Saturday Morning
This afternoon’s match has had the aura of defeat about it. We all know that without Cana and Cattermole we’re going to struggle in midfield though I’m not bothered about losing Kenwyne today as Campbell has impressed me more recently. However, as I opened the curtains this morning and the autumn sun bathed my ravaged features, I felt a bit better and then I counted how much cash I had in my pocket and it came to £73, a magic number. Bent’s going to be busting a gut to score today and though he contributed a lot to last week’s match his finishing was all to pot so let’s hope he’s regained his sharpness. After all the talk of Lennon being out, it looks like he may well play and that’s bad news for us as he looked their most dangerous player to me in last year’s match down here. I’d be happy to get a draw out of today but we’ve shown all too well recently that we can rise to the challenge. There’s one small problem, in the hectic whirl of the last few weeks I’ve neglected to get a ticket for the match. I’ll go up to White Hart Lane anyway and see what I can come up with.

The Match (Not)
I stopped for a beer in the big Wetherspoon’s pub at Liverpool Street and there were plenty of our lot there, many in good voice. A Spurs fan came over and chatted to me and when I asked him about Darren Bent, he replied, “Fuck him. He’s got too much mouth.” After getting the train to Seven Sisters I had further refreshment in the Beehive in Stoneleigh Road which, unlike most pubs near White Hart Lane, welcomes fans of both sides and the Fosters was only £3 a pint. I chatted there to two other Sunderland fans without tickets and was to encounter many more when I arrived outside the ground. I’ve never seen so many fans without tickets before and of course this begs the question why we had such a small allocation. No match would be complete without me running into London Branch legend Ian Todd and he duly appeared as the minutes to kick-off ticked away. I could see I was going to be out of luck and there were a lot of long faces as the crowd ebbed inside leaving us stranded on the ticketless shore. As if to underline this image loads of seagulls suddenly swooped down onto the road and gobbled up the remains of abandoned hamburgers. A bit earlier I’d seen one of our fans trying to feed his burger bun to a police-horse but it declined. With half of the tube system being out of action it took me ages to get home and I arrived to catch the last ten minutes of the game on Radio 5. Defeat, Bent missing a penalty and Gordon injured. Sounds like a perfect afternoon all round.

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