Well this happened a month ago – Tottenham Hotspur finally won a trophy after 17 years without one. That’s the stat, 17 years without a trophy, as if to say the football was good 17 years ago, good this year, and not in between, when that’s not really the case. But we won the Europa League, the third time we have won that particular trophy (the first was in 1972, the second in 1984 which I still remember). The final wasn’t pretty, and I had to be at home that day to watch it, but we beat Manchester United 1-0 and that’s that. All those years of scintillating exciting football and nearly getting there with one of the best Spurs teams I’ve ever seen, followed by a few years of that team declining and leaving and chopping and changing the managers and styles, the Contes and Mourinhos boring us to death, and then we bring in Big Ange Postecoglou, an Australian of Greek origin with big bold ideas who “always wins something in his second season” and changed the whole style to something far more attacking and fun to watch. It started well, top after his first ten games, the stadium singing Robbie Williams songs to him, saying “look Mate” a lot and looking at the floor when answering questions, that cough and those sighs, but then we kept getting so many injuries, and he would not change his cavalier style. We ended up fifth, but teams were figuring us out. So the second season, and we never got off the ground in the league, although we did beat the champions Man City away 4-0, everyone else beat us, except United who were terrible. Somehow we managed to stay alive in the Europa League – the new format helped, no heavyweight teams dropping down from the Champions League meant the most difficult team we faced was Eintracht Frankfurt. Even Manchester United making the final was a bit of a fluke, they were even more terrible than us this season (though in the end they finished a couple of spots above us, we did beat them four times over the course of the season which is amazing). So we go into the final, the teams 16th and 17th in the Premier League, the worst version of Spurs and the worst version of United I have ever seen in my lifetime, teams with records that in any other season would probably have seen them relegated, and yet one of them would get into the Champions League?! That is the prize of winning this easier Europa League, and we did it, with a goal scored by accident by Brennan Johnson, and an off the line clearance by Van De Ven that will go down in the history books and probably some of the physics books, and just for now, I don’t care about being 17th, about losing more games in one season than ever before, we won the cup. Bilbao will live on forever for us Spurs fans. It was like the end of Lord of the Rings. We had beaten Bodo in the semi before Pippin a sorry Man U in Bilbao by a nice goal and getting Merry at the Lane, Baggin’ the trophy and opening more doors as we soar on to the Champions League. The return of the Kings. My brother and nephew were watching at the Spurs stadium on the big screens set up there, and it sounds like it was a fun night. I felt relieved more than anything, after the disappointment of 2019. But a trophy is just a trophy. We came 17th in the league, we kept losing so many games – I like watching Spurs win games, and entertain as well. Big Ange who does not change his style refused to change it in the league, and we nearly got relegated, but for some reason changed it in the Europa and we won the thing. It was fun seeing the big parade, and now we can get all those people off our backs who say we never win trophies (Newcastle can do the same now too, and it’s been way longer for them). But 17th man, it ain’t good enough. So less than two weeks later, Big Ange got the sack. I’m fine with that, he would have been sacked by October anyway. He leaves as a trophy winner, no hard feelings, now we start again with our new guy, Thomas Frank. Come on you Spurs!