Much as I detest Mourinho (you probably haven’t noticed) ‘that’ result was good for most of us who hate to see one team running away with everything. The Prem Title was getting boring, it will deservedly go to Chelsea most-like, but well done to United for giving Spurs some hope. Curiously without big Noddy the United ‘team’ all put in a shift for once and the look on Mowgli’s strained face was a study afterwards as the embarrassed Italian struggled to comprehend Geoff Shreeves’ complicated question, crudely summed up as ‘WTF, Toni?’.
Second in command Spurs spanked Worried-of-Bournemouth (see below) to keep the pressure on the Kings Road corner, and a stupendously strident semi Cup weekend approaches which will tell us, not exactly FA, but a lot more: blip, slip or nip back to the Bridge drawing board? Your call…
As it’s Holy Week, The Lord said unto angry Arsene come fourth, but he’s coming in sixth (at the mo) and will lose his Champions League spot shortly. The eleven disciples and Steve Bould aren’t listening, struggling, even conceding goals to a doomed, toothless Boro side who might even have won – God forbid, Gooners! Winning Pool and Citeh are in the CL mix and now even Yoonighted are in danger of turning up to fight for fourth, Europa success still dangling.
Gloom’s deepening in the valleys, why is it suddenly going incorrectly for PC? It’s not going much better for MS oop north either, but it’s neutrally fun to watch.
Anyone remember the Likely Lads, when Terry, taunted by Bob, describes and writes off nations in one word: as in ‘French – smelly, Germans – arrogant, Italians – cowardly’. Well, to alleviate end-of-season boredom you can play that game too with the also-rans of the Prem. My take is: West Brom – boring, Stoke – disappointing, Watford – incomprehensible, Leicester – Shakespearean, Southampton – sanctified, West Ham – Ladylike(!), Bournemouth – concerning. Try this at home, but only one word allowed, allow extra marks for urine extraction.
To Be Or Not To Be? Whether ‘tis nobler to succeed in the Champions League tonight against Atletico Madrid or dismally finish, but survive in the Prem – hey, no contest. Who cares about being pegged back by Palace when you can Really mix it with the Bayerns, Juventus’ and Monacos? In the East Midlands we’ll be glued to the box watching our valiant neighbours, some of us mistily remembering greater days when we were there, the evening a brief interlude as we sweat about going down ourselves to deep despair. Good luck Leicester!