We All Know One of These

Article by Taz Demetriou

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The expert on all things Spurs. The last game he went to, Gazza was picking up Mars bars thrown at him by opposing supporters. He now ‘watches’ the game on the radio. Or even some dodgy Arabic website which freezes so often, the live game has finished but he’s still only halfway through the 2nd half. His expert analysis is based on the 5 minutes of MOTD highlights and the views of he of the drunken slur (Alan Hansen).

The final whistle had only just been blown and my mobile was ringing. We’d lost the game and my mate Victor Meldrew (we’ll keep his real name out of this for fear of my safety), was already calling to have a moan about the game. We were shite. Dawson’s too slow. Rose should go back to Sunderland. Soldado was a waste of money.Townsend is greedy. Sherwood’s a nutter. And it goes on.

The thing is, Victor knows I’d also be fuming about the result but still he calls. If I don’t pick up, it hacks him off and he leaves a short sharp message before slamming the phone down. If I do pick up he’ll say “I know what you’re like. I bet you’re fuming!” Well daaaa!

If you know what I’m like why call me as soon as the whistles gone? Your phone call winds me up even more, if that’s at all possible! Give me a chance to vent my frustration out on next doors dog, or my Mrs, who happens to be a Gooner! (passive gooner thank God).

It’s the same at half time. As soon as the half time whistle goes, like most fans, I rush to the loo. Nerves and all that. I take my mobile with me because I know you’re going to call and I don’t want to miss your call because that would really hack you off, wouldn’t it?

And I haven’t even mentioned your texts throughout the game. They only stop when you call me!

I miss half the game texting you back because if I don’t, you’d be really really hacked off!

As all Spurs fans who go to The Lane know, mobile phone reception is rubbish. You call me at half time but can’t get through. You call me straight after the game but can’t get through. You leave it for a while then call again. “Your phones rubbish. You should change it”. And off you go again. Vertonghen doesn’t care. Lennon has no end product. Blah blah blah. I leave my phone on the table and come back a few minutes later and you’re still talking! I swear you never take a deep breath!

Despite all this, you are my football fix and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

Like I said, we all know one of these. You know who you are.

To my mate Victor, I love you man. Please don’t ever change. I can’t wait for the next Spurs game.

COYS

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