What ho, and I trust you are in as fine fettle as AANP, for today's basic algebra lesson is that
a win today will take us third, and with a game in hand no less. Crivens! Let's ruddy well get out
there, dominate, take the lead, sit back, invite pressure, concede one and hang for dear life for
those three points!
The dust may have settled, but it would be frightfully remiss to pootle along any further
without casting a beady eye over the various to-ings and fro-ings of the transfer window. Step this
way please...
Welcome to the Lane...
Scott Parker
Curiouser and curiouser, we now somehow find ourselves bottom of the table yet with both of last
season's Players of the Year in the ranks.
Optimism to follow, but it would be remiss to begin proceedings with anything other than the
nasty business of a post-mortem...
The Arnie Approach
In the absence of our recognised midfield enforcers, our glorious leader adopted the cunning
tactical ploy of leaving the back-four without any protection to handle a City front-line so shiny
and expensive they had Tevez on the bench, while the rest of our team was crammed with attacking
types .
An early preview, as I'm off gallivanting for the weekend, and for the second time in a week
this all looks rather ominous. City's charming social experiment into whether money can indeed buy
you everything has turned them into something approaching the equal of the United side that so
emphatically dismantled us last week.
Like the Queen visiting the troops in Helmand in a symbolic gesture to bolster morale, we
lilywhites need something to raise spirits, for few amongst us found anything comforting in Monday
night's debacle and gloomy faces abound. Timely then that that Hearts are pootling along the High
Road to be given the run around tonight, for another gentle, if pointless, five-nil win would be
timely.
Five goals away from home, five different scorers, clean sheet, no injuries (I think) and
run-outs for squad members and kids alike – long may this continue. It could be that Hearts are
actually awesome, and we are in fact better than Brazil 1970, but a win that comfortable inevitably
points to abysmal opposition.
And so, finally, off we go, in the rather unorthodox settings of ITV4 and Edinburgh. It is a
truth universally acknowledged that any Scottish team whose name does not rhyme with either
"Beltic" or "Changers" is there for the taking, so first game of the season or not, this lot must
be destroyed. ‘Arry has understandably enough made noises about fielding kids and reserves in
the Europa League, but while none of us want injuries ahead of the United trip on Mon, it would
nevertheless make sense to field a full-strength side tonight.
Spurs fans born yesterday – or at least since around 2009 – may disagree, but following up
victory at the San Siro with defeat at Blackpool would not be the most unlikely turn of events at
for the heroes of N17. Mercifully the current vintage seem just as capable of digging out tricky
away wins to lower-table scrappers as they are of churning out a never-to-be-forgotten glory night
in one of Europe's premier arenas – which ought to prove jolly handy tonight, as our walking
wounded leave a blood-stained trail from N17 to Blackpool pier.
And so it continues. Five minutes ago Man City and Chelski were just expensively-assembled
specks in the distance; but three hard-earned wins later and we now pose them a problem they will
be unable to solve simply by reaching for the wallet and hurling foreign currency around. Take
that, you rotters.
Last-minute winners and multiple penalties are the least we have come to expect from a 90-minute
adventure at the Lane, but as the cheery dissection of events was conducted at AANP Towers one
question sprang to mind, yet to be satisfactorily answered: what the devil happened to that third
penalty we were awarded?
One down, seven to go - the dream of a run of eight consecutive League wins remains, at least
within this particularly deluded little mind. This afternoon's task will not be easy - Bolton
outdid us on their patch earlier in the season, and in Kevin Davies have precisely the sort of
striker whose presence makes me shudder from my Park Lane vantage point.
Everyone feeling better now? As is typically the case with our one-nil wins it was all
frightfully nervy stuff towards the end, what with the aerial bombardment and off-the-line
clearances, but three cheers for a clean sheet and away win. Huzzah, huzzah and thrice I say,
huzzah!
AANP: Pretty Ignorant When It Comes to Football
So having banged on to anyone who will listen for past six months about how useless Crouch is
with his head, lo and indeed behold the sight of the gangly one nailing an absolute textbook header
in the opening moments.
Our heroes have made a pleasing habit of dispelling various hoodoos in recent months, and the
latest to present itself is a ten-year drought against the eleven men of Manchester United and
their various assistants in black. Over the last year or so we have torn apart some of the cream of
Europe, with United's the only scalp now missing, and while unbeaten our visitors have looked far
from invincible to date this season.
And now for something completely different. At third (and, later fourth) round stage the FA Cup
hardly constitutes fixture congestion, so the question of where it stands in our list of priorities
can probably be deferred to another day.
Bingo cards out then, as we look to cross off the names of various squad members last season
posing merrily in the club photocall back in August.
Hmmm. And flying forward in attack at every opportunity, in gung-ho and open manner,
irrespective of who we were playing, where we playing and whether or not we were even in possession
of the ball, had seemed like such a fool-proof plan. After all, if 2010 taught us anything
it is surely that no matter how many we concede we will always score more?
Around ten days ago I mused that I would have settled for eight points from our four
Christmas-New Year games. Three games in and we already have nine, which means that the riotously
good fun continues into 2011 – still not yet out of the title race, most definitely still in the
Top Four race and looking down upon the rotters from Stamford Bridge, languishing beneath us.
