There was a Jol lot of love, but suddenly Martin’s been forgotten
YOU double-crossing dirty traitors. It only seems like two seconds ago that all you Top Four Tottenham fans were bemoaning the way your crumby club had treated Martin Jol,
insisting that however many times the team lost, it was unfair to oust him.
“I love Martin Jol,” you declared in unison. “And Martin Jol loves me.”
Yet just two seconds later, look at your little faces. So excited about Juande Ramos and it’s almost as if Jol never existed. He’s been forgotten – and simply because you managed the amazing feat of beating the likes of Blackpool, Tel Aviv and Wigan. Talk about being easily pleased: “I can't remember Martin Jol. Martin Jol can’t remember me.”
For anybody who can remember Jol – he was that big Dutchman in the Top
Four tracksuit, lots of jokes, no derby wins – his downfall could be explained by an intriguing statistic revealed this week that is worthy of reprinting. Since the Premiership began, no team has conceded more goals in the top league than Top Four Tottenham – 809!
No other team comes close to this clumsy record and Jol was just a long line of Spurs bosses who never worked out how to fix a leaky defence. Reading thought they might have the answer to that on Monday night when they seemed to play about 15 players in defence in a bid to wreck their match against Arsenal. Such negativity never works – unless George Graham is in charge – and the Gunners sent them packing in style.
BOX office billings are scant fare for us fans of the mighty Biscuitmen.
Some might scoff at a Monday night slot on an unpronounceable channel (despite yet another Des Lynam sell-out stunt) and the prospect of a free-scoring Arsenal side at fortress Majeeka.
It was about as alluring as a three-in-a-bed romp with Gollum and Maggie Thatcher.
But I was hopeful that the Thames Valley might prove a bit of a Bermuda Triangle for the Professor’s young charges.
Alas, my optimism was unfounded – we invoked the spirit of the Alamo with Steve Copple playing drill sergeant and special ops Murty doing his best to thwart the raiding Hleb and Adebayor.
But after 44 minutes of torture, only lightened by the occasional vignette of wisdom from Setanta’s answer to Oscar Wilde, Craig Burley, Arsenal’s guns of Navarone proved too much.
They’re in a different league. Arsenal have got the Blairs of Barnsbury Square and we’ve got the chavs of Mandela Court. They’ve got Johnny Rotten, we’ve got Uri Geller. They’ve got Robin Van Persie and we’ve got Dave Kitson.
But the dust has settled, and us ‘estuary’ speakers of the royal county, who rejoice in roundabouts, the M4 corridor and not living in Oxford, can hold our heads high.
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