Beef Bagel

There’s a story that hit the press today that made my heart sink like a stone. Fresh from the promise of a second 5th place and getting further from the truth of the gap between the Big Four and the rest of the league, I was trying on a few delusions of grandeur for size. My last post got The Bagel thinking. Maybe we can do it next season if we can just make a good two more top signings than arsenal or Liverpool. We may just be able to reach critical mass but with no area more critical in my eye than the left wing, I am most frustrated to read of Benitez’s interested in top target Morten Gamst Pedersen.

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..but nothing out of the ordinary as yet.

The links have flared back into life like those irritating joke birthday candles, between our very good and 5th placed selves and the likes of Curtis Davies, Darren Bent, David Nugent and now, as spotted by Adie and the more eagle eyed amongst you, Eider Gudjohnson with the outs looking like Mido and Ghaly with a question mark over Defoe. Breathe.

So how do we feel? What do we think? Give me the details Bagel! I shall.

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A much needed and quite unexpected three points. Certainly wasn’t part of my calculations last week but then nor was Portsmouth beating Liverpool or Bolton scraping a point and the paint off the Chelsea machine. If, like me, you spend your weekends condemned to Match of the Day 2 then here’s a closer look at the action from the Riverside…

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It’s a very strange day. Definitely the long weekend, at least I hope so otherwise I’m in for a bit of a shock tomorrow morning. No, I’ve checked the calendar, it is Easter and yet, there is no Spurs football match today. Spooky. I’ll just have to guzzle more chocolate and watch an extra Bond film this afternoon. Then it’ll feel like a Bank Holiday.

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By the time you’re reading this The Bagel will be airborne somewhere over Europe with a £3.50 Ryan Air mini beer in his hands. Destination: Murcia, the nearest cheapest airport to the match and just the right distance to make for an amusing road trip. By the sounds of the warnings ahead of Semana Santa (that’s Holy not Father Christmas week) we’ll have to ditch out transport in Portugal to get a chance of parking but when we do make it to the city centre I’m not sure how much time we’re going to want to spend in the designated “Tottenham Hotspur Fan Zone”. Will the Seville authorities get it right? They’ll need hamburgers, they’ll need strippers but most of all, they’ll need beer, lots of beer and they’d better hope it doesn’t run out.

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With a striker rate for Northern Ireland of better than a goal every two games, the man of the moment is most definitely Leeds United’s David Healy. He scored a couple of crackers last night at Windsor Park and his home country’s press is convinced that come next season the well traveled 27-year-old will be heading for the Premiership once more.

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Little Aaron Lennon knew he was in for a tough test when he was sent out to take on the entire Israeli national team on his own. But the 11 against one odds were just too stacked in the favour our winger. So being the good sport that he is, the greased lightening pace gnome thought it only fair to play himself out of position.

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Life moves quickly in football and although there’s a right Cockney barrell of monkeys out there still feeling the sting as if they’ve been hit by the world’s largest hornet, we must move on. For gentlemen and ladies, we have business to attend. Not only have we our league run-in to consider and consider with some great relish, but we’ve three cup ties to take care of in a matter of just 10 days. Blink and we could be on the canvass with bluebirds flying about our shaking heads, keep focused on the ball and this’ll be a season we’ll never forget.

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Oh sweet, sweet like a cup of delicious chocolate hotspur with an 89th minute winner as a marshmallow to dunk. Suddenly I’m looking at the league again with an altogether more positive outlook. When a game a two ago it was just how close we are to the drop, now I’ve eyes on the gap between ourselves and those from the South coast, who shop at Matalan. We’re only a couple of wins away from Pompey and Reading and those coveted UEFA spots. As for Bolton and that Allardyce thug, well, we can start on that one come Sunday but more on that another day.

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“Number 1 Chelsea, will play number 8, Tottenham Hotspur.”

Could there have been sweeter words spoken on Monday afternoon at FA HQ? Yes, you say? No, no I tell you. The bigger the scalp the greater the honour. We don’t won to win this cup with gift after gift as we sneak our way through the knockout backdoor via Plymouth, Watford and West Brom. Bring it the fuck on.

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