The Meaning of Life


I see Cesc Fàbregas is showing faux commitment and loyalty to a long since expired contract clause relating to the Arsenal PR machine is quaint. I see you, fraud. You know the clause, right? The one their players have to abide by in order to appease the fragility of its insecure fan-base. To solidify a less than organic hatred for their rivals with the help of selfies and over elaborate and forced celebrations, as transparent as a pair of thin black leggings in the sunshine. Perhaps he should ask his question (the one about whether it’s better to win the Europa League than it is to lose in the Champions League final) not via Twitter but by leaning out of a moving car window whilst being chased by foaming gooners.

Of course, Cesc might be referring to his former Chelsea colleagues too. Who could possibly tell. The man is the poster boy for identity confusion. Football club fluid. As @BardiTFC reminded me, he once wore a Barca shirt whilst still playing for them lot down the road and eventually ended up at Chelsea.

If we lost in the semi or the final, rival fans (and their shook plastic ex-players) will celebrate like Spurs are an abject failure. That failing to win the CL is failure. The CL, the one thing we have no chance of winning (did we stand a chance at the start of the season or during the group stages?) but suddenly it's worth downplaying our effort to dare to dream.

You ok hun? And all other huns around the world?

Anyone care to go after Ajax for getting to the semi-final? How dare they with their brilliant fledgling players and silk football. Bloody upstarts. Their hate for us (Cesc and co), it's like that parasite that borrows into a the mind of its host, and then forces it to jump into a lake and drown itself. They're drowning in their hate for us. It's wonderful.

Of course rival fans will take the p*ss if we got knocked out. I mean, we would too. It's relief. Just admit you're scared and if we lose out remember that you were crapping your pants because it was a possibility. Imagine that. It's possible for little Tottenham to get to the final, a one-off occasion where anything is possible.

I'll tell you now, if Spurs did and if Spurs won it, actually won it, pray to whatever God or cosmic entity you believe in, pray to them...create one yourself just so you have something supernatural to beg to, because the sensory destruction us Tottenham supporters will dish out will be a wallop that will be heard at the edge of the universe.

F**k! It will be so loud that the universe will reset itself and we'll realise in that moment just before the cosmos collapses in on itself that the big bang was kick-started by the noise at the final whistle of the CL final along with the snap of millions of broken hearts of all our rivals sinking into deep misery.

Everything they think they have against us, all the bullets they aim and fire at us, the bullets will be gone. Vanquished into slow moving over-weight bluebottle flies, that we’ll comfortably swat.

And then 14 billion or so years later, we'll be back at the final again and the eternal loop will persist for infinity giving us the meaning of life: THFC, the beginning and the end of all time and space.

Obv, if we get knocked out by Ajax, finish 5th and them lot win the EL and qualify for the CL…the universe isn’t real. We’re living in a simulation and the current algorithm has been coded with banter binary.