“Nothing to play for now, they’re on the beach already”

There’s something life affirming about a game like that, it reminds you not to take things for granted.

No matter how obvious the warning signs were – the returning manager dynamic, Benteke on fire, our Burnley performance – even the fans had an air of complacent expectation. The players, meanwhile, were just sh*t and the atmosphere duly followed suit.

Someone stood near me in the East Lower made some excuses after the inevitable happened and we went one down – “nothing to play for now, they’re on the beach already”.

It made perfect sense what he said. But it’d be nice to think that an innate sense of pride would kick in amongst the players when they take to the field, if only for the kids who hero worship them or the fans who splash their hard-earned cash being fleeced on StubHub (see – https://n17express.com/2015/04/12/youre-not-spurs-fans-youre-vultures/ )

Perhaps it’s harsh to judge them for the complete lack of energy and effort they exuded yesterday (Harry Kane, Mason and arguably Bentaleb aside).

They might live a pampered and privileged lifestyle, but the pressure on these young, extremely rich, and only partially intelligent, men is huge.

Imagine if you were treated like a Demi-God in your workplace. That the junior staff all had your name printed on the back of their work shirts, and at work parties wore specially made masks with your face on… Wouldn’t you be just a bit casual towards the end of the financial year, when your targets were hit and bonus was assured?

Yesterday had the atmosphere of a pre-season friendly which is a shame because the season doesn’t have to peter out meaninglessly (and the tickets certainly weren’t at pre-season prices).

Why not give some of the more promising youngsters some game time? We’re likely to need them in at least a few of the 50-odd matches we’ll play in next season’s Europa Cup.

Also, where on earth has Mousa gone? Has he, too, been struck down with the dreaded gout?

As for the game itself, I remember very little. Rose went close, Kane shot when he should have passed on several occasions, and the guy to my right dropped a ketchup covered pie on his new daps. It was poor.

The highlight for me was having my view of the dugout area partially obscured by one of the huge columns which stop the East Stand from crashing down, thereby sparing me the sight of Sherwood celebrating at the end of the game.

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