Relegation to You...

Relegation to you, relegation to you, relegation dear Middlesbrough, relegation to you! I know that as a Spurs fan I should reserve all my ire for Arsenal, but for some reason, this season Middlesbrough really got my goat, and I found myself praying that they’d go down. And Lo! My prayers were answered! It’s hard to say exactly why ‘Boro evoked such dislike in me this season – perhaps it was the fact that they beat us on the opening day of the season, the start of a disastrous run which only ended with the sacking of Juande Ramos. Perhaps it was because they got so bloody cocky after a reasonable start to the season, implying that they were a bigger club than us when they refused to allow Downing to speak to us about a possible transfer (although why we ever wanted to sign such an average player, I really don’t know). Then again, maybe it all came down to their ‘manager’ Gareth Southgate, a man appointed despite having neither any experience of management, nor any coaching qualifications. I got so tired of seeing him in post-match interviews, with his pullover on under his suit jacket, clearly completely out of his depth and utterly clueless. His refusal to take responsibility for ‘Boro’s relegation and resign simply underlines his inability to grasp exactly what a manager’s role actually is. But Hell, what do I know? Early in the season the press were busily telling us how Southgate was one of the most promising of the younger English managers. Yeah, he has all the qualities: arrogant, self-delusional and he’s managed to get a Premiership side relegated. Southgate for England!

There’s a part of me that feels that I should feel some sympathy for Newcastle over their relegation. I was watching the live coverage from Villa Park yesterday, when it became clear that the ‘Toon’ were going down and the cameras focused on the fans, some of whom were in tears. In particular, they kept coming back to this fat bastard, who, in between stuffing his face with pie, was blubbing like a baby. It was a terrible sight – I felt sure that he was going to choke on his pie at any moment. Yet, even as I laughed at him, I felt a twinge of conscience. After all, only a few months ago, I was convinced that Spurs were going down – would I have been blubbing away if the tables had been turned? Most probably not. I certainly wouldn’t have been eating that bloody pie. Much as I love the Spurs, the fact is that football is only a game. Sure, I’d have been pissed off, but a part of me would also have acknowledged that (on the basis of our form in those first, awful, eight matches which left us at the bottom of the table), we deserved it. And that, I suppose, is why I don’t feel that much sympathy for Newcastle and its fans. They’ve always seemed to think that they had some kind of divine right to be in the Premiership. All they had to do was turn up. At least at Spurs we recognised that we could go down, that it was a very real threat. By contrast, the barcodes just didn’t seem to grasp how dire their position was until the season was nearly over. Even then, they still thought some miracle would save them. It didn’t. Enjoy life in the Championship, boys – I hear they have some damn good pies at places like Scunthorpe and Preston!