“Tottenham, no history of winning,” said Pochettino. “Our glory, I watch the video about the glory, it’s with (Bill) Nicholson. It’s black and white and I watch it nearly every week.” That’s got to hurt!
1961... When a satellite dish would have been mother lobbing a plate at you. When British meant British, and our clubs were not full of foreign players. When Spurs had proper supporters, not the modern day plastics of HiaG and Spunkcock. When real men played in the mud and not on snooker green pitches, when everyone could afford to go to a game, under the corrugated roofing and the craft beers were once Heineken piss in a can and you could smoke at a game. But the following glory years have been replaced with Billionaires who will bring the club nothing, other than a ground designed liked a toilet seat... please log in to view this image
A bit like the other night in the semi final, where you decided a film would be better to watch, even though you won the first leg.
Here we go again. I have been deceived by you since I do not remember when. Well, I already made a decision, this must end. Look at me now, will I ever learn? I do not know how, but suddenly I lose control. There is a fire inside my soul. Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything. Mamma mia, here I go again. My God, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, do you notice again ... my God, how much have I missed you? Yes, I have been heartbroken ... and sad since the day we parted. Why? Why did I have to let you go? Mamma mia, now I really understand ... my God, I could never let you go. I was angry and sad about things you did. I can not count all the times I told you we finished. And when you leave, when you slam the door. I think you know you will not leave for long. You know I'm not that strong. Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything. Mamma mia, here I go again. My God, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, do you notice again ... my God, how much have I missed you? Yes, I have been heartbroken ... and sad since the day we parted. Why? Why did I have to let you go? Mamma mia, now I really understand ... my God, I could never let you go. Mamma mia, here I go again. My God, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, do you notice again My God, how much have I missed you? It;s a Spursy anthem.
Review: In Elvis land, Costello reigns as King Review: Solo show reveals depth of talents. By Jon Bream Star Tribune JUNE 10, 2014 — 10:39AM This may sound like blasphemy, but Elvis Costello has had a more consistently impressive career than Elvis Presley. To be sure, Presley was more important and more influential, and he had a better voice, better hair and better looks. But Costello has been more adventurous, more multidimensional (he writes his own songs in various styles, something Presley didn’t do) and more concerned about artistry, quality and growth. Costello never made a clunker album — or a cheesy movie. And Presley could not have done what Costello did Monday night in St. Paul at the O’Shaughnessy at St. Catherine University — perform solo for 2¼ hours, accompanying himself on guitar or piano. Costello’s concert showcased the depth and breadth of his work and his influences
