I'm back. Rejuvenated and refreshed, with one or two newly refined opinions on the state of the club and my crusade. Spooky, new and improved. But I wont bore you with the politics or conjecture until Sunday. Allow the small matter of an untelevised North London Derby play out for the fortunate who have tickets to be there before I start getting my hands dirty with ranting blog entries and letters.
There will be no preview for the North London Derby. You may as well re-read last seasons write-ups for the yearly What Spurs need to do to defeat Arsenal™ paradox. Never changes from one season to the next. Groundhog Day is every Tottenham fan's least favourite day(s) of the year.
Tomorrow, I will awake early. Have some breakfast and depart for the Bricklayers Arms on the high road. Then stagger over to the Park Lane just in time for the kick off. I'll sing, swear and gesture through 90 minutes of blood and thunder football and then go back to the pub.
Anything that happens on the pitch is out of my control. One thing is for certain, these games are rarely enjoyable for the heart. If mine doesn't give way, I'll be back online just after you have your roast dinner on Sabbath.