Sometimes Bat Country offers up the juiciest of morsels at just the right time. It’s been a quiet weekend, what with Tottenham jetting off to Thailand for it second preseason friendly tomorrow morning. Oh sure we got an idiot BILD reporter holding up a Bayern kit with KANE 9 on it in a press conference and pissing Ange Postecoglou the hell off, but that was so stupid that I decided not to give it any oxygen here.
See, this website has standards. And those standards are to only shitpost about the REALLY dumb stuff. So instead on a slow Saturday I’ve decided to write about something even stupider than revoking the credentials of an unfunny German: Spanish daily MARCA says that Tottenham Hotspur has made an offer to purchase Kylian Mbappe.
God, I love silly season.
So let’s get this out of the way first: Kylian Mbappe is not coming to Tottenham Hotspur. The article claims that Spurs have made an offer for the the PSG forward, as has Chelsea, Manchester United, and an unknown club from Saudi Arabia. Gotta shoot your shot, I guess. Why not? Harry Kane’s probably leaving this summer so damn the torpedoes!
The “only” problem (actually one of many, many problems, not least including that video from a couple years ago when Mbappe told Tom Holland that there’s no chance in hell he’d come to Spurs ever, but let’s focus on just this one for now) is that MARCA says Mbappe has his heart set on a move to Real Madrid. That’s a problem for PSG, because Madrid almost certainly don’t have the funds to sign Mbappe until next summer after spending £90m to buy Jude Bellingham a couple weeks ago, and it implies that he might be stuck at PSG unless he decides to go elsewhere and PSG agree a bid.
So yeah, Mbappe isn’t coming to Tottenham. But... and stay with me here... what if he did?
The way I see it, the universe owes Spurs fans something by now. There’s a karmic imbalance that started decades ago but has continued from Lasagna-gate to getting “Willian’d” by Chelsea, continuing on to that bullshit handball on Sissoko in the Champions League final, and into the utter failures of Jose Mourinho and Antonio Conte, both lock-down guarantees to win something while improbably managing Tottenham. We’ve paid our dues and then some. “Spursy” is, somehow, still a thing, and it sucks.
I say it’s about time the universe made some amends.
Give Harry Kane a loaf of baguette and ship him and a gift basket (possibly containing Pierre Hojbjerg) to Paris. Get Big Ange to give Kylian a call and put the hard sell on. Tell him he’s going to be the Man (because he absolutely would be the Man). Whatever you do don’t let him go to Chelsea and that snake Pochettino without throwing your haymaker.
Need some more convincing? Here’s a handy chart that might help.
What’s the worst that could happen? No, scratch that — what’s the BEST that could happen? Kylian, you have the opportunity to do the
funniest most incredible thing ever. Don’t let us down. Be a legend. Choose hope.