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Stop! Spurs-ing Time!

‘’U Can’t Touch This’’ is a song by MC Hammer ( Stanley Kirk Burrell ) from his 1990 album- Don’t Hurt ‘Em, not only is Chelsea singing, you cannot touch the trophy, West Ham was told not hurt them as they are all London neighbours, but they had other ideas. A No 1 top of billboard chart for months continues to soar in popularity, many thanks to Tottenham Hotspur who just did a remix that will be No1 again up until next season, as West Ham ‘hit them where it hurts most’.

Kaboom! Toilet-ham Spurs blew it, with 10-pound syntax, C4 explosive, as usual, one gets the feeling of a Boko Haram recruitment exercise. Spurs as we know have lost their last 3 premier leagues games in the month of May, 2016, and lost only 3 out of 34 matches between August 2016 and April, 2017. It’s deja vu, a serial capitulation in the last weeks of League seasons (same week, same heartache, same nightmare), from Lasagna-gate under the great Martin Jol in 2006 to the ruthless 5-1 demolition by the magpies, then that run of 3 draws to hand over the league to the ‘foxes’ last season. Why, O West-ham, why…having ended Spurs Champions league qualification dream 11 years ago wasn’t enough for you, poison or no poison. You just had to ‘’hammer’’ them away from the title this time.

On paper it was an easy kill; at kick-off, Spurs had won 9–in-9, contrary to WestHam’s one win in 11 matches. But like they say, you just never know, Tottenham did what we all expected them to do, kaput!. They surely can’t get the job done, more like an Arsenal trying to win the league or beat Jose Mourinho. When it comes to crossing over the finish line, Spurs enter a mental block, they fail, they go blank, and or shuts down. Looking at the team, you begin to wonder why, they have some of the best defenders, attackers and midfielders in the league…their 40% representation in the “’team of the season”’ is a testament.

They bungled the FA Cup, Europa league, Champions League and now, the Premier League. “Is there anything left to blow up?” a humbled Mo Poch will ask in the dressing room…the boys surely loves playing with explosives. It’s apparent that the exorcism conducted by Revd MoPoch & Chief Priest DanLevy in the summer was not successful; they should consider hiring a native doctor to get the job done.

Toilet-ham’s play was lethargic, lacked co-ordination, even an egg scrambled for an Italian omelette was better. You never know, Conte could have given Bilic some tips on how to play 3-4-3, as they did it beautifully at different stages last night. Anything Italian is the last thing a Spurs fan would ever want to hear for example, lasagna; as we know is a traditional Italian food made mainly of pasta, tomato sauce, minced beef & vegetables…hehehe, the food Spurs players ate in 2006. Football makes strange bedfellows really.

Mauricio, for the record has nothing to show for his entire coaching career, not even a silver medal. I feel your deep skin pain bro, but saying that you won’t give up is quite hilarious- ‘we will keep fighting said a downcast Mauricio” after the match- well I didn’t know Anthony Joshua and Vladimir was still in the ring, fighting. He went further to say, until it’s mathematically impossible, no retreat, no surrender. As much as I admire the determination, I can guess he missed his algebra classes in school, if not, his calculations would have included Dembele to start the match, sort out whatever issues or differences you have with Kyle Walker, one his most consistent players this season, with an average passing accuracy of 80% and get something out of the match. It’s the final run-in, just see it through!

Ironically, Pochettino said before the game, that he will enrol into Slaven Bilic’s school of ‘how to play at Wembley’; of course, we all know their pathetic record there. Now it’s safe to say that, the registration has become even more sacrosanct, as Mauricio Pochettino’s favourite song seems to be ‘2 legit 2 quit’’

Another decade of chasing the Premier league trophy beckons, but suffice to say, Toilet–Ham is officially ‘’The Shame of London’’.

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Stop! Spurs-ing Time!

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