3 Points Is 3 Points No Matter How You Get Those 3 Points

Finally, the 2,984-minute goalless drought is over as the (not so) mighty Spurs create a much-needed victory against the (sort of) mighty Pompey. I, of course, am quite thrilled that we picked up the spoils today at The Lane, but I am not thrilled at how we achieved it. The first minute was fantastic as Defoe picked out the head of Berbatov who, in turn, had his shot on goal brushed away by Calamity James. Amazingly, someone from Spurs was actually in position to take advantage of it as Danny Murphy broke his duck for Tottenham with a cool finish into the left corner. Unfortunately for me, the audio on Fox was way out of sync and it was sort of difficult to get into the moment from my perspective. Thanks a lot, FSC. Wankers.

Let’s get back to the game. The half hour mark saw a curious decision from the match day official, a Mr. Steven Wonder, as Didier Zokora did his best Arjen Robben impression in the box and was awarded a penalty. I’m all for Spurs being awarded penalties but this one was cheap and, to be honest, a bit embarrassing on our end. If there had been even the slightest amount of contact, like a pinky finger, then fair play to Mr. Zokora. However, the wind from Pedro Mendes charging in to defend is not a reason to fall over and plea for a penalty. This is White Hart Lane, not Portugal. Hopefully Martin Jol will “shmack shum shense” into Didier as an indication never to do that again.

As a Spurs fan, even an embarrassing and cheap penalty that Defoe coolly slotted home giving us a 2-nil lead wouldn’t take away from the relative ecstasy of looking on our way to our first three points since late August. This is Tottenham, and we were reminded of that fact when about 6 minutes later when former Arsenal foe Kanu headed home a cross for Portsmouth and it became squeaky bum time inside The Lane. Our unease would only worsen as Pompey pretty much dominated us throughout the second half as we had all the ambition of a 40-year-old pothead going forward. Zokora, in an attempt to play real football, made some fantastic runs forward only to have his service into the strikers denied in the final third. Luckily on our end, the England number one saved a last gasp Lua Lua header in the 92nd minute to preserve our 2-1 victory and a bit of relief in the Lilywhite section of North London.

He loves proving me right. Uncanny, really.

I would be remiss if I did not mention my favorite whipping boy, Jermaine Jenas. I owe him a debt of gratitude for proving just about everything in my blog about him to be absolutely true. After a “thankfully” anonymous first half, he came into true Jenas form in the second. I’ll give him this. Running with the ball, he did fantastically. It is just the small matter of doing something worthy of positive recognition with it that seems to fail him at the present time. I’ll give you a brief rundown of the last 45 minutes for Mr. Jenas.

1. After a wonderful run down the right side, he manages to hit an extraordinary cross straight into touch. Good job.

2. Defoe and Berbatov manage to keep the ball alive just outside of the box and center it for Jenas who, as per usual, whiffs at it with all the gusto of a 400lb man with a hoagie in his mouth. Thumbs up to YOU, sir.

3. It just wouldn’t be a Spurs game is Jenas didn’t have a few shots go narrowly over the crossbar. By narrowly, I mean 15 rows up into the seats.

Yeah, I’m harsh on Jenas. “Thank you, Capt. Obvious,” I might hear anyone who stumbles upon this blog say. It is not that I don’t like him. It is just that such a skillful player isn’t playing up to form and it is really pissing me off. So much potential is not being maximized and it is really time for this metro sexual football player to kick it into gear. He’s better than his showing on the pitch and seeing him play like rubbish 99% of the season thus far makes me feel like a parent whose kids are just slacking off and wasting what talent they have. However, let us just get one thing straight. As a Spurs fan who loves his team, I have all the right in the world to bag on Jenas. Any Arsenal twat, or whoever else for that matter, does not have said right. That is just the way it works in modern sport.

Now, as I leave you with this post, we enter into the breakneck, slam-bang, laugh in the face of death, exhibition of daring-do that is Euro 2008 qualifying. I’ll pause while you collect yourself as the very thought of it overwhelms every fiber of your being.



You are welcome. 2 weeks void of any meaningful football have us sullen, downtrodden, and generally bored until the next game. Villa away. No easy feat by any stretch of the imagination. 1 point would please me to no end, as a matter of fact. The way we played today honestly gives me little more hope than I had a few weeks ago that we would make Europe again. Something has to change. Lennon, Lennon. Wherefore art thou, Lennon? Deny thy injury, and resume thy game!

Mike.