Like any good fan, I get a little worked up while watching my team play.
In short, I scream—a lot.
I scream with joy when Defoe slots home an impressive goal. I scream in frustration when Kaboul thinks he can do better and leaves a porous defense all the more so. I scream directives at the team when it seems ‘arry isn’t getting it right. I scream when Adebayor thinks this is a video game and offside has been turned off. In fact, the only time I don’t scream when watching Spurs play is when Gomes is playing—because I’m too busy holding my breath.
Lately, though. I don’t care about all of that. Win or loss, the main focus of my vocal vivacity seems to be focused on prayer.
Not the “please let us smite our cross-town enemies” kind of prayer as much as the “please—for the love of Bill—get up.”
That’s all I’m asking out of my team anymore. Just get up.
Please, please, please. No, physios. Stay off the pitch. No, please put the stretcher away. Magic spray is all that’s nee—NO MARTIN TYLER THAT WAS NOT A PARTICULARLY NASTY LOOKING KNOCK, HE’S GOING TO BE JUST FINE…please.
I can’t take it anymore. Our squad list is thinner than Brad Friedel’s hair. My face is changing colors more often than Sandro’s hair.
Blackburn, then, is just about the last team I wanted to see this weekend. Thanks, mostly likely, to my pleas to the heavens, it appears we somehow got out of Ewood unscathed. Relatively.
The three points, coupled with the pedestrian performances of our top-four rivals, will go a long way in helping us move up the table.
But we’ve been a mainstay at the top of another table for what seems like about six years. As usual, Tottenham Hotspur leads the league in players sidelined and nursing injuries.
According to physioroom, we have seven players out for the foreseeable future. The league average is between two and three.
Why is this? Are we an especially physical team? Not hardly. Are we weak and paper-thin? Only in defense. By all accounts, our trainers seem competent, and Redknapp doesn’t have a history of running his team ragged in practice—it seems just the opposite.
And they’re not third-teamers nobody’s heard of, either. We are without three clear starters for the long term, and one Jonny Evans or Nigel De Jong horror show away from Roman Pavlyuchenko, CB.
What’s the solution, then? Whine when our players are called up to international duty? Put the entire team in cotton wrapping?
I’m not so sure. But I’m a fan. It’s my right to complain, knowing full-well I couldn’t do it any better.
The answer potentially lies in numbers. We have the highest number of players out, so perhaps we should have the highest number of players period. Especially in defense. Cahill could’ve really helped shore up the defense, and although Bassong wanted to go as part of the deal, we need to buy someone like Cahill in January, while working hard to ensure that we keep Bassong. And Kaboul.
And the fact that I’m having a hard time naming another non-injured center back just goes to prove my point.
As long as we keep players with knackered knees and groins of glass, we need backup. And backup for that backup.
Please. I’m begging. Don’t make me scream.
By Cliff S
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