Werewolves of London

Tottenham Hotspur Stadium
Dom Le Roy

Well, one in particular that Warren Zevon and Lon Chaney would, were they alive, be raving about. Spurs won their third successive derby game in the Carabao Cup competition with a simply exquisite performance from Dele—among several others—and now complete the Capital circle with a home and away tie with Chelsea. Whether it is better to ultimately play City in a one-off or have them first (Burton Albion being the true lottery jackpot, but we were never gonna get them) is open to debate. But this is how it falls and everything about our demeanor tonight suggests a seriousness that is directed at the prospect of silverware.

As for our lead wolf—let me state something right upfront. There are better playmakers (David Silva), better defenders (N’golo Kante), better all around attackers (Kevin DeBruyne) and even better midfielders/forwards (Eden Hazard and Mo Salah). The best all around midfielder in the Premier League wears Number 20 and plays for Tottenham Hotspur Football Club. Dele was the clear MOTM, for his pass to Son for the opener, for his exquisite run and dinked finish when set up by Kane for the clincher, for the way he kept his cool throughout the game and particularly when some Gooner idiot hit him square in the head with a plastic bottle. He is 22, and looks 27 and plays like he’s 32. What a marvelous player he is becoming—and we have not the best yet.

Son deserves credit for the opening goal; Kane for immediate impact from a very intelligently timed substitution by Poch, Winks for directing traffic, Sissoko for the engine running—I think he has become Victor Wanyama in terms of the way he lords over the middle of the pitch (As for his finishing, he should contact Woolwich stewards because that bottle-thrower was proper accurate, wasn’t he?), Ben Davies was a rock at center half for the second game, Gazzaniga got lucky a couple of times, but also made two stellar stops the type that are beginning to define him. And Danny Rose is simply vintage 2016 Danny Rose—a friend who is a neutral observed that he had “Maitland Niles in his back pocket” all night.

A deserved victory. Arsenal were coming on strong before the half, but not too long after the break we turned the tables and then with Dele’s goal our job was pretty much done. And Piers Morgan looked hilarious in a Spurs shirt—made it all worthwhile. Nice to leave all the Manchester United speculation behind for an evening—I simply do not believe at this particular time—and that includes the summer—Poch is going to leave us for that hot mess, no matter how much money they dangle at him. We are alive in four—count ‘em—four competitions. Goodison over the weekend. Tranmere on the horizon. Then Chelsea. Then Dortmund. Who knows? We might get five more games with City this season—so at least we’ll get familiar with them.

But I like this London swath our army is creating. We went north to Milton Keynes to vanquish the Hornets. Went South and East to defeat the hammers. Went just south to best Woolwich. Now west—both times—to handle Chelsea. It just seems fitting that our finale at Wembley might not be a league game or even a Champions League game—but a trophy game.

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