DEAR MR LEVY: A letter to the chairman

And the award goes to....



Dear Mr Levy,

Happy New Year and I hope your Christmas was a merry one. Did you receive my gift? A bottle of Morgan’s Spiced rum. Slice of lime and coca-cola, brings out the vanilla taste wonderfully well. I’m doing good, if you were also thinking of my well being. Hence this correspondence. Thought it best to start the year off with a smile and the sharing of mutual respect. From fan to chairman.

I’ve included below a list of the winners from The Annual End of Year 2008 Honorary Special Awards from my blog. I thought it of great importance that you would want to see this as it allows you a looking glass view into the hearts of all Spurs fans who bare their souls online, in forums.

Please pass on my congratulations to the winners, and if possible, ask your PA to get some reactions and comments so I can include in a follow-up feature.

This is the only on-line honours list that matters IMO because it pays homage to the select few that deserve a special mention for an outstanding contribution to Tottenham Hotspur. It’s free of the bureaucracy, politics and corruption of football magazines and the more established sporting websites because there is no financial gain to be had or blatant punditry agendas. The winners were selected after painstaking market research conducted by myself. I spent over 200 hours reading through all the major Spurs message boards and forums and using Excel spreadsheet to input nominations (in the way of forum user reactions, comments and key words), allowing for easy calculations when it came to selecting the winner for each category. And unlike on-line polls, nothing has been manipulated.

I’m sure you will appreciate the effort. My parole officer is currently monitoring all outgoing mail and thanks to the injunction….how did the Judge put it again….oh, yes….colourful expletives and threats are unacceptable as much as balloons full of excrement and nude protests. So I wasn’t joking when I said Happy New Year. My resolution is to be far more constructive and positive, and as a result, at my next review, my community service will need not be extended and I'll be able to quantify genuine progress has been made with regards to anger management and public disorder. So Daniel mate, hope you appreciate the positivity and maybe see you soon for a round of golf? I’ll have my people call your people.

Here are the awards in full.


-


The Michael Malcolm Award for Most Promising Youngster

A pulsating midfield dynamo. Who else? Jermaine Jenas. Think Gerrard with bling. This wonderful box-2-box CM continues to show the potential that will one day make him a seasoned world-class England international. A player that has everything. Cheeky eye for goal, but as effective defensively as he is offensively. Much like Michael Carrick’s uncanny ability to read the game so well, getting to the ball before the need to tackle for it, Jenas too possesses a sublime, almost majestic stride to his game that sees him ghost around the boiling points in central midfield, observing play and then proceeding to allow it to flow so that he can find himself positionally effective for assessing the next midfield battle. Absolutely unflappable.


Tottenham’s MVP 2008

Unprecedented this. An award that is deservedly shared between Robert Keane (posthumously) and our returning on-loan striker, Jermain Defoe. Thoughts and prayers for our former Irish king-pin forward who is solely missed by all. The brilliant talisman was the tormentor of many and the scorer of many more. Football is a darker place without his smile and vibrant personality. Defoe is on his way back from Pompey having been recalled from his loan spell at the sea-side club. He’s had a wonderful time there, scoring plenty of goals, and regaining his place as an England international. A year older and worth a few million more in value, the complete fox in the box striker is back in Lilywhite. The master of beating the offside trap, Defoe’s added ability of holding up the ball and playing neat one touch passes in and around the box will fill the void left behind by Keane and Berbatov. Unlike players of Darren Bent’s ilk that can’t drop deep or help out in midfield when teams overload that particular part of the pitch, with Defoe back in the side, there is no limit to the tactical deployment Redknapp can utilise in-game.


Most Shrewd Transfer Dealing

The riddance of Steed Malbranque. The duff jewel in the triple-play £17M transfer mugging we dished out to sorry Sunderland who also paid out for Teemu Tianio and Pascal Chimbonda. A superfluous player, all glitz and glam with no head-down work ethics. This French prima donna much preferred posing in front of mirrors in the changing room than working hard for the team out on the pitch. Best described as a quintessential highlights player, always looks good for those 20 seconds on Match of the Day, but lacked the presence for consistency over a prolonged period. A deserved victim of the Ramos/Comolli cull, which saw other players leave the club during the summer for far more realistic valuations. The income from this tasty bit of business would then be spent on David Bentley, banishing all memories of 'Steeeeeeeed' forever.


Best Heart-in-your-mouth Moment

Arsenal 4 Spurs 4. Simply put, one of the games of the century. What were you doing when Spurs scored in injury time? If you weren’t there or watching it in a pub or at home on tv, then the only way you could possibly excuse yourself for missing out on this effervescent NLD is if you were standing on the Grassy Knoll with a gun in one hand and a flux capacitor in the other. Spellbinding match, including possibly, in pure footballing terms, the finest goal scoring moment of 2008. A cracking effort, forged in the fire of £16M worth of ingenious quick thinking and electric natural ability. Bentley’s goal was sensational. The game should have ended right there on the basis of its undeniable technical beauty. Alas it didn’t. But nobody complained. At 3-1 down, it’s safe to say most Spurs fans had long ripped out their own hearts in poetic suicide, leaving the dismay behind as they began their journey home, pondering and practising their excuses for the morning after.

Those that hadn’t left, soon did when the score mocked them at 4-2. But behold, the last chapter of a modern day classic. Each page revealing a twist towards its audacious finale. Joyful to the small contingent left in the corner of the ground. Gut-wrenching to the masses surrounding them. Oh yes, oh yes indeed. 4-2 became 4-3, and in the dying seconds, became 4-4. The diminutive Lennon equalizing for a share of the points. Imagine that. A second earlier the ball struck the post from a stonking Modric shot, which had everyone frozen in time, hearts in mouth, all awaiting the final twist to an epic evening of football. And with a dink, a smile and a celebration that buried a fan, it was all over. Victory claimed.


Best Official DVD Release from the Spurs Shop

There have been some quite magnificent games in the year that was 2008. But there’s no doubting the best 90 minutes that found itself neatly wrapped, with additional ribbon, sitting in everyone’s Christmas stocking. That’s right. Spurs 5 Roma 0. I’ll repeat it in case you momentarily went blind or blinked when reading the previous sentence. Spurs aka Tottenham Hotspur 5 (five) Roma 0 (zero). How can anyone ever forget that balmy Sunday afternoon in August?

Incredible performance from the Lilywhites, one that any young football scholar, not old enough to have witnessed the great Spurs side of 1961, would have been drooling over. A sexy, sassy mixture of push and run and deflowering free flowing play that saw the Italians decimated in 90 minutes of golden football. Roma experienced a Vikingesque rape and pillaging that had grown men in the stands tonguing each other in celebration.

The DVD includes plenty of special features, including ‘director’s commentary’ from David Bentley who talks us through his brace, including Thunderbolt Cam, which allows you to relive David’s 20 yard first-half stoppage time classic from 5 different angles including a specially devised ball-cam animated segment which shows the ball on its journey from his foot to the back of the net from the perspective of the actual ball. There’s also an interview with Dider Zokora on his monumental midfield dust-up with Roma winger Marco Cassetti, that captured the hearts of all that witnessed it. Terry Venables discusses and compares the incident to the legendary Mackay v Bremner ding dong from yesteryear and reveals how, in essence, this modern day tussle between two players at the top of their game was better. Don’t miss out on the limited special edition of this DVD which includes additional highlights from the 5-1 away day demolition job of Norwich City including the documentary ‘Foursome’ about Darren Bent's double brace and also the stunning holographic Star jump cover of David Bentley.


The Crowning Glory Award 2008

No doubting the moment. The magnificent 2-1 Carling Cup Final victory at Wembley against Chelsea masterminded by double UEFA Cup winner, Juande Ramos. Football is sometimes like an ocean. Each wave fading into the sand, while you wait for the next one, hoping the tide will reach your feet, soaking them in glorious salt water. It takes a man of great presence to guide you closer to the waves and allow for you to dip your feet ankle deep into the sea with no further frustrating need to wait for the tide to come to you. Ramos bought the tide to us. And we almost drowned in its beauty. Berbatov, in what would be his last significant performance for Spurs, along with legend Robbie Keane, were outstanding on a day that saw us fight back from 1-0 down to claim an extra-time 2-1 win thanks to the clever header from our defensive rock’n’roll centre-back, Jonathan Woodgate. But much like the ocean, football can sometimes produce the perfect storm. One with tragic consequences. Juande peaked too soon. Our ocean covered in an ugly slick from an exploded French oil tanker. As you know, Ramos has since moved on, but credit where it’s due. He led us to Cup glory and a safe passage back into the UEFA Cup. Not since the famous George Graham side of 1999 had we witnessed such giddy heights of progression.


The Tanner Literary Medal of Honour

One word has been on everyone’s lips this past year. Opus. This breathtaking collection of high definition photographic gems, some never seen before, and sharp incisive words detailing the history of our great club from year zero to the present has captured the imagination of the Spurs faithful. Such is the demand for this top-heavy must-have, that the club have taken the step to bring it to the fans by wheeling a copy out at every home match half-time interval. Why go to the Spurs Shop or even submit your interest on-line when you can be in its very presence at White Hart Lane? But that’s not all. Amazingly, the club is selling raffle tickets allowing one lucky person per week to pick up a copy at a cost of a couple of quid. And with around 4000 of these events scheduled into its White Hart Lane roadshow, you might just strike lucky. If you prefer not to gamble, for personal or religious reasons, don’t hesitate to order an Opus directly from the club. You’ll find the price competitive and if you are a keen investor, this purchase has mouth-watering sell-on value.


The Irving Scholar Lifetime Achievement Award for Astute Boardroom Tactics

Ridding the club of the leprosy that was Martin Jol and inviting Juande Ramos to offer his services to the club was textbook professionalism in the name of evolution. Daniel Levy directing Comolli and Kemsley masterminded a dizzying moment that won’t be forgotten for a very long time. The dissection of Jol’s football soul, publicly exorcised for all to see during the Getafe defeat at WHL, was Machiavellian magic at its finest. A true tour-de-force in power play politics. With Jol burning like a fly caught in a night lamp, Levy unveiled the Spaniard to much acclaim. The result? Silverware. European qualification. The dismantlement of the DoF system followed, allowing for a more traditional manager to take the place of the departed Ramos who has gone onto a new challenge, to help a team who play in white reclaim some past glory. It’s an obvious speciality that we tapped into first. How can one possibly follow on from such an appointment? One does not because one can not. Not yet. Levy must once more begin his search in earnest for the next man destined for the White Hart Lane helm and this is no easy task. It will take time. For now, we have our esteemed interim manager Harry Redknapp steadying the ship in perpetration for the next bottle to be smashed against its hull.

While Jol huffed and puffed for more than two seasons, Ramos, swiftly showed us all how it’s done. Credit to the chairman. Not since the day Alan Sugar pointed at a young Nick Barnaby and proclaimed ‘That’s our new East Stand!’ have we witnessed such a magnanimous display of commitment to all things Tottenham.

-


Regards,
Spooky

Draft complete

3 months since the last Dear Mr Levy letter. Daniel gets a new one tomorrow morning.

Whoop.

2010: A Spurs Odyssey

Dear Mr Levy,

You truly are a God amongst men. I have shivers running down my spine. Such is the positivity, from fans and the media.

Edgar Davids, the Dutch midfield legend, in the Lilywhite shirt.
Jermain Defoe, England’s most promising, prolific young striker.
Ledley King, one of England’s strongest, quickest and most reliable centre backs. All the top top clubs are after him.
Michael Carrick, a midfielder who will compete within the England backbone for years to come.
Top internationals in all positions and players with Champions League experience.
England’s number one, on a 7 year contract.
The nucleus of the England U19/U23 team.
Competition for every position from established stars and young internationals.
Pundits treating us with respect and quoting us as genuine would-be contenders to the Top 4.
A realistic destination for top players. Players – experienced or promising talents – want to join us.
We have ridden the crisis of our Sporting Director defecting to Chelsea. The impact of his departure is almost as if it didn’t happen.
Martin Jol. Legend. A man who turned down his dream job in his native country due to the passion for the job at WHL.
And you, Mr Levy. A chairman who acts with courage and dignity and has the overwhelming support of the fans.

And if that wasn’t all, over at Arsenal, things are looking grim.

They’ve lost their talismanic captain.
Their key transfer target has snubbed them for a bigger club in Spain.
Key remaining players are in contract disputes.
They have yet another player with a prison sentence hanging over him.
They have abandoned their famous shirt for the new season.
And they are soon to be moving from Highbury to an even more soul-less library.

This is a good time to be a Tottenham fan. We are not building a squad. We are building a dynasty. The future is bright, the future is white.

That was July 2005.

Let’s jump ahead to October 2008.

We have no defensive midfielder.
We lack firepower and understanding upfront, hoofing the ball to the forwards.
Ledley king is crocked and hardly plays.
Carrick is at United. We do have Jenas and Zokora though.
We still have internationals. Like Tom Huddlestone.
We’ve replaced England’s number one with the Brazilian version.
The nucleus of the England U19/U23 isn’t relevant if the Spurs 'kids' never make it into the first team.
Little competition exists, due to us selling players and not replacing them. The competition then turn up in Sunderland shirts and beat us.
Pundits, who did predict success for us, have swept that under the carpet, and prefer to point and laugh. No respect is forthcoming.
We are a realistic destination for panic buys.
We have a DoF system that doesn’t work and is proving to be the catalyst for disaster.
Juande Ramos. Spanish, and unable to speak English, 100% of the time. Looks detached from the on-field mess.
And you, Mr Levy. A chairman obsessed with profit margins and business rather than football progression. What happened to speculate to accumulate?

And if that wasn’t all, over at Arsenal, things are looking more than decent.

They have Theo Walcott.
They have bought the new Zidane.
Key players (Adebayor) have settled their differences and remained at the club.
They have several young super-kids making the grade, and looking great for the future.
They play with pride and passion in their red and white shirts.
The Emirates is still a Library, but they are never short of a good read.

This is not a good time to be a Tottenham fan. We have a decimated squad. Dynasty? This is more like The Colbys. An utter utter shambles. The future is bleak, the future is chocolate brown.

Let’s skip ahead to March 2010.

We have finally have a defensive midfielder. Didier Zokora. He is kicking lumps out of the opposition.
The re-signed Raziak is knocking the goals in for fun with the prolific Kevin Doyle by his side.
Captain Dawson leads us from the back.
No one misses Jermaine Jenas, who signed for West Ham United and is now an England regular (keeping Lampard out of the team). Who needs him with Marney and Reid back in our midfield and the work ethic of Nigel Quashie?
Huddlestone marshals the midfield, dominating the Opta Stats.
Alnwick is a legend in goal.
We don’t have the nucleus of the England U19/U23 teams, but we do have some great discounted bagels in the West Stand
We have a ton of competition thanks mainly to our new transfer policy (Robbie Savage on a free).
Pundits have us down as genuine title winning contenders.
No DoF. Just Terry Venables as our Sporting Director.
And ex-Intertoto Spurs legend, Alan Pardew as coach.
And Steve Nash. A chairman who is leading us clear of the opposition. Eighteen points clear, and well on course to claiming the Football League Coca-Cola Championship.
Champions. Title winners. Open bus parade. Updated version of the Opus on the cards. The cockerel is strutting and crowing.

WE’VE GOT OUR TOTTENHAM BACK!

And now back to the present day, October 2008.

I wonder what the future holds Daniel? I hope your legacy - your five year plan - works out just fine.


Regards,
Spooky

Open letter sent to the chairman, via SSN

Not exactly a masterpiece this one, just a summary of recent blogs. It's also very tv-friendly. The chaps on SSN have been reading extracts from this all morning. I know. I feel dirty using SKY to get my message across, but Daniel never answers my correspondence so I was left with no choice but to use the pure unadulterated evil that is Murdoch's propaganda machine.

Dear Mr Levy,

We are football supporters, and not appreciators of accountancy. You might be good at keeping the clubs finances healthy, but in pure footballing matters you lack the edge that is required to help push the club forward. Too many times in your reign you have failed to step up when it mattered most. When we sat 4th in the table for four months, you failed to strengthen the side that surely would have helped cement Champions League football long before the final game of the season at Upton Park.

You and Comolli have never truly replaced Carrick or sought to finally end the left-wing draught with a genuine left-wing purchase. Look at all the top clubs that compete for honours. They have grafters, generals and grit. We have Jermaine Jenas and Didier Zokora. Why do you always feel the need to buy superfluous players like Bentley when what we need so desperately is a defensive midfielder? Your handling of the Berbatov saga was the final nail in the coffin.

You always knew he would be sold, it was a dead cert, but rather than setting a deadline and price at the start of the summer you preferred to wait until the final seconds. Resulting in us taking a Utd kid on loan. The irony must be lost on you.

As for Pavlyuchenko. £14M for a player who can't speak the language. Has already played several months of Russian league football and doesn't even look 75% fit. He's cup-tied for the UEFA Cup and....this is the bit that takes the biscuit.....he is a similar type of player to Darren Bent which is why we are playing with one up-front.

How exactly is this NOT a panic buy? The lad, on form, will score goals - but was he the signing we needed to replace either Keane or Berbatov? Much like there was no reason to buy Bent when we did. And no reason to sell Defoe. The decision making is criminal.

You've created a mess that Laurel and Hardy would be proud of.

Please have a word with Joe Lewis (who owns ENIC) and stick the club up for sale.

Yours Sincerely,

Spooky

Dear Mr Levy........I'm conflicted

Gone midnight, September 2nd.


Dear Mr Levy,

I’m conflicted. I can’t seem to make up my mind whether everything that’s happened falls on the side of good or abject disdain. As I sit here in the dirt, I find myself thinking if I’ve actually, in some misguided way, done you a favour. Was I better off just letting things run their course to help cement your legacy to the bottom of the sea of failure? Or was I right to be pro-active, stopping the car and it's driver from reaching the Lodge? Am I seeing this from the wrong perspective? Is there an unbinding connection between the two of us? Are you Palpatine to my Skywalker? And if so, why is Jar Jar Binks our director of football?

My car is parked down the road, a safe distance from your home. The boot is locked. And what’s in it is safe and sound, and still breathing. Though will need to be returned to it's rightful owner later on. I’ve been sat here in the hedge, camouflaged, for about an hour. Green paint covering my face. I’ve been contemplating, reciting passages from The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Helps me meditate. But now I find myself whispering into my microphone, dictating my thoughts. My trusted PSP-10 Cybereye second generation multi-purpose night vision system with head-mountable (cushioned for comfort) and additional camera-adaptable, c/w 2 stage IR illuminator functionality allows me to see through the darkness and into your kitchen window as you make your cup of Earl Gray. This might not be Baghdad, but I know how a reconnaissance marine must feel when they are this close to an enemy. The desire to strike down evil is strong. But I resist. My mind uncertain.

I’m using the hands-free on my Cybereye to zoom. It’s definitely the best value for money NVG on the market. Although battery life could be better. And some kind of anti-squirrel alert mechanism would be handy. Vicious little buggers. Boy do they cry like bitches when they get dicked with pepper-spray. Ever since that incident at the Lodge with Berbatov and the squirrels, I’ve had them on my case. I think squirrels everywhere have issued a Fatwā on me for kidnapping some of their brethren and force-feeding them Red Bull as part of my unsuccessful attempt to induce injury on Dimitar, in Operation Nuts.

Sorry. Side-tracked. All is quiet. It’s 02:13 am. It’s a peaceful night. I think it’s starting to rain. I still have a little bit of coffee left. Not that you would care, all comfy and warm indoors. Sitting in your lush kitchen, dunking your ginger nut biscuit into your tea, in your red and white pyjamas, plugging in your laptop. Why do you look so smug? Have we been successful on this final day of the transfer window? Have we? I’m not asking you that question, I’m asking myself. Because I don’t know whether to use my midi-chlorians for the greater good and force you out or to simply embrace the dark side and help the club, even if it means helping you avoid disaster.

Let’s start with Sunday.

Chelsea v Spurs.

A lucky 1-1 survival at the impenetrable Stamford Bridge. Bent once again on his own upfront. Zokora, the enforcer, in a 5-man midfield that included Bentley, Gio, Modric and Jenas in his usual position. So, a 4-man midfield. The defence was tight. The keeper more than capable. But the midfield once more unbalanced resulting with Bent having to make do with his shadow as a partner, heading the ball from Gomes long kicks to nobody. In the first half, we were ineffective. Like an erect porn star with no testicles, where was the moneyshot going to come from?

In that same half, the opening goal came from Bent slicing the ball into the path of Belletti who scored and our equalizer came from Lampard directing the ball into the path of Bent who slotted it in. Darren with an assist and a goal. Not bad for a man on his own, isolated and alone. In the second 45, did we dig deep and defend well to frustrate them or did they simply perform poorly and due to our complete lack of inventiveness and urgency, failed to capitalise in any shape or form?

For all of Zokora’s running around, one misplaced through-ball and he looks to the ground, ignoring the fact that there's still a ball to win back. There he stood, staring at the ground where he lost the ball. Waiting for it to open up and eat you Didier? We live in hope. Tactical changes, we saw Lennon came on for Gio and Huddlestone for Gunter, which resulted with Jenas slipping into the right-back position. It was like watching Duncan Edwards. At least the second half resulted with Modric supporting Bent a little more effectively. All a little bit better than the first. But not great.

Two mistakes, two goals, score draw. Second from bottom in the table. One point from a possible nine. 50 goal front pair partnership gone. Wonderful stuff three games in.

Pavlyuchenko wasn’t signed in time to play in the derby. But apparently he’s injured. Great signing then. A player who has scored some goals in Russia in the past couple of years and a brace against England and three in the Euro’s. Doesn’t sound like you’ve done much scouting on this one, have you? Just watched a bit of tv recently. Will he compliment Bent? Is he a replacement for Keane? What does he do exactly? Can he play in the Premiership? Is he suited to the English game? How long is he going to take to settle? Will he be able to give us what Keane gave us? Or Berbatov for that matter? What’s his first touch like? Does he have tricky feet? Why hasn’t he scored yet? What’s wrong with this bloke? £14M for a player who seems incapable of answering any of these questions from the off. His name is too long for him to be any good. Did someone say Rebrov? No, then I’ll say it. Rebrov. Rebrov. Rebrov. Rebrov. Rebrov. Rebrov. Just slightly taller, not Ukrainian, but with the same goofy smile. And more expensive.

And don’t think I’m going to skip pass Didier Sickora’s new contract, much like most players skip past his non-existent presence in the centre-circle. You offered this sham a new improved four year contract? Does he have pictures of you in a sexually prerogative pose with your car’s exhaust pipe? He joined us from St Etienne following some fine displays at the World Cup. Those are your words from the official site. Some fine displays. Can you possibly define that for me? Did we sign Zokora because Comolli and your good self thought:

“Mmmm, ok, we lack an engine – a true midfield warrior with a silk touch. We don’t have a Gerrard or an Essien, and we sold Carrick to Utd and we keep failing at stealing other clubs academy players whom we can then develop into world class players, so let’s really go all out here. Let’s fill a hole that has turned into a pit of mediocrity by spending some money on a...wait for it...yes, you got that right....a fine player. Yes, a fine player. Not an excellent player. Definitely not a potentially brilliant player. No time for experienced and proven either. We need a fine player. Only needs to have had a handful of fine games. Because that’s what’s missing from our midfield. Doesn’t need to be capable of passing, its fine. As long as he can give free kicks away in dangerous areas, and has that fineability factor we so desperately lack need”.

Liverpool have the dynamic goal-scoring Gerrard. Utd have the orchestral Carrick and the hard-working Hargreaves. Chelsea have the sublime Essien and we have the fine Zokora who had some fine games in a World Cup. Even Arsenal have a better DM than us and they don’t actually have one. What does Zokora do? He runs with the ball in a straight line then shoots widely over the bar. He’s not too far off 100 appearances for Spurs and in that time he is best remembered for that miss at Wembley. We’ve spent a lot of money on Modric – so how can we expect him to blossom and begin to create and score if he has to look over his shoulder in case Zokora tackles him by mistake? Adding Jenas into the same midfield is just taking the fucking piss. That’s like two Zokora’s lined-up to help you out. No wonder Modric looks so pale and fragile. He can’t sleep or eat, all nervous and scared. A day earlier, Kaboul was clearing a certain goal off the line for his new club. Take that Comolli! Four years and counting, your search goes on.

We won’t win a thing with a lightweight midfield. Grit, determination and steel. A holy trinity that has evaded us for the past 30 years. Can that possibly change before midnight, September 2nd?

Do I have time to talk about Jenas? Of course I do. Let me talk about Jenas while you browse the ‘net and enjoy your tea. Reliable. Professional. Disciplined. Vice-captain of Tottenham. Ramos is apparently ‘bringing the best football out of him’. A major improvement in form since the Spaniards arrival. Twenty-four year old Jenas. Still young. An untouchable.

Let me tell you something about Jenas. The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he existed.

Reliable? Reliably inconsistent.
Professional? So is Titus Bramble.
Disciplined? In the art of choking.
Vice-captain? Poster-boy.

Jenas is all hype. The epitome of our club. Our heartbeat, the foundation of what the team should be built on has two players in key positions made of plastic, melting under the spotlight.

But maybe it’s not all down to Jenas and Zokora. Berbatov’s bad influence has been cited by Ramos, and rejected by Woodgate. Mixed up the hymn sheets there chaps? Also, the gospel according to Juande, has Chelsea down as built to be champions or contenders in every trophy they care to enter, signing top-echelon stars from any team in the world, true cream of the crop stuff. And that we are not in their league. We are in a different league. Two clubs moving in slightly different directions. An admittance of frustration? I’m sure Ramos is laying in his bed wondering what happened to that expected flurry of furious transfer action before the window closed a few hours ago. I know I am.

Corluka, who actually passed a medical and wore a Spurs shirt for publicity photos a few weeks back finally, officially, signed on the dotted line. Cometh a new right-back to add to Hutton and Gunter. Who can also play in midfield and at centre-back. Not very well going by the tonkings City have got when he’s played outside of the RB position. £8.5M to ease Modric into London life? Where will he play once Hutton is back from injury is a mystery. I’d slot him into the DM position. Hell, why not? May as well give it a go. Got no one else.

Hmm. IP masking and proxy servers. Bit techie aren’t you Daniel? What are you browsing that amuses you so much? Need to move a little to the left, and zoom in for a better look.

So going into the final day, we found ourselves needing a DM and two forwards. Arshavin has now disposed Diego on the ‘most epic of epic Spurs transfer sagas’ list. It’s on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off. Zenit purchase Danny Miguel for £24M. On, off, on, off. There is utterly no point in trying to run through a timeline of events concerning this summer fiasco. Zenit, moving the goal posts on the value of their player. Spurs, on the face of it, ducking out of paying a few extra million. The player quoted as wanting to join us having spoken to Ramos. Agent talk that the deal is alive. And so onwards again with off, on, off, on, off, on. Never can you trust club officials to speak the truth, much like agents. So we were left in the hands of the ITK’s posting their information on message boards, everyone praying that the deal would go through.

‘Arshavin is 97.45% done. Actually, it’s more 97.22%, but if you’re in GMT then consider it 98.23% when the clock strikes quarter past now. Agent confident. We’ve made a bid. Medical the problem, due to time constraints. He’s apparently in Russia, where I’ve been informed, Zenit are based, but don’t quote me on that. 82% certainty of Zenits current location’.

Then Zenit tell everyone no deal. But apparently, they are fibbing. The ITK’s still claimed it was going to happen. Bid was made, but rejected. Spurs had apparently missed the window of opportunity to seal the deal. A three month window. Arshavin won’t be leaving in this transfer window. Obviously, as an ITK, if you read between the lines, this actually meant the deal is being done or more likely, Zenit are teasing Spurs for more money. I’m guessing the clue is in the word ‘rejected’. Who would have guessed? Once the ITK information grapevine evaporated, we found ourselves looking down into the barrel of a shotgun, about to fire a bullet of disappointment through our imagination.

No link up of Arshavin and Pav. We miss out on an attacking midfielder, something we are crying out for. So much effort to bring him in wasted. Falcao, Milito, Garcia....nothing other than cryptic promises from club insiders. The Veleso link also died, but then it just sounded like a rehash of an old story. No DM either then.

In the midst of all this, over at Middle Eastlands, the Arabs had landed. Suddenly, City were bidding for anyone and everyone. £30M+ for Berbatov. Villa another target along with the German Gomes. The new owners, showing intent and PR. We accept a bid for Berba. You are unlikely to say no, are you Daniel? So off he goes to meet Mark Hughes, but on the way up there he is greeted by Ferguson and co, rushed off to Old Trafford and has a medical and agrees personal terms. Without our permission, Berbatov meets with the manager of Manchester United. The delirium of City potentially hijacking the transfer fades into reality. Utd will get their man.

Zoom functionally at optimum. What the hell are you laughing at now Levy? What is that site?

So tick tock. It’s about twenty to eleven and no fee had been agreed with Utd at this point. City were on the verge of confirming Robinho as their man, having bid for him too. They do what we failed with Arshavin in the space of an afternoon. Midnight passes. And soon we are told that Berba has gone for £30.75M.

Now. Here’s where my confliction arises.

You have turned us into Utd’s bitch. A feeder club, supplying finely tuned players making a jump from UEFA Cup to Champions League. We hiss and fit, but always give in. Arnesen to Chelsea. Keane to Liverpool. And now Berbatov to Utd. Gone, is our complaint to the FA about their conduct. Barry is still a Villa player. Ronaldo, ironically, still at Old Trafford. But we lose Keane and Dimitar in quick succession. And as a further kick in the balls, while we’re already writhing in agony on the ground, Utd loan us Frazier Campbell, he of 15 goals for Hull City, fame. We are embarrassingly shambolic and weak. Spineless and greedy. Business before football our philosophy. Another attempt in ‘standing tall in the face of adversity’ shat on, as we allow Utd to bully us.

Remember your statement on the website when you first told the world about your complaint and Keane and Berbatov’s desire to leave? You mentioned seeking out quality replacements. You knew this was on the cards, yet gone midnight on transfer deadline day, we have a Championship quality forward joining us. If you wanted to do what Martin O’Neil and Ferguson did to Barry and Ronaldo respectively, and that’s ignore their announcements of wanting to leave, then it sort of fails to work if you actually end up selling both players. Just say no to the players. No to the pursuers. But then, a man with no principles simply can’t say no....no to money. Both Keane and Berba were on long term contracts. You do the math. You work it out. It’s happened three times, which means it’s surely going to happen again. And again.

Three long months to nail this player conundrum and we leave it till the last day to tidy up. If you look at what we’ve managed to lose since last season:

Berbatov. £30M
Keane. £20M.
Defoe. £8M.

Almost £60M made. With just £14M spent on Pavlechenko. A lot of change sitting deep in your pocket. Where was our Robinho bid?

All this deflected, momentarily, away from the fact that no DM was forthcoming either. Not sure I’ve mentioned that. So no ‘top class’ forward to help Bent and Pav. No DM. Just a player Ferguson deems not good enough to retain in his squad, for a year at least while he looks on to see if he can handle Premier life.

City, with a rejuvenated SWP and a Brazilian wonderkid, are looking a better bet than us for a crack at the top 4. Why do we wait until the last day? If you want a player, sign him when you want him. Waiting till the last day means you have no certain targets, which means Comolli isn’t doing his job.

One experienced striker available in Europe (Bent), joined by an inexperienced Campbell. Pav cup-tied. One injury and we are screwed.

Mercy.

Great, finally, you’re making another cup of tea which means I can see your laptop screen clearly......Oh. Look at that. You appear to be slumming it online. How drool.

So, anyway. That’s one perspective. But as incompetent as you are leading the club in signing players we need, excluding that, the Dimitar Dilemma is far more straight forward than the knee-jerk explanation everyone is crying about. Hysteria won’t blind my eyes to the obvious.

Ronaldo and Barry have never refused to play for the clubs. They are professionals (although time will tell how professional they are). Berbatov, ‘not in the right frame of mind’, has refused. It’s not been said out loud, but if you make yourself unselectable through sulking, then it counts. And that, regardless of who you are and what you may have achieved or how important or good a player you are, makes you a certified outcast. Keeping a player of this ilk is an insult to the club and fans. He's been sulking since last season over a move.

Keane, respectfully, asked to leave and was allowed to do so, because at £20M you have to bite Rafa’s hand off.

So how did the Berba move pan out? How did you mastermind the transfer of the century? Simply by using the old trusted “tapping up” accusation trick as a scare tactic and bargaining chip. You did it with Chelsea. You did it with Liverpool. And you did it with Utd.

No fee agreed With Utd before 11:40pm on Monday. Fee agreed with City. Yet over at OT Berba is having his medical. What business did he have being there if there was no permission granted? No matter. The fee would be bumped up for Utd to pay extra for the privilege of avoiding a tribunal where they could have potentially lost points for their illegal approach. Sure, people can blame the Arabs for bidding £30M if they want, but the facts can’t be disputed, even if SSN and everyone else want to avoid saying it out loud.

See, I know your game. You drive the biggest price you can when flogging players and you threaten legal action. Utd must have forked out around £6M in ‘admin fees’ for the Bulgarian. Hush money. Immunity.

Why didn’t Fergie just pay the original £28M or so you wanted? Because he thought he could mug you off. He thought come deadline day, you would cave in and sell him in a cut-price deal of about £20M.

I can see it. Everyone, if they can be bothered to look can see it. Deciphering the Da Levy code is easy. You know that pushing a complaint through to the Prem League or FA will come to nothing because dare they even try to shake up a member of the Top Four ™. But in this case, more so than the dossier that apparently doesn't contain enough evidence, on the basis of 'no permission granted', the authorities would have to investigate how this transfer run its course. You dropped the original tapping up complaint, and got paid off for last night’s approach.

£5M or so from Chelsea for Frank. £1M from Liverpool to the Spurs Foundation and a hefty £20M fee. And a massive fee exceeding £30M from Utd. And what if City had not bid? No matter. Spurs would not have accepted a bid from Utd, had it not meet the estimation. So the entrapment would always happen. And you knew it. It was guaranteed on deadline day that Berbatov would travel to OT and would talk illegally to Utd.

Of course, I could be wrong. Maybe for the past several months you’ve been working behind the scenes to bring Frazier Campbell to the club and used the Berbatov situation as a smoke screen in securing the ‘final piece of the jigsaw’.

You truly are a Dark Lord of the Yidth. And there is my conflict. You got rid of a bad apple for a lot of money on your terms. You did 'good'.

But you failed to strengthen the team further during the last day of the window. Doesn't matter about the summer transfers, it's the last day that counts more.

In 2006, we sold Carrick to Utd. You got as much as you could out of Utd, but we were left scrambling for a replacement. In 2007 we needed a winger, a DM and a CB – and got Kevin Prince-Boateng and Kaboul. And in 2008 we sign three ‘playmakers’, one defender and two forwards. Doesn’t sound bad, but it’s an ask waiting for Pav and Bent to do a Berba/Keane combo, and it’s a bigger ask to place our hopes on Bent and Campbell in the UEFA Cup. One up front or two upfront? And still no sodding DM.

I’m sure the panel of pricks over at Sky Sports will be gutted you didn’t part with Berbatov for £20M.

But the fact is, as good as you are in deception and treachery in transfer politics of outgoing players, you are failing to usher in the totalitarian Tottenham Empire. The team, in key areas, is still weak. And your public perception leaves doubt in peoples mind.

Allow me to quote you:


“In case anyone is under the impression that we are a selling club, I should like to once again stress the policy and position of this club. We are building for the future - we are NOT a selling club.

There is a world of difference between a player who has a short period left on his contract and could look to leave on a free transfer, and a player with a long contract.

If, as we do, you have players on long contracts and the finances of the club are strong, you have no need to sell.

I am happy for anyone to judge this club by who we sell and who we don't. Our ability to attract and retain top-class players is key to our ambition to compete at the highest level - regularly in Europe and with our sights set on Champions League qualification."

Carrick. Keane. Berbatov.

Do you understand now why I’m conflicted and confused? 9 in, 9 out this season. For the money made, I expected more. More attacking midfielders and strikers. And a world class defensive midfielder. Sure, everyone was fine pre-season with the squad, but three games in, it’s obvious we are simply not good enough. Is Ramos truly content with having Pav, Bent and Campbell as his strike force? Should we expect more managerial turmoil soon? Will Poyet who looks unhappy in post match interviews walk?

And what do you plan to do with all that money? Fill your indoor swimming pool with the cash and dive in head first, rejoicing a healthy profit margin? I’m sure a debauched orgy with the directors and shareholders will follow at some point. Bagels sprinkled with cocaine and hookers wearing nothing but Spurs home kit socks.

Before I arrived here, to your manor, and positioned myself in this here undergrowth, I spent the day out and about. Quietly policing the vicinity around the Lodge. Out of sight. Waiting. Watching. We wouldn’t just want anyone turning up to Chigwell. The bloke in the tree wasn’t going to pose a problem. I found him mumbling, in some kind of trance, saying ‘Klass-Jan Huntelaar’ over and over again as he rocked backwards and forwards. He was no threat to my plan.

So I waited. And when required, for which I was, I did what needed to be done. I made a judgement call. I got rid of a newly arrived unwanted guest heading towards the Lodge.

See I bleed Tottenham. But you, on a night when Spurs fans are bemoaning the lack of £20M superstar signing, you’re posting on a message board and laughing your silly little bald pale-face off, enjoying yet another homebrew and biscuit. And what kind of username is w8campbell anyway? Could you not think of anything more original?

Fuck this. I’m out of here. Operation Shit Through Levy’s Letterbox is a no go. I repeat a no go.

You are devious Levy, like my good self. But you are not ‘complete’. You have far too many flaws. You do the hard stuff easy, but fumble with the simple things. I’m conflicted no more. We all know what happens to Palpatine.

Doing what needs to be done is something we both strive for. You got the money you wanted for Berbatov but you failed to assist Ramos and Poyet with additional players. As for me, I did what had to be done to avert a potentially catastrophic disaster.

And it’s in the boot of my car. The big soft lump. I did you a favour, that’s for sure. Because if I allowed the medical to happen, it would have been a mistake too far.

Time to switch the microphone off. I’ve got a long drive to Wigan ahead of me. I have something that belongs to them.


*CLICK*

Dear Mr Levy.........The Summer is Over

Dear Mr Levy,

I’d thank you for the grapes but you haven’t sent me any.

Here I am, lying in my hospital bed, typing out this letter on my Sony Vaio. I am not bitter. Or regretful. If it wasn’t for that bloke in the tree then you would surely be congratulating me for a job well done. Instead, we face the prospect of losing Berbatov to Manchester United and the decimation of our club will continue in earnest. I tried. You can’t blame me for that. But it’s questionable why I had to intervene to help the clubs diminishing ego in the first place.

Get your house in order. Each summer you manage to out-do yourself. Just when I think we’ve gone through the final depressing mire, you manage to conjure up another hellmouth of disillusion and disappointment. If I wanted coco-pops I’d have coco-pops, so stop taking a dump in my bowl of corn flakes because I’m sick of you turning the milk chocolatey.

Don’t bin this letter just yet. I haven't completely written us off. In fact, I’m confident for the season ahead, but the cracks you’ve failed to fill are telling and might cost us dear. And this is where the disillusion and disappoint fester. We take one step forward, but then take a step back again before moving forward. Then we repeat it. It’s the perpetual dance of the never ending transition, like Michael Flatley on ketamine.

Robbie Keane is gone. You’ve sold our very own Garrincha to Liverpool, a side we should be targeting to replace in the Top Four. You’ve weakened us and made them stronger by giving them our best player. Keane was the spark that ignited our attacks. The mouth that shouted encouragement. The scorer of great goals. Our consistent twenty-a-season goal scorer. He was our genius. The way he would always try that trick, you know the one, where he pretends to clean his boots behind the goal only to sneak up behind the keeper and attempt to steal the ball away from him. That one time it worked years and years ago, brilliant, just brilliant! It’s like that moment Pele almost scores from the half-way line – unforgettable! But it’s better because it’s so cheeky. Irish charm like that can’t have a price stamped on it. But the moment his boyhood club (not Celtic, his other boyhood club) reveal their interest in him, he decides to go. His decision made faster than you can say ‘transfer request’. If we had kept him we could have made the Champions League and earned the millions from qualification instead. But no, we accept a charity donation, drop the accusations of tapping up and let him go to Anfield. Would Man Utd let Rooney leave? Would Arsenal let van Persie depart? Would Chelsea allow Drogba to walk away? Of course not. They are all irreplaceable, much like Keane was. Their clubs would not even listen to any offers. But us? Every time, we lube up and bend over for one of the big boys to shaft us good and proper. Liverpool must be laughing their heads off getting Keane for £20M. Laughing their heads off.

And how do we replace our vice-captain? We appoint Jenas in his place and compound this by offering him a new contract. Which he signs. I once famously said that whilst Dave Mackey would run through a brick wall for Tottenham, Jenas would attempt to go through the front door, notice he has no keys and then apologetically spend the night on a park bench crying. These days Jenas avoids the front door altogether and prefers to climb onto the roof and play the fiddle until the strings snap and then climb down the chimney and make his way into the deepest darkest corner in the basement, shivering like a leaf. Making Jenas vice-captain is like asking Amy Winehouse to quit drinking. It’s a redundant idea. She’ll quit when she’s dead. Amy needs a slap. Jenas needs a slap too. Are you going to slap him Daniel? Is Ramos going to slap him? I’ve tried slapping him, but the boy can run. And once he’s in his Bentley, there’s no way of catching up. Not on my Grifter. How will he inspire others when he can’t inspire himself? Or should I have faith and brace myself for another ‘this will be his season’ season for the third successive season?

"Maybe, maybe not"

Excuse me for a minute. The nurse is here to give me a sponge bath.

Oh yeah. Mmmmm. Baby, lower, lower…that’s the spot. Right there. Ooh, it tickles.

Where was I?

Right, then we have the Sunderland fiasco. Steed, Chimbonda and TT all sold to the Mackems because we want to keep Rocha, Lee, Ghaly and Stalteri just in case we need cover in key positions.

Kaboul rejected Roy Keane preferring instead Harry Redknapp. The only time there’s an earthquake in Portsmouth is when Harry drops a brown envelope. Should have gone to Sunderland Younis. You’ll look world class up there. I have no qualms about this particular transfer other than why was Comolli not thrown in as a bonus. Thrown into the Thames. £8M is what we spent on Kaboul. When we scouted him, what exactly did we see that was worth £8M? His inability to defend? His lack of coordination?

Comolli. Specsavers. Both avoiding each other with the perseverance of Marty McFly dodging his mother’s flirting back in the 50’s.

And on the subject of defenders, how is it that Ledley King is always stumbling out of Faces, trousers half way down his arse, absolutely bladdered with the addition of a textbook ugly munter and bouncers arms all perfectly captured in a Kodak moment for the ever present Evening Standard? The latest incident happened a few days back. It’s practically choreographed. Preparation for the new season going well I take it? We then have our esteemed manager talking about King as if we don’t know whether he will last the season out. Nothing new here. The bloke obviously has major issues. For a start, his choice in belts is woeful. Go to Top Man and pick yourself up a nice little number. Something that preserves your dignity when you’ve had one too many. And for God’s sake, try something different. Faces is an abomination. Ask John Terry for some alternative drinking establishments and some etiquette do’s and don’ts. Get with the program Ledley and start behaving like a professional footballer.

Ok, let’s momentarily leave the negativity and try to concentrate on the positivity. Because regardless of the fact that I don’t think everything is perfect, you might have fluked yourself a 5th spot placement. Or maybe even 4th. I know. It’s not often I feel encouraged and even though there is still an abundance of hurdles to jump, this summer hasn’t been a complete disaster.

Paul Robinson. The Park Lane’s favourite son is gone. No more chants of ‘England’s number one’ or ‘the ball…the ball, you’re meant to catch it not watch it…oh Christ no, it’s gone in. Again. Why God Why?’. What grand loyalty we have shown him, honouring the long term contract he signed by selling him two seasons later. I jest. The moment he lost form we let him lose it further down the back of the career sofa until all he could find was fluff. And at that point, we discarded him. It was the right thing to do. Blackburn have been practically relegated with this signing. Robinson was the epitome of our progression. We excel beyond expectations; believe in our own hype and then falter embarrassingly. We should have dropped him faster than he drops a cupcake for a doughnut. His Atkins diet was a commendable effort on his part, but made little impact on his performances. I wish him well for the future.

So roll up the next victim of the curse. We now have alleged world-class Brazilian Gomes between the sticks which I’m hoping means no more goals conceded from 30 yards out. Be warned there’s no guarantee of that not happening, because there will be no stopping the shots coming in from that distance thanks to our resident midfield general Zokora who’s idea of closing players done consists of the Tibetan mind trick of wishing the ball away from the opposition player simply by thinking about it. There are people who sit on the back row of the West Stand that get closer to the ball than Zokora. Gomez has his work cut out this season. But it’s ok because he’s gonna hang from the goal bar before kick-off, psyching himself and the fans up. ‘Brazils number one, Brazils Brazils number one’.

Modric is our midfield saviour in an attacking form. Our brand new creative spark. But it’s a bit like having Cannon with no Ball. Little with no Large. He needs a defensive midfielder of true class partnering him in the centre of the park. It’s ok to get excited about his ability but why hasn’t the most vital part of the jigsaw been completed? Skinny small lad is our Modric, but a tough nut having played in the brutal Bosnia and Herzegovina Premier League. He’ll handle himself I’m sure, but he’ll need protection. I am privileged to have him at our club for the next two seasons, and wish him well when he signs for Man Utd.

Gok does not approve

Our other lickle midfielder is the Mexican dos Santos who seems to be doing rather well in pre-season. How exactly have we managed to steal the new Ronaldinho from Barcelona? This surely is our very own Fabregas moment. A new diamond in our crown jewel. He’s going to be amazing for us; you can tell he has the skills. One standing foot, and one kicking foot – there’s no way he will be out of his depth in England. I hate to praise Comolli, but he might have struck gold for the first time. Gio will do for us what Lennon has. Mazzy, dinking runs. Dribbles. Goals, dummies and shimmies. Wednesday evening kick-offs in the pouring cold rain? Close your eyes Gio, and it’s the Camp Nou. Be sure to open them before Konchesky lunges in.

We’ve also spent £15M and a bit on David Bentley. The Manchester United supporting Spurs fan. Legend. A player shifted out of Arsenal by Wenger for very little who now find themselves with a £7M windfall. Who’s laughing now? We decimated Roma, runners-up in Serie A last weekend, and our new winger notched a brace. For me this is the benchmark. If we can dismantle Roma who are two weeks behind English clubs in preparation for the new season but runners-up in Italy, then we can surely beat the big clubs in the Prem and the mediocre clubs away from home. Ramos has done it already. All those poor performances after the Carling Cup Final are irrelevant now. The new-look Spurs have been tested substantially this pre-season and it’s all coming together. Bentley will score and create and give us something different. Like crosses. I remember seeing one of them back when Waddle starred for us. Doesn’t even matter that Bentley played for them lot. We at Spurs will get behind him, regardless of form, and give him the type of support we gave Carrick when he signed from West Ham. We are salt of the earth like that. And if he doesn’t perform at all, then I’ll PM and post ‘FAO’ threads on a Spurs forum venting my anger at his publicity seeking mate.

Gardner has joined Hull for £2.5M. Gardner has left for Hull. Hull sign Gardner for club record. No more Gardner. Anthony departs Spurs for £2.5M. Hull sign Spurs defender. Anthony sent to Hull on Gardening leave. Spurs make £2.5M on Gardner move to Hull. Gardner in three year Hull deal. Gone to Hull. No matter how you say it and how many times you repeat it, you just can’t seem to believe it. Now and again you do surprise me Daniel with these shrewd business deals. For this, no egg throwing when you next visit Tescos. I promise you only profanities.

But alas, the positivity ends here. Let’s move onto Corluka. This particular debacle made me dizzy. Did we bid for him? Did he have a medical? Did he sign a contract? Was any of the tabloid talk and ITK forum whispers anywhere close to the truth? He’s still a City player and we still don’t have a centre-back, which means all our hopes our firmly on Woodgate and King to remain fit. Christ, we’re sitting on a egg volcano that’s about to erupt yolk. And you know where it’s going to settle? All over our faces. The entirety of the summer months and we wait until the end of it to attempt to pay almost £8M for a player who isn’t brilliant, but half decent and would work well as cover. But we don’t actually conclude the deal. For £8M surely we can buy a couple of decent CB’s for cover or just one accomplished CB – because let’s face it - King won’t be playing every game. And Dawson, who can’t seem to play at all if he isn’t partnered up with King wouldn’t be the promising alternative. The lean slim new look Huddlestone doesn’t have the speed or mobility. Unless you stick him in that Formula One car. One out of two ain’t bad going.

As for the Keane replacement and the replacement for Berbatov (that’s two positions, yes?) we have brought in nothing. Darren Bent is our sole striker. Arshavin appears to be our sole target. Is this a summers worth of preparation? We managed to splash £16.5M last season on Bent, surely we can do the same this season? Why have we not signed Arshavin? I know Zenit have moved the goal-posts on their asking price, but with Keane gone there is no need to wait for Berbatov to also depart. If Zenit want £20M, pay them £20M. He looked exceptional in Euro 2008, in that one game. Not so much in the other one but that’s not the point. That one goal celebration where his arms are held up and his head slanted shows this guy also has marketable qualities. A baby-face assassin. The Russian hit man. Not that I would personally buy anything from the Spurs Shop of course. But I know you won’t miss a trick. We must move quickly to beat Barcelona to his signature. Real quick, before they steal in to snatch him up. I know in the past we got burnt with the Rebrov signing and Postiga also, but this is different because we wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. How will he fit into the team? Who knows? But he’s been linked to us for so long if we don’t sign him, it will feel like we’ve lost a player. It’s like Kuyt all over again.

Which brings us to Berbatov. The big kick off is just days away and the Sulk is still stropping his way around the pitch and training ground. Which is where I found myself the other day. At the Lodge. With the Premier League deciding there is not enough evidence to make a decision on Ferguson’s alleged tapping up of Berbatov, everyone is claiming it’s now a done deal waiting to happen. I was more than happy to see my visit to Chigwell was not a wasted one. Because my being there would only be productive if Dimitar was also present. It brought much delight to this urban guerilla. Although at the time I did not foresee it all ending in tears.

The Berbatov saga has dragged on longer than Cliff Richard’s celibacy. It has to come to an end. It’s boring, bland and unnatural and nobody can take it any longer. For the love of God, I need to know! We all need to know! Is he gay, straight, bi, asexual? Why the obsession with Christmas songs? Was Sue Barker a good shag? As for Berbatov, this particular saga also requires a sight is in end. Once again we wait for another nail to be hammered into our coffin. First Carrick. Then Keane. And next Berbatov. A feeder club to the Top 4. Shaking your fist in anger, writing letters to the authorities expecting this to somehow appease us is not going to work. We need to halt this conveyor belt of doom.

Where Ferguson can stand his ground with Ronaldo, we pretend to do the same thing, rejecting bids and looking the other way, knowing full well that we will sell him with seconds to go in the transfer window without a replacement lined-up. But why should we even consider selling him even though the player wants out? Show some bottle and initiative Levy! Buck the trend, even if it costs us - otherwise they will continue to take our players. But alas, you’d prefer us to be mugged off publicly, again.

Hospital food being served up. Excellent. This is like dropping a kebab on the pavement and watching a dog lick it before picking it up and hiding the hairs and fleas by running back into the takeaway to ask for more chilli sauce. Is this mash potato or boiled cabbage? I can’t tell.

So anyway, that’s why I found myself at the Lodge. I decided that the fate of the club serves best to sit in the palms of a loyal supporter. We cannot be bullied by the likes of Manchester United any longer, and with the Prem League turning a blind eye (much like they did when Scudamore failed to act when half our team almost died prior to that West Ham match) someone outside the constraints of official rules and regulations has to tip the balance in our favour.

When Berbs turned up for training, I quizzed myself whether he was simply there to clear out his locker and say goodbye to each of his reflections in all of the mirrors found within the complex. Then he appeared on the turf, kicking a ball and it was soon obvious there was not a whiff of a Utd medical on the horizon. Which meant Operation Nuts could commence. It was simple really. Waiting for one of our inept players to give him a hammy so he’s out for a month would be a waste of time. Which meant the responsibility was with me.

Injure Berbatov, force Utd to look elsewhere. Purchase Arshavin before the deadline. Berbs remains, regains fitness and rejoins the first team as we propel ourselves into a Champs League spot.

I’ve spent most of the summer conducting secret tests, planning out every second of this masterplan. Many badgers have died as I’ve streamlined the operation to perfection. But with practice over, it's was now time to put it into motion aiming for a satisfactory end result. The Bulgarian must sit on the treatment table long enough to keep him beyond the transfer window closure and by Christmas, his heart might find its way back to us.

But you’ll be disheartened to know this was no smooth execution. In fact it was an unmitigated disaster. This was Spurs v Arsenal, 1971 all over again. Gut wrenching.

I waited for Berbatov to walk towards his car after training was concluded. I was perfectly camouflaged. Security out of sight, no other players present. My secret box of surprise ready to be opened. Pandora, stand back.

I jumped out of my hiding place, startling the Bulgarian, and proceeded to throw a balloon full of Red Bull at him. It exploded on impact.

Operation Nuts – Bulgarian Balloon Burst was a success. The ‘it went to shit’ bit was to follow directly after this. As Berbs stood there, shrugging as if Lennon had just misplaced another pass, I opened the box.

Twenty three squirrels, all suffering from caffeine withdrawal, primed for the attack. The second they catch the whiff of Red Bull on Berbatov…nothing will stop them. You’d think that force-feeding squirrels carbonated energy drink for two weeks and then depriving them of it for several days would have a desirable effect. A vicious army of fluffy tailed warriors, ready to do anything for a fix, lunging forwards towards the soaked target.

Almost like karmatic sabotage, it went to shit.

"GLORY!"

There was no forward lunging. They heard branches being ruffled and the over-whelming desire to return to the wild and ignore the Red Bull was too strong for their confused minds. I should have got hold of some Charlie instead, but my budget only catered for the jittery drink. Crack whore squirrels would not have shown such insubordination.

All of them, in unison, turned their backs on Berbatov and their beastmaster and run towards a tree, preferring the clean country air and the imminent shakes of going cold turkey. Obviously all I could do was follow my rodent army before security were alerted, leaving Berbatov bemused by the whole incident.

In addition there was no chance in hell I was gonna let the little buggers escape. It took me the best part of the summer to capture them and train them. Ten hours a day, intensive re-programming, attack formations and don’t get me started on the scratch marks I got from the bottle-feeding.

They were born for this day. They utterly ruined the Red Bull soaked effigy of Berbatov, ruined it. And what they did to those badgers still keeps me awake at night. Doherty, one particularly ginger squirrel with a Hannibal complex, was oh so vicious. My favourite. The other squirrels were hippies in comparison. We formed a bond. The way we both foamed in the corner of our mouths made me believe that nothing would stop us from succeeding.

And yet there I was, standing at the foot of the tree with the little blighters running up it. And there right at the tip of one of the highest branches was a bloke, binoculars in one hand and a notepad and crayon in the other.

“What the paxton are you doing up there?”
“I can see Arsh!! You haven’t got a laptop with a network connection on you?”
“Look, I’m just after the squirrels. I’m not interested in what you can see, you pervert. You want to see arse, get yourself a girlfriend or visit a sauna. The one in Stratford is pretty good.”
“Arshavin!!”
“You’re sick, do you know that? Just keep your voice down and don’t scare my squirrels”
“It’s Arshavin!! ARSHAVIN!! MEDICAL!! MED…I…CAAAAAAAAAL!!”
“For God’s sake, the squirrels man, the squirrels!”

He wouldn’t stop screaming. And with all the shrieking, seconds later led by Doherty, the squirrels grouped into attack formation delta-b and savaged him. What they should have done to Dimitar they were doing to this lost soul up in a tree. I was actually quite proud. Ok, it wasn’t the intended target, and he smelt more of Burger King than Red Bull, but attack formation delta-b is still attack formation delta-b. Direct and decisive.

Before I could take out my N95 and video the glorious moment for youtube, he fell from the tree, body terrorised by my brethrens, and landed on top of me.

The squirrels scattered into the wild. Maybe it was the concussion but I’m sure Doherty winked at me as he trotted off to a neighbouring tree. I’ll never forget that fluffy tail. Berbatov had long since driven off home. And having broken his fall, my binocular carrying friend scarpered away, with a squirrel or two still attached to his arse.

And here I am. In hospital. A few broken ribs, bruises…other battle injuries. Something about a viral zoonotic neuroinvasive disease. Nothing to worry about I'm sure. I’ll be on my feet in no time and discharged hopefully before Saturday.

And that’s when all the hopes of all Spurs fans rest on the opening fixture of the season. A summers worth of analysis and conjecture replaced by fact. 90 minutes of football. One step of 38 to be taken.

I don’t want grapes now. Just the three points.

Yours Hoping,

Spooky

Dear Mr Levy....Whatever happened to Audere est Facere?

Dear Mr Levy,

A round of applause to everyone associated with Tottenham Hotspur, Puma and Mansion for regressing the Spurs kit to a new level of cheap mediocre averageness. Anticipation leading up to the unveiling was akin to waiting for the Keeley Hazell sex-tape video to complete download. Imagine the unparalleled disappointment when all you got from Keeley was a lacklustre blow-job followed by a blokes arse bobbing up and down for ten minutes. The farcical launch of the new kit has left me bitterly bitterly limp.

Well done Mr Chairman. Thank you for retaining the lame light blue travesty. Thank you for retaining the chocolate brown shirt, one that will forever remind us of the day diarrhoea ended our Champions League quest. Oh, its black, not chocolate. My mistake. Still the colour of shit. Thank you for the Chinese wording. If making an impact in Asia is so important we could have asked Pascal Chimbonda to hold the Olympic torch. In Tibet. Without security.

Next season, I'm certain the current paragraph to be found on the home shirt will be extended further with 'Middle of the Road' added to the end of it, just after the further addition of 'We beat the scum 5-1 - buy the DVD in the Spurs Shop'.

Whatever happened to Audere est Facere? You want to know what happened to it? It got dragged screaming by its hair into a dark alley by a speccy bald-headed suspect and brutally mugged the shit out of. We've gone from having Latin on our badge to replacing it with its soppy English translation to then bastardising it further with the weak and embarrassing 'To Wear is to Do' marketing tag-line. All mashed together in a cringe-worthy over-dramatic unveiling that makes me taste vomit in my mouth when I see the pictures and watch the player interviews as they salivate over what is, fundamentally a fucking shirt.

Distinctively Bland

Well Mr Levy, I've got a tag-line for you:

"To take a shit through your letterbox is what I feel like doing to do" you insensitive money-grabbing shande.

Next time, I'll be happy to help out. All I need is a plain white shirt as my canvas and I'll scat and Roman shower my way to glory. I'll produce the same result for half the price. I just can't see how those three shirts were held up high, with everyone agreeing in unison; "YES, THAT'S IT, THEY'RE PERFECT!"

You'll have more chance of selling these new shirts if you packaged them up in a small box and labelled it as 'The Tottenham Hotspur Opus - Price £4000'.

Why the emphasis on 'Casino and Poker'? Everyone knows what Mansion is. They're the company Manchester United blew-out for AIG. Do Mansion lack so much confidence in their 'product' that they need to include a footnote? Do you see Utd adding 'American International Group Inc - Travel Health Motor Household Insurance' on their shirts? Of course not, you fachadick.

Yet we appease the mighty Mansion. Why stop there? How about a Roulette table replacing Robinson in goal. It'll be far more of a distraction for the opposition forwards for a start. Chimbonda, ideal craps dealer IMO. Slot machines in the men's bogs, because we need to be doing something in-between all the smoking, pissing on the floor and singing that God awful racist Adebayor song. Nicky Santoro in central midfield and its peek-a-boo, you fucks, you! Onto a winner for sure, no?

The rabbits we're gonna get and I, I get to tend 'em

All this is compounded further by the fact that Berbatov wasn't at the launch. Yes, worst kept secret of all time - we all know he is on his way out of N17 and onto a 'top top club'. Although even if by some miracle had he decided to stay at the club prior to this shirt launch, I'd expect him to have purposely attempted to contract leprosy to avoid turning up for the photo-shoot. Although looking at the state of Woodgate, you'd think he was infected.

We know Berbatov is gone, but how depressing is it that you proceed to parade Jenas which means he is firmly in the future plans of the manager. We are on the verge of paying up to 10% increases on season tickets for the privilege of screaming and shouting at a player incapable of playing, running aimlessly around in a shit cheap shirt, all the while I'm surrounded by cunts wearing said same shit shirt with their 'nick names' printed on the back because 'Oh look, my nick name is Trigger, please be my friend' - 'No I will not be your friend, you fucking man-child, grow up, you're forty years old and you've bought a replica shirt you melter' while you, Mr Levy, gag on fifty pound notes up in the directors box while Comolli massages Cristal onto your back. And people wonder why other people freeze their shit and create model effigy's out of them and send them first class* in the post with an accompanying letter written in blood stating: "YOU ARE DESTROYING THE VERY FABRIC OF THIS CLUB". Its a self-fulfilling prophecy of depression you are forcing upon us.

*Its recorded delivery, so if you can drop me an email or text when you receive it, that would be grand. If you got time, a quick photo (mobile phone will do) with you by the side of the effigy would be so cool. Need it for the 'Levy is the anti-Christ' Facebook page.

Ignoring the wording on the shirts, Puma appear to be lacking any true creative juice when it comes to changing the bits that aren't white. Somehow they have managed to make the white even more bland and uninspiring by depressing the other bits around it. The shirts pretty much sum up the club in its current state. Its Carling Cup all over. If we had more clout we would not have anything other than the red Mansion logo on the shirt. In fact, if we were any good, we would force them to change their logo from red to blue. But no, instead they get to write a fucking memo on it. We're a walking ,talking, running note-pad, stuck on your TV every so often when you've tuned into Sky and Setanta.

So what does the future hold? What next Mr Levy? Do you plan to lay waste the famous Cockerel? You've already had Chirpy go through one nip and tuck session, so what next? Maybe a Cockerel isn't sexy enough for this new era of fashion you aborted, bloody coat-hanger in hand. How about Barry the Bagel? It's zippy, hip and fresh. I took Harry (from Harry Hotspur) changed the 'H' to a 'B' so it works alongside Bagel (Harry, Barry - same difference, its not like you sell Shakespeare in the Spurs shop). And Bagels are more popular than Cockerels with attached spurs (when was the last time you saw a cock fight other than some Mexicans laying bets on one during an episode of The Shield?). There's also the commercial factor to consider. A bagel is a bagel. Its unmistakable.

But our current badge.....is that a cockerel or a chicken? A football or a basketball? Its all a bit too ambiguous for the modern day market, especially if you're going too tap into the US and Far East.

Barry the Bagel mascot - an artist's impression

The badge (a smiling bagel, with a cheeky wink - think SpongeBob Square Pants but edible) is far more marketable with the kids. Considering we are losing a whole generation of youngsters to the likes of Chelsea, we can win them back with a talking walking skipping Bagel from the Lane. Barry could have his own cartoon show with cameos from the players. You could even shift Kaboul full-time across to the show, the lumbering clown.

But that's never going to happen is it Daniel. Barry the Bagel is just a deluded dream much like the one you're fulfilling at the moment as a Premiership chairman. And you'd have copyright issues with Barry Bagels (est. 1972).

We don't know if we're coming or going at the minute.

You even delayed the announcement on the potential new/or rebuilt 50,000 stadium after various newfeeds run a story about the re-development of WHL. Your official statement was a dross of soundbites that mean nothing other than, you don't really have a clue where this club will be sitting, geographically, 3-5 years from now. Wouldn't have to rely on selling copies of The Opus if you had an extra 15,000 seats. By the way, have you heard of the term, flogging a dead horse? Two words for you: Credit Crunch. Nobody is going to spend 4 fucking grand on a coffee table book. Stop with the serialisation on the official site. We know it exits. You've already wheeled out legend after legend, promoting the damn thing during the half-time intervals. Nobody wants to own a book which you need to read wearing protective gloves and move about the house in a wheelbarrow. Have you not seen the way the masses eat pies on match-days? They take a copy of the Opus home with them, its likely to be sticky with spilt coco-pops within days.

So onwards we go. Final game of the season, and the hilarity of the summer transfer season will be upon us. On Sunday, I will bid my farewell to Berbatov. And no matter the police or stewards present, will stand proud as I burn my season ticket and newspaper cut-outs of the new kit in protest of yet another season of supporter-repression.

Don't hide behind the Carling Cup for too long Mr Levy. Its cold in the shadows.


Yours Sincerely,

Spooky

Memo to Mr Levy

I told you so. I told you about half a million times. I told you with paintballs, I told you with frozen shit pellets. I even told you with piss-filled balloons. But you just looked the other way. And while everyone else was getting over-excited and wetting themselves with sticky glee, I stood as a beacon of truth in a sea of wretched lies. And it’s taken just a short space of time to prove that I was right. Not that anyone cares. Not that anyone notices. People forget and move on. They don’t actually forget, it’s more of a case of placing it on the shelf. History and your spin doctors will have you as the protagonist of change. A king presiding over his kingdom, holding firm in his hands the Magna Carta (which you can pick up for a cool £4000 from the Spurs Shop). It’s all bollocks really. The continuous flow of pathetic propaganda and condescending contradictions. One lie was followed by another, followed by another. All the time you seemed to revel in the fallacy, retaining an air of innocence and professionalism. When in fact it was all more akin to sticking your fingers in your ears and shouting ‘LA LA LA’.

It’s like walking along a road and finding a massive huge hole full of shit in front of you and deciding to swim through it and then half way along you bail out and decide to take another route, a route with no shit-swimming. Just because you’re on a shitless route doesn’t mean that you weren’t swimming in shit earlier. You still swam in the shit. Regardless of the u-turn, you were neck deep in it. Enjoying the warmth, blowing bubbles as your head remained above the sewage. You reek of it. And you simply cannot expect me to ignore the stench.

Your management skills surrounding Martin Jol’s reign as manager and his dismissal and the capture of Juande Ramos was shambolic.

Even with the dizzy heights of two successive 5th place spots, time and time again, I still threatened to burn my season ticket as the ultimate sacrifice. I could see the overachievement. We were simply fortunate winners of circumstance. Outside the top 4, anyone who hits form and enjoys luck will sit pretty above the other teams with UEFA Cup aspirations. Just because you’re 5th doesn’t mean you’re anywhere near catching the clubs who sit in 1st to 4th. But try telling that to a set of fans sitting in a rollercoaster that only appears to be moving upwards.

I was and still am the lone voice in calling for time on your chairmanship and questioning the players mentality and the manager at the club. I protested in blog and in person at White Hart Lane, but all anyone was interested in doing was singing Jol’s name and even yours. Remember that moment? End of last season. Jol on the pitch with a microphone doing a fine impersonation of pot-smoking Winston Churchill, with a rallying speech uniting all in the ground with hope for further progression. He gave you credit, and at that exact second you felt validated as some of the fans sang your name. Did you know then you were going to sack him? Did you politely applaud knowing that behind the scenes everything wasn’t as rosy as the Dutch man would have us believe? You should have sacked him in the summer. But you didn’t. You didn’t take the clean and fresh route. You didn’t make an effort to avoid the big hole full of shit. You preferred instead to dive head first and then swam and swam until Paul Kemsley bombed naked into it with Comolli standing legs apart, writing his name in the shit.

But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Because Jol is gone and in the short time that Ramos has been at the club he has made a mockery of all that’s come before him. All the basics – the very same I have highlighted over and over again – are finally being dealt with. Ramos and Poyet do not care for egos or treading on peoples toes. Should I give you credit for bringing them to the club? Of course not. It’s your fucking job to hire personnel of this ilk, like mine is to turn up every other Saturday or Sunday to support the team.

Under Jol, we were a glorified pub team with one world class player. Unfit, a lack of diet and no development of any kind in key areas. No development of the midfield. No holding or true defensive midfielder. No balance on the wings. Nothing to suggest we would truly break into the top 4 other than delusional day-dreams.

Ramos has been here for 5 minutes. He hasn’t made as great, he’s pulled us from pathetic to acceptable Premiership standard by changing the diet of the players and improving the fitness by about 100%. Set pieces have improved. Players hassle. We look like a unit. It’s still not perfect and there’s still various glitches with the system, but did Jol ever pull the defence apart after a shocking performance and then buy three new players? “Enough is enough”, Poyet commented….and a month or two later we have Woodgate, Hutton and Gilberto. Although whether a crock a Scotsman and a middle-aged Brazilian will improve us over the next two years remains to be seen.

We didn’t even choke in the second leg of the semi-final. In the summer Ramos true test will begin. At the moment, he’s just hosing the shit off your back.

Let me go back to something. ‘Glorified pub team’ was a little harsh. Jol was the best thing to happen to our club for a decade. Though that’s not exactly shocking considering the mis-management of previous chairmen. He was the first manager in a long time that fans loved. He embraced the clubs traditions and history and style of play and tried his very best achieve the success that we – the most egotistical of fans – lust after. However, he had his limitations. The same reoccurring problems that hindered the team would haunt us far too often. And any chance of him growing in stature and decision making would perish forever when you and your army of darkness decided that it was time to look elsewhere. Yet continued to spend millions on players that were dubious in choice. It’s incredible really how something can change over-night. You can look to be in the best of health one day, and keel over clutching your arm with your chest in pain and struggling to breathe the next.

Most would not have predicted this season’s early collapse. The media couldn’t stop harping on about us closing ‘the gap’. They loved Jol. Our fans can be forgiven for having the wool pulled over their eyes. A win here and there can do wonders for delusions of grandeur. But you and the departed Kemsley and Comolli – you are all responsible for what happens behind closed doors. And the moment you decided he wasn’t good enough, you undermined him and inadvertently sabotaged the dream.

You got ahead of yourselves. Believed the hype. Snorted too much, and got yourselves a sickening nosebleed.

Now you may argue that you were looking after the best interests of the club. You could see Jol was not the answer, and as much as it would hurt you looked elsewhere. You made the difficult choice of going behind someone’s back. But from what we’ve seen and heard since, it was more than a catalyst. The director of football structure, and the apparent disagreements on transfers, with Comolli the centerpiece served to push the dagger deeper into Jol’s back. The system wasn’t working and it took down its victims with no remorse. Jol. The fans. Hope of another 5th spot, or better.

You and you alone are responsible for the club. You are also responsible for Comolli and his spending. You are responsible for appointing the manager.

Ramos, is his own man, and any limitations on progressing the team will be down to him obviously, but anything he can’t do because of limitations from the club will be your fault. I’m talking about the power Comolli possesses with the final decision making with bringing in new players. You clearly stated that Ramos was Comolli’s choice. That this is a partnership you believe will work as they are suited for each other. And if it fails, it’s Comolli who will face the axe. Nice choice of patsy. And if the appointment works, then once more you’ll be vindicated.

Ramos, does appear to be his own man. He has apparently rejected 6 or 7 ‘suggested’ players. He has dropped Robinson. He has been realistic over the future of Berbatov. With Poyet along his side, they have boosted moral and belief. I’ve mentioned the diet already, and that’s been highlighted by the media and our own players countless of times. Seeing Huddlestone leaner than ever and the players not overtly collapsing in the final 20 mins of games is a blessing. Actually it isn’t, it’s what any club that aspires to be more than decent should be doing. And the improvement in the likes of Jenas and the continued great form of Steed are massive highlights.

Seems we finally have a proper manager at the club. And that’s why, even though you hired him in the most calamitous way possible, I’ve decided to be magnanimous.

I’m not suggesting a clean slate. Or forgiveness. You are in a position to sit back and allow the people who know their football to just get on with it. Don’t undermine the manager and don’t mug us off.

And maybe spray yourself with a little more deodorant.

Dear Mr Levy: Another day, another lie

Dear Mr Levy,

It’s been quite some time since my last communication to you. I’m not even sure where to begin. Do we talk about the handling of the Jol sacking? The Ramos appointment? Kemsley’s departure? Director of football failure? Talk-over rumours? The re-building of WHL or a potential new stadium? Ground sharing with West Ham United? Berbatov? Woeful Premiership form? At the end of last season I actually believed that I would begin to struggle with finding complaints due to what looked like some form of progression yet this term you have supplied me with so much material I’m considering t-shirts, effigy key-rings and business cards. I’m even looking at a potential future podcast.

What the fuck is happening over there Daniel? Pull yourself together man before the next judge decides that a court injuncture against me following you around isn’t a good idea because having me rummaging through your bins will keep you on your toes. I mean, fucking hell, do you have any idea how easy it is for me to pick holes in your regime? Emperor Levy? Nero would be more apt. You’ll probably blame the Park Lane for starting the fire while you play your violin from your treasured West Stand. I’m sure Berbatov will be standing by you, doing a little jig as all around the fires burn. Taxi to Manchester!

As for the 2-0 win away in Israel. Not much to say other than, it was very average. Even against 10 men. All a bit too uninspiring. Berbatov scored but struggled initially with the memory of what he needed to do with his face on such rare occasions.

Yes, that's it, flex those facial muscles, yep, almost there...almost there.....and....that’s it! A smile! Incredible movement from Berbatov! I've never seen anything like it!

Midfield was more sideways than forwards. And considering the second half was practically a training session, its a little concerning that we couldn't add more goals. But no reason for a sudden surge of ideas and imagination in the creative department. It's still the same old players out there. Including Jenas. The immovable object. Dave Mackay would run through brick walls for Tottenham. Jenas would apologetically whisper that he has lost the keys for the door, then sleep on a park bench for the night. He usually destroys weak teams because that's when he's in his element. Play Jenas against a under-15 team and I'll tell you this now, he would score a hat-trick, nailed on. His free kicks will still be shit though.

At least KPB is playing more often. Seems Ramos rates him an awful lot more than Jol ever did. Not surprising though considering Sevilla were also after him until the Spanish team pulled out and Comolli signed him for Jol. Well, actually no he didn't. He signed him for Ramos. Unofficially his first signing for Spurs, no?

Wasn't impressed with Berbatov in the 2-0 win, even with the goal scored. Far too much complaining and moaning and arm swinging and rolling of the eyes - again a case of 'business as usual' for our only world class player although it feels more like 'closed for the holidays'. In fact, apart from Steed and Keane, the whole team was still struggling to come to terms with reclaiming even an ounce of confidence and swagger. All a bit too fragmented and lackluster. As for Bent, at this rate, we'll get £2M for him from West Ham. Looks like we've been stitched up there good and proper. And going back to the Bulgarian again, he still has the look and movement of a man with constipation. His only performance of quality this season from him was up at Old Trafford. Funny that.

The BBC approve of anti-Jenas propaganda. Good for them.

Anyway, this is not going to be one of my full blown three page letters. I’m going to wait until after the Wigan game before I put pen to paper and rape and pillage my way through a thesaurus as I throw damning incitements and sardonic words your way. This is just a mini-letter. A teaser. And I’m going to pick out a random subject matter and state my opinion on it because I need to blow off some steam before Sunday's 'The Biggest Game in our History™' clash with Wigan. Lets talk about, I don’t know….maybe, I suppose, we should go with……something random......how about...Berbatov. Sound good to you?

I see you have allowed The Sulk to post his statement via the official site, renouncing all the rumours about his future. As see-through as tracing paper IMO. It’s all just a rather obvious ploy to quiet down the mass hysteria of the rumours, isn’t it? Bit like that time Kemsley marched off to Spain to meet Ramos and not offer him a dizzying deal. Bit like that time, isn’t it? Remember? Spain? The meeting with Ramos? Kemsley, with the talking and the offering? No? You don't remember? Amazing. You posted a statement claiming it wasn't true. Something about the newspapers being wankers.

Ok, foreplay over. Le'ts just cut to the chase. Here’s the real timeline of events that are masked behind your dark tapestry of untruthness:


Man Utd inquire about Berbatov
Spurs reject bid
Berbatov is unhappy with not being allowed to leave
Berbatov sulks during pre-season games
Spurs struggle with internal politics which results in a woeful start to the season
Berbatov and Jol do not get along
Berbatov doesn’t appear to be pulling his weight
Berbatov sulks
Berbatov and Jol's miserable double-act takes centre stage at Newcastle defeat
Newspapers have a field day with Spurs lack of form and Berbatov being blatantly unhappy
Comolli meets the player and his agent for 'showdown talks'
Spurs release a public statement on the official site that states Berbatov isn’t leaving – but clearly states ‘January’ and doesn’t mention whether the player will remain after the summer
His dad claims his son wants out
His brother claims he wants out
Berbatov releases a public denial, via the Spurs site and claims everything is a lie and that he is remaining at the club and that he loves the club
This statement appeases the Spurs faithful
The tabloids are slammed as scum by the fans for bullshitting
Comolli and Levy laugh as their masterpiece falls into place
Berbatov no longer has the uncertainty the fans were experiencing to worry about, so will not get abuse from the stands for wanting to leave
Fans will sing and chant his name
Fans believe everything he said, because ‘surely, he would never lie about something like this’
Privately the club have told Berbatov he can leave when an acceptable bid is made
Spurs know that if the player ‘publicly’ states he ‘loves the club’ and doesn’t want to leave, then other clubs wont make cheeky bids undermining his true value in the transfer marker
If the player publicly ‘wanted out’ then clubs would not make bids that match the value of the player
Berbatov has the press and fans off his back and his wish set to come true
His agent gets ready for the January/End of season transfer window
Levy rubs his hands at the thought of £20M
Spurs sell Berbatov for his true value and take the heat for selling the player
The penny drops for the 'faithful'
Spurs fans are mugged off



Sound about right, Daniel? How about you reply to me on this one? If I’m wrong I will change the name of this site to ‘I HEART LEVY’ and post a poem per day about my undying love for you and your shiny bald head. And in addition, I’ll move from the Park Lane End to the West Stand and eat bagels at half-time. I’ll even visit the Spurs Shop. No, not with my ‘BOYCOTT FASCIST MERCHANDISE – DON’T SUPPORT LEVY’S PERSONAL TRUST FUND’ sign. I’ll be armed simply with my wallet and will max out my American Express Paupers card purchasing the Spurs home shirt along with posters and scarf’s. You know that bloke with the megaphone that stands on Bill Nicholson Way preaching about Jesus Christ? I’ll have words and borrow the megaphone and spend pre-match telling the home faithful that you are the true messiah and not that pansy Hoddle. As for Jesus, always thought his life was slightly exaggerated in print. I mean, we all think Bogart said ‘Play it again Sam’ in Casablanca and yet he never did. So if we can’t remember something from 1942 which has been repeated about ten billion times, how the fuck is anyone certain about some words written down by a bunch of dudes a couple thousand years ago? Jesus was either a hippie or a student and the people that wrote the bible were probably just larking about trying to make a fast dollar. Anyway, this isn’t relevant, stop forcing me to go off topic!

It’s in your hands Daniel. I want a reply. I don’t expect you or Comolli to post a statement on the official Spurs site denouncing this letter. That would be a nice touch though. But if you want to prove your worth and your word, then take your balls out and stick them in my mouth. There’s no risk, is there? I mean, worst case scenario is I’m proved right and I bite them off. If I’m wrong and the statements the club and player have made are not propaganda, then I will have to suck them. And unlike Kyle, I won’t be running off in the opposite direction.

See, you and me Daniel, we’re not that different. Yeah sure, you’re rich. You picked up a cool million in ‘wages’ in the last financial year and live in a big house. Four bedrooms, possibly five. And your fitted kitchen is lush by the way. And that coffee machine, fuck me, wow. Where did you get that? Makes a mean cup indeed. I don’t have a mansion, I live in a flat. Two bedrooms. Though I use one of them as a living room. And my kitchen is quite smile, though I got a decent Brita kettle with those fitted filters. But ignoring minor differences in material possessions, we are not that different. We are both passionate about our beliefs. Except your beliefs are wrong. Time you stood up Levy, shaved those grapes between your legs and showed them to the world.

So, am I wrong Daniel? Am I? Is Berbatov really going to stay beyond January and the summer? I doubt it. And you know it. Its damage control, plain and simple. Much like the support for Jol in another one of the official statements on the site - and a month later he was gone.

Another day, another lie. And plenty of dollars on their way to the clubs bank account. I had a momentary lapse in concentration, believing and trusting the club and player over this, but I have seen the light. And that light has failed to blind me.


Yours 'wont be fooled for a second',

Spooky