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They were gonna party like it was 1999
‘TWO-NIL to the Eng-er-land’, the Spurs fans chanted as they took the lead at the Lane – forgetting that one of their goals had been scored by a Bulgarian, another by a Brazilian who would never be seen dead in a Tottenham shirt.
But then Spurs fans are rightfully proud to have England’s Paul Robinson in goal, the guy whose high-kick blunder still represents the worst ever goalkeeping cock-up on the  international stage.
 There he was, looking good for Tottenham’s first win over Arsenal since 1999. For non-football fans that’s a time when Oasis made good records, people rented video recorders from Rumbelows and bought posters from Athena, while kids who survived whooping cough amused themselves with spinning tops in the playground. Oh and a time when the league cup meant something.
The wait was over. Or was it. Is that Justin Hoyte running into the corner? Robinson is a smart chap and he knows the golden rule of football: Never let that deadliest striker Justin Hoyte have the ball at an impossible angle on the side of the penalty box. Never. Ever. Out he rushed. Hoyte slipped it to The Beast, Robinson stranded, and its oo-ah Bap-tis-ta. ‘Two-nil and you fudged it up’. Have another try at a proper stadium next week.
 SO Thierry Travolta got the chance to do his trendy dance with Adebayor again on Sunday.
Surely celebrations that involve teasing your Y-fronts out of your bottom crease using nothing but your buttock cheeks are banned under FA rules. Even Joey Barton wouldn’t try that one.
No matter. Tit-i can keep on scoring and gyrating from now until the last day  of the season but the smart money is still on the beautiful Gary Neville waving that Premiership pot around the Theatre of Cheating Keepers come May.
Not that Gooners see it that way. “We only have to win three more games and have everyone else lose theirs and we’ll lift the trophy” chuckled Cesc Fabulous after flying back from a double maths lesson in Madrid with his pal Jose ‘Village Idiot’ Reyes.
Hmm, not quite so sure about that little one, but who are we Lilychocs to begrudge Arsenal from getting so excited that Ashburton Library erupted like a pimple on Wayne Rooney’s shaving rash on Sunday night.
Time was of course when some people were actually interested in Arsene versus hairdryer on legs Fergie.
Nowadays we’re too busy dancing a jig over the prospect of John Terry finishing second to even care if they shook hands.
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