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Where did it all go so... RIGHT!


Filed: Thursday, 11th May 2017
By: John Courtney


So the dust has settled, you've still got that smug look on your face, you have given it to the Spurs fans on social media.

You've watched (or read on KUMB) the Spuds go into absolute meltdown after the routine win they expected - it was just a question of how many they would score - failed to materialise in the spaceship on Friday night.

Their first visit to our new…erm, home. (Shall we call it that yet?) To be honest I’d had a few too many in anticipation of a massacre. It wasn’t hard to work out was it? Bookies offering odds of 8/9-1 on a home win? Well it was rude not to have a tenner, just in case.

But then as the game kicked off something happened; something happened that has been all too infrequent this year. We looked right up for it. Harrying, pressing, playing like it meant something, playing for the claret and blue shirt.

Playing for us, playing for pride, playing to stop those know-all, smug twats from North London whom everyone - and I mean everyone, hates - getting anywhere near the Premier League title. They came close last year and have gone even closer this year; too close for comfort.




Privately many of you will, like me experienced a moment where we imagined Spurs actually winning the league - and, probably like you, it made my stomach churn. Smug looking fools who believe they have a divine right to a league title through playing the best football!

Well the table doesn’t lie does it, you don’t get points for looking good, you get points for winning games.

So, it was our cup final… hmm. Yes, I guess it is if you like wiping the smug looks off their faces, or enjoy being able to walk into work with a swagger and giving them a look as if to say: "Go on, say something - on no, you can’t, can you. Yes, us lot, AGAIN!"

Plus, the November defeat hurt. Our shambolic surrender at White Hart Lane was one of the worst feelings I’ve experienced for a long, long time. A game we should never have lost (and who knows, one that may have shaped our season differently had we held onto that 2-1 advantage).

I read a great piece (on KUMB) the other day referring to our so called 'Cup Final', but the way Tottenham fans have celebrated finishing above Arsenal is basically the same (for Spurs it’s make the rules up as you go along). I guess all football fans are the same in some respects, but to be compared to that lot? No way!

Back to the game. The first half came and went in a blur (beers helped) it was nil–nil, we could still enjoy that half time pint (or two) and we were still level. Adrian had played well and instilled confidence in the back pushing them further up the field, encouraging them, a higher line, harrying time after time.




Dele Alli had been given no time to dictate play, largely due to the close attention of an inspired Mark Noble. (He loves playing against this lot, doesn’t he?) As does our Little Jewel; right place, right time - or just somebody who has stepped up since The Snake left?

And step up he has - and to think he will only get better and dictate more games as he gets older. A goal; a lucky bounce to him, but how many times has it not fallen to one of ours? How many times do the opposition get that lucky bounce, or a 'keeper has the game of his life!? (Think Leicester.)

Well, on Friday it was our turn. The scenes; the joy, the absolute, pure unadulterated joy at scoring against this lot as little Manuel ran towards us celebrating. We didn’t know what to do; there was no linesman’s flag, no obvious infringement. We’d scored against these mugs!

Now they’d have to score two to win... whilst that was possible with their quality, the way we were playing at the back meant it'd be extremely tough. Could they raise their game and prove, tonight, they were having it ? Of course they couldn’t.

Alli looked a little boy lost. (Alli to Real Madrid? Not on this performance.) Meanwhile Harry Kane looked like our very own Simone Zaza. As the crowd grew louder and the clock ticked down, we raised our game another notch or two. This was happening.

10 minutes to go, five minutes to go. Look at the Spurs fans (my friend Ross said to me) - they had gone, the bottom tier was empty. They only needed two goals, that was a regular occurrence for Manchester United in their heyday.




Chelsea would probably have got a point, but you know what? They didn’t want to see us win 'our Cup Final', which means it does hurt them. You only have to read the timeline on KUMB to see it in all its glory.

They hate us, they despise us, but we are not rivals - right? We all know they are light years ahead of us this season and for that reason, Friday evening hurt them. It really hurt. It'll take them a while to get over it.

Let that sink in. Enjoy that feeling, enjoy every single moment of it. Like mugs, some of us will renew our season tickets in renewed hope on the back of that one result, that one glimmer of shining light in a dreadful season.

Hope keeps you sane? No it doesn’t, hope kills you... "and like my dreams, they fade and die..." On Friday they didn’t die, on Friday those bubbles rose up like the pretty bubbles they always are. So for a few more days until Sunday, enjoy this feeling.

You forget how nice it feels, when you are continuously kicked in the nuts you get used to it. Supporting our beloved Irons has been so tough this year. Onwards and upwards? Who knows, but for one week this season, at least, you can hold your head up high, be smug and enjoy that feeling of beating the best team in the land.

Apparently the table does lie…


Please note that the opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of, nor should be attributed to, KUMB.com.







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