I just can’t take ‘Spursiness’ anymore

I just don’t know what to say. At least to my knowledge no one got hurt. I never want to see Juan Foyth in a Spurs shirt again. I am angry beyond belief at Heung-Min Son for threatening so much of what Pochettino and this team have built over the past several seasons in a single moment of furious stupidity. The fact that Jefferson Lerma might loom as the most important individual of the ending of this season boggles the mind. But, regardless of what happens Wednesday– and be serious—no one expects us to advance and if somehow we did Messi will destroy us in the final—Everton could destroy everything next Sunday.

Mark Travers is 19 years old and was making his debut. So, of course, Lucas tests him early as the keeper had moved off his line and just barely misses a 50 yard strike. Then in progression he thwarts Dele with a hard shot upper left, Lucas on the type of play he scored v Huddersfield (remember that day—when we still felt good), Lucas again on an over the top ball that he controlled to perfection and missed the opening by about six inches, and Dele again on a header. Spurs were easily the better side, halftime was approaching, Son had won a free kick, Lerma does what many do in trying to kick the ball away from him and somehow the red mist comes over the Korean and the world changes.

So Poch figures at half time that I need to get a result. Aldeweireld is on a yellow and Eric Dier has been miserable—could easily have been sent off earlier but Craig Pawson couldn’t tell that he had missed the ball on his challenge, and then got tangled up with Callum Wilson near Lloris and could easily have been hit with a penalty—so bring on Wanyama and Foyth. Well, he got one of them right. Two minutes in and Foyth decides to take matters into his own hands and is rushing toward midfield but loses control and then in an even worse moment of madness he wrecks into Simpson studs up and while there are times when a referee might not see red, this wasn’t one of them.

Give the nine remaining credit for all they did for nearly 45 minutes—it appeared as if Bournemouth had run out of ideas and Moura, Dele, Eriksen and Sissoko almost produced a couple of chances for us. But corners were always the big risk and eventually someone would get free and it was Nathan Ake and that was that.

I don’t know what to say. The losses to Southampton, Burnley and West Ham have exposed this team in the final two months as being weaker than any other side in the past three seasons. Injuries, lack of depth, fatigue, and some erratic play up front. But I never dreamed we would capitulate in this fashion. There is no way our rivals won’t seize on this and force us to win next Sunday. I’m not sure which is worse—a miracle Ajax result that presents at least a slight hope of a trophy but is accompanied by a failure against the Toffees that sends us to Europa League—or two miserable failures to close out the season of such promise in the worst possible fashion.

I do know this. Pochettino—should he stay—has a lot of work to do. He has to decide just who he can count on going forward. Eric Dier is a mess. Lamela appears shot. Eriksen seems to be heading to Spain. Tripper has regressed. And two players who, before today, one would have counted on for certain, just let their teammates, manager and fans down at the worst possible time.

Nobody could have written this script. But it’s not funny or entertaining anymore. This is hell. I cringe at having to watch this week. After today…after Kane’s injury, Son’s suspension, the terror and joy of the Etihad, the meek play vs the Hammers, and the stupidity of this game… what is left? Where is our Arya Stark? She had better show up soon, or the Long Night might be upon us.