Numb, shocked and fed up.
What can one say or wish to say about the Chelsea game on Wednesday night? After our defeat against Burnley we needed to get back on track; instead, we pushed ourselves further away from the front two, at the same time gave those under us an opportunity to catch up. If we should lose on Saturday and Chelsea and United win then we are going to struggle to keep our position. On top of that, we go to Dortmund on Tuesday, and anything could happen in that match (that is why we need to defeat the gunners; high moral and work wonders).
Our title hopes, already dented by defeat at Burnley on Saturday, are now over after this loss at Stamford Bridge and we must now focus on what is an increasingly competitive fight for a top-four place.
A friend of mine who went to the match was inconsolable (but then again wasn’t everybody?). I thought Eriksen and Lamela had a poor game and as far as I am concerned they can go in the summer, we need now fresh blood. This group of players don’t have the mental dexterity to challenge for the title. But is that because of Pochettino or something else?
The day started off for me in good spirits. I believed that we could beat Chelsea and that Burnley was just a glitch. After all, Burnley had a good record against the top four teams (a good excuse!).
I got to my cousin's house at 3pm and then made my way to the bus stop, Ruislip Manor and then to Fulham Broadway. As I was feeling confident, I went for a meal in Chelsea (El Metro) and had a burger and a large glass of white wine. Talked to the couple on the table next to me, who were Chelsea supporters. I told them how confident we were and that if they had lost, then Sarri would be given the boot. They disagreed, but then again, they would, wouldn’t they (and as things turned out, were proven right… at least for the time being)?
After the meal, I made my way to the stadium, checks, a brush down and then through. Chatted to the Spurs Stewards’ and other supporters’ who were there. Finally got in – through more checks – then a bottle of coke and hotdog (I was hungry, energetic you could say). The chatter around me was all good humoured.
Got to my seat and talked to a nice Spurs Premium member lady. Saw Terry and went over to talk to him (he was positive, as was the lady… and why shouldn’t they be?). Then I settled down to what I hoped was going to be a good and convincing win.
The players came out to #Blue is the Colour,# fireworks and loud cheers from both sets of fans.
The play commenced; Gonzalo Higuain hit the woodwork for Chelsea, and Harry Winks had similar misfortune in the first half. I thought we did enough, so I was still confident. Then the break came. I made my way down to get another drink. The Chelsea away supporters’ area was cramped, and there was no organisation in the queuing; people were pushing and shoving, and those that were at the front and who got their food struggled to get back out. Drinks were spilled, some angry exchanges. Poor organisation. I’ve been to clubs that didn’t have the resources that Chelsea have, but were better organised. There is a sign at the stadium that said “the Pride of London”. If that is Pride, god help London. I can’t wait until we get back to a decent stadium.
Got back for the second half, but 12 minutes later they were one-up. Sarri's side saw their endeavour rewarded when Pedro's wriggling run ended with a shot between Hugo Lloris' legs at his near post after 57 minutes.
Kane wasted a good chance to level for Spurs but this damaging loss was sealed in calamitous fashion when Kieran Trippier turned Olivier Giroud's flick past Lloris into his own net with six minutes left. By then it was over… the writing was on the wall. Our fans started to leave, pissed. I stayed until the end. Then dejected I left and made my way to the station.
The only exciting thing to happen that night was a fight between Spurs supporters and Chelsea fans. The police piled in and in the process, punches were thrown, abuse hurled… and I got hit in the back (by a passing police officer desperate to get to the action). No apologies, just concentrated on the battle before them. I quickly made my way to the station (of course I had to suffer all the singing abuse from Chelsea fans).
Finally got home and bed at 12.30 am.
Now we must get ready for another important London derby, Arsenal, before travelling to Germany to play our second leg. For both matches, I will be there, as always. But I don’t want too many days like the last couple of days we’ve had.
See you all on Saturday, hopefully, we’ll get a better result!
COYS!
By Glenn Renshaw
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