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I'd take
that Beckham anytime
 SOME
things are so cruel that you wonder how they can be allowed.
For instance, why should people have to listen to Clive Tyldesley
desperately trying to mention Man United as many times as possible
every time ITV get to screen a live match.
Okay, Clive, we get the message, you were in the Nou Camp when
United won the European Cup. Get over it. It was seven years
ago.
 While
you were foaming, ITV lost the Premiership footage and have
been left showing highlights of the lower leagues.
Try fitting “It’s shades of the Nou Camp here”
and “Man United are great” into your commentary from
the gantry at Grimsby Town. But there is something crueller
than the Tyldesley torture: Giving hope to Spurs fans that their
crummy club has ended its 45-year transitional period.
Look around. Notice the Tottenham fans around you. Many have
turned sallow. They are less chirpy than normal, a little irritable.
Others look rough and unshaven – and that’s just the
female fans. The reason for their change in behaviour is simple.
Deep down they all know their bungling team is capable of throwing
it all away.
Arsenal, England’s only team in Europe, have hit form and
it’s time for Spurs to panic. Squeaky bums all round.
 According
to the rumour mill, Goldenballs(up) Beckham might be on his
way to Arsenal. Comes as no surprise given the way he clapped
his way around Highbury like a performing seal on Wednesday.
At first we feared he hadn’t realised his team had lost.
But even David isn’t that dim, is he?
Not according to Prof Wenger, who is reported to have said Beckham
applauded because he was at home.
 Strange,
seeing as Highbury has no bidays that I can ever recall washing
my feet in and is full of plastic chairs, while Beckham’s
house has a bouncy castle, jewel encrusted toilet seats and
tiger skin eiderdowns (I imagine).
“Of course I would take him,” added Wenger. “I’ve
always loved the Spice Girls.” Okay, jealousy forced me
to make that last bit up. Of course I would take Beckham at
the Lane, at I said, think of all the shirts we’d flog.
Oops, I mean, think of all the sublime goals we’d score
from free-kicks.
What’s wrong boys? Are you so busy dreaming about driving
home in your fancy cars that you can’t keep your mind on
the job until the final whistle?
Switch on please, or at this rate we’ll be lucky to get
Victoria Beckham to sign for us let alone her husband.
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