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Camden New Journal - CROW by RICHARD OSLEY and PIP WROE
Published: 27 August 2009

Top brass! Marching band to mark Spurs’ August domination

PARP-prappity-parp-parp.
Do you know what that is?
Do you? That’s the sound of the brass band trooping through the streets. I’m sure I heard them the other day marching in honour of Tottenham Hotspur’s historic achievements over the last two weeks.
The club has for the first time in nearly 50 years won their first three matches of the season.
You heard right. All three of them. Not just one. They have won three matches. No wonder there is talk of the bakers on the high street making a special cake, with blue and white ribbons and some silver foil for the Premiership trophy.
Whispers also have it that Harry Redknapp could be given the Freedom of Haringey, and a DVD is being rushed into the shops: August! When Tottenham Ruled The World.
The excitement is completely understandable. The last time Spurs nailed such an impressive feat The Beatles were an unknown band mucking around in Hamburg. Colour television was the stuff of fantasy.
Hey, we are going even further back than Pip Wroe’s Tottenham shirt.
Some Spurs fans are even talking about a top-four finish. Now, we’ve heard that prediction before and most of us, not high on street party wine, remember what generally happens next.

FOOTBALL writers have been acting like the Met Office this week.
Our joyously predicted “barbecue heatwave” was swiftly revised and labelled “an inconsistent summer”.
Likewise, the league predictions have now also been hastily revised to coincide with the opening fortnight. Arsenal, seen unanimously as finishing fifth behind the Galacticos of Manchester City, are now being tipped to push Chelsea all the way – not a ludicrous suggestion provided William Gallas keeps up the outstanding quality of his finishing.
Liverpool are as bad as Rafa’s goatee and stand no chance at all after their two early defeats. Spurs are better than ever and certain to challenge the big four. This last prediction has been held by Spurs fans and some over-eager players (particularly Michael Dawson) for the last five years, and every season we dare to dream.
So as Gallas’s face smarts, Jermain Defoe’s foot tingles with excitement at the prospect of lashing more goals past terrified keepers. And as Cesc Fabregas’s hamstring draws ever tighter, Wilson Palacios’s relentless engine thumps towards our next game.
It’s a giddy feeling being at the top. I wonder how it feels for Sol Campbell so deep, deep down.

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