forerunner of popular electric cars.

And my disappointment was matched by Bournemouth then scoring a goal. And then another. So, just like last week, we were clinging on desperately to a match that in theory was done and dusted within an hour. However, once I saw our goals… oh my but we looked pretty.

If the V&A did an exhibition of Jose Morinho’s finest things, those goals would have been there. That and whole bunch of parked buses.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx