Happy Friday, Spurs fans! March Madness has started, which means I have way more sports to watch over the next three weeks than I have time to actually watch. Plus I have to watch and write about football, which is also cool. And I have my day job, which is fine I guess. And then I have to take care of my children which is also groovy. I need a time-turner. And about six arms. And some cocaine.
For your musical interlude, I've chosen one of the best guitar virtuosos you've never heard of: Sam Pacetti. He's a phenomenal talent, but for some reason he's never gotten the recognition he deserves. Here he is, performing his song "Brian's Rapier" from his album "Solitary Travel.
Ahh, the old club-country debate. Which isn't really a debate, because with the possible exception of the World Cup (which I adore), international football is terrible and should be shot into the sun. How about this, Roy: you let the club that actually owns him decide what he should or shouldn't do.
I love this. Spurs are willing to shell out some major dough just so they can get traveling supporters to
St. James' Park Sports Direct Arena St. James' Park. I'd also love it if they'd charter a flight from Chicago and held a seat for me. First class, please. Legroom is terrible on Tottenham Air. Also, it almost makes it to cruising altitude on every flight before collapsing late and finishing around 7000 ft.
Why can't we get hard players like this at Spurs anymore? All coddled athletes now, no guts, no grit, no concealed weaponry.
Pardon me while I watch this Vine loop 1000 times.