Well done for the early prediction.The End of Season Song
In every Gilbert & Sullivan opera, there’s a comic “patter” song.
Possibly the best one of these is in Iolanthe.
I’ve retained the first line; and the first section is like the original song,
as it describes a nightmare…….. but thereafter,
it’s meant to be a fully awake tribute to the club we love
at the end of a thrilling and highly successful season,
and at a momentous point in our history. Apologies for the length of it!
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When you're lying awake with a dismal headache
And you can’t think of any good reason!
[But just then you recall, after months of football,
That it’s nearly the end of the season!]
Now your brain is on fire, when you see Eric Dier
As he stands on his head right in front of you:
And your nightmare goes on, when he gets it all wrong,
And Walker sits down (that’s one point of view);
But you think that the truth is to blame Robert Huth,
Who hacked him just when he was aiming,
But the ref’s name is Madley, and he behaves badly,
And gives Stoke the pen we were claiming.
Then the chorus all round is that Merseyside sound,
When Llorís gets his feet in a tangle;
When Dan Levy resigns, our new stadium inclines,
And is left at a dangerous angle!
Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze,
With hot eye-balls and head ever aching,
But your slumbering seems to be full of those teams
That are expert at injury-faking.
Next you dream Kane and Alli are sold to The Valley,
And Rose for a fiver to Norwich;
And now Pochettino has bought a casino -
So soon he’ll be off to do porridge……
.............
....... But now you are waking, although you are shaking,
And know that it’s been a good season,
‘Cos the Tottenham squad (and I don’t find this odd!)
Have made you feel proud for a reason.
Pochettino’s the man who has pleased every fan,
With his leadership strong and enlightened.
He’s spoken with style, and a contagious smile,
And players respond, never frightened.
On the left we have Danny, whose speed is uncanny -
He flies at defences with brio.
When the ball goes to Walker, escaping his stalker,
He sets off like Ant after Cleo!
Our best player’s called Toby Alderweireld -
Who reads every tight situation.
And his mate Jan Vertonghen gets few tackles wrong, and
Attacks like a Belgian invasion!
There’s few full-backs nippier than our Kieran Trippier
Whose crossing is rarely off-target.
And Wimmer stays loyal, which surely will foil
Any clubs who are playing the market.
While trusty Ben Davies, whose faith never wavers,
Just plays when he’s needed, stays calm.
The same can be said (when our skipper’s half-dead)
Of our substitute keeper called Vorm.
When Hugo is keeping, their strikers are weeping,
Because he is agile and skilled;
And then Erik Dier (no praise could be higher):
He fills any place to be filled!
It seems rather naughty he’s not number forty –
I mean Harry Winks – what a talent!
We miss young Lamela, with his tarantella
[His skill on the dance floor’s apparent!]
With Eriksen’s cunning and tactical running,
He cuts through defences with passes.
So when he delivers, it gives them the shivers -
They end up sprawled out on their…. backsides!
That Victor Wanyama, a regular charmer,
You can’t miss the effort he’s making;
His constant improvement, and his non-stop movement,
Leave all our opponents’ knees shaking.
When you watch on the telly, see Moussa Dembele,
Drive straight through a maze of hard tackles,
And we all go doolally to watch Dele Alli
Who’s nipped into space, slipped his shackles!
We’ve got Heung Min Son, who – when he comes on –
Trips over the ball before scoring!
And then there’s Sissoko, who seems slightly loco,
But no-one could say that he’s boring!
There’s young Carter-Vickers, whose flame sometimes flickers:
He sits on the bench always waiting;
Onomah’s potential, N’Koudou’s credentials -
There’s plenty we’re anticipating!
And Janssen, the Dutchman, who’s not had much luck, man,
He strains every sinew and muscle;
But his chances are fewer (you know this I’m sure)
‘Cos Harry’s the man to please us all!
Yes, here once again, we can praise Harry Kane,
Who demonstrates total endeavour:
He’s one of our own, and his stature has grown,
And we’d love him to stay here for ever!
Though our Cup Semi-Final went down the urinal,
We’ve kept up the chase after Chelsea.
But now that you've woken, your heart isn’t broken,
You’re proud – and next season, we shall see!
For Europe lies waiting, we’re anticipating
A better performance at Wembley.
Au revoir to the Lane, but we’ll see you again
In our splendid new home - (2020?)
This week’s been a tester – Man U and then Leicester –
But so far all our colours are flying!
Now our last game’s at Hull, we can’t let it be dull,
And the scoreline (5-0) leaves them crying.
Goals for Janssen, Dier, Son, as we go marching on,
And of course for young Alli and Kane!
Now both PLs are ending, my best wishes I'm sending -
But we’ll meet up in August again!
Has the season seemed long? Even longer: my song?
Then be thankful that one of them’s over!
Prediction: Hull 0 Spurs 5
Scorers: Janssen, Dier, Son, Alli, Kane
Cheers, Spurf – and all fellow predicters!
I'll have to be the bigger man too
Hull 0 Spurs 3 (Kane x 2, Alli)
