The start of another week and it's the same old grievances dominating the Tottenhamverse.
I'll ignore the Gareth Bale repeat shows. Andre Villas-Boas and his future is currently taking the spotlight (once again, having already been dismissed by the media and re-animated back to life) with the imminent announcement that Carlo Ancelotti is going to be named the new Real Madrid coach. Which instantly makes AVB the only available replacement in world football to take the helm at PSG. Cue the cute headlines.
AVB to PSG easy as ABC. Can someone please kill me.
The pantomime of the transfer window provides plenty of commentary, which I've bored you lot with countless times in the past but it's worth reminding ourselves of one important factor in amongst all the hyperbole. The important factor being the news stories doing the rounds can only truly be validated by yourself. So, if you choose to ignore them, it retains no importance and therefore won't ruin your day. If you choose to believe them (even though you don't believe everything you read and ignore the contradictory rationale of how you select which story to actually believe) then the emotional grievances it showers you with is completely of your own doing. And thus you are deserving of the subsequent misery.
We (the royal variant) all appear to know exactly what is transpiring behind closed doors. Rival fans are laughing that we are about to lose our coach, the very same coach they laughed at when we appointed him. As for our own supporters, the fact that PSG are supposedly interested and that AVB has a release clause in his contract and is equally disheartened by Daniel Levy's lack of ambition (we've not signed anyone yet, therefore; no ambition) would mean the defeatist attitude is justified. Right? Wrong? What?
Villas-Boas, the outcast, given a chance by Levy (who only offered him a contract because he was a free agent and not because of any football management reason) is suddenly within his rights to leave Spurs because he'll be able to challenge for a title in France and spend big in preparation. This obviously being the better addition to his CV than perhaps claiming moderate success in taking an outsider to greater heights in the far more competitive Premier League. Where apparently he no longer has a point to prove and we're no longer 2/3 players away from a sustained title challenge.
The same newspapers that drove their agenda against him continuously into a big hairy ginger wall of facial hair are now sky-diving over it with sheer delight that the Portuguese 'flop' is much sought after. His stay at Spurs a close shave with mediocrity.
It's still all good for Levy because he'll earn some money out of it (that's why he agreed a release clause in the first place). We can then aim to start over again thanks to the generation of non-existent longevity that we currently reside in with player and coach loyalty shifting faster through us than a dodgy lasagne.
Levy himself is like the Bond villain Bond never knew.
"Do you expect me to talk?"
Shoots Bond dead in the head with an exploding bullet.
"No Mr Bond. I expect to ask someone to sweep up the mess your brains have made on my floor"
Just replace Bond with a scenario that involves money and an exploding bullet with his hands reaching out to take the money.
All of last seasons work; Gareth Bale and his evolution (now one of the most sought after players in the world that only one club can pretend to be able to afford) and a squad of highly impressive players isn't a tasty enough challenge any longer thanks to the change of guard at Real Madrid - which, let's face it, is currently the centre of the footballing universe and whatever they do/say goes and even if it doesn't directly impact us it will via the great domino effect they like to bestow on all those below them.
This game of distorted whispers and repetition is what fundamentally controls the plot and therefore controls you. Journalist A says one thing which is confirmed by journalist B only because B has copy and pasted from A then when C picks it up the readers will take this for the gospel truth because A, B and C have all stated the same thing. The readers in the aftermath start writing their THFC obituary. In the mean time the same readers will slate other tittle tattle of news about transfers, dismissing them out of hand as ridiculous. That infamous rationale.
All the fist to air punching of Villas-Boas through out last season, the team unity and the team love for their man on the touchline (Bale hug anyone? Shirtless with the lads in the Bahamas anyone?), and the appreciation from the supporters - all of this is deemed automatically irrelevant and no longer influential because journalists A, B and C and the golden treasured war chests of PSG say differently.
However, if we announced something tomorrow. A new player. A new contract...hold onto ya hats because the wave of euphoric reaction would take you to the very hedonistic heights of heaven where you'd explode like a forty year old virgin surrounded by a dozen eighteen year old harem girls fluttering their lashes.
Can we have a flow-chart please to keep up with it all? When to feel optimistic and when to feel down-hearted. It's mostly the latter though isn't it?
Its nigh impossible to follow
any of this. It's a like a game of connect the dots with dots that morph
into shapes that proceed to get coloured in with broken crayons. You'd think
David Lynch was directing a sequel to Inland Empire whilst you watch
from behind the cameras high on Salvia divinorum.
In fact, the more I think about it Tottenham Hotspur is more like Mulholland Drive. All makes sense until you realise we've been masturbating frantically, living in a fantasy world of delusion where reality itself is a far more stale, stagnated, disappointing place, that is grim and confusing. And then when the final hour of the transfer window kicks in no one has a clue what in the **** is going on and then it ends leaving you bewildered and questioning why you hoped and believed for something more tangible in the first place when you just knew it would end this way because it's Levy...I mean Lynch. Levy.
Time to wake up. We live in times of cowboys and monsters.
If egg finds its way to my face in the next few weeks then I'll have questions for our chairman and our former coach. It's bad enough hearing every day how we're going to fail to sign everyone this summer let alone having to hear how we also plan to lose our coach before the director of football he wanted to work with arrives. If he arrives. And if AVB truly wanted him.
You know what, scrap everything. Just get David Lynch in.