I have this deep dark thought that I feel I need to share with some strangers and, as we are talking, then I will get it off my chest now. Feel free to deride me and call me all sorts of names. I can take it. Firstly, let me state, I am a Harry fan. I have the badge, the scarf and the official DVD. Harry Redknapp is made for Spurs and Spurs is made for Harry Redknapp – or should it say was. When he was first appointed I couldn’t think of a better choice – after a series of continental managers he was breath of straight talking English air. But today, this morning, after Wigan, the dark feelings that I felt in the summer, and periodically gnawed away at me last season, have become overwhelming. Let me try and illustrate what I am trying to say with some background. Firstly we all know Harry is as loyal as a certain Mr Sulzeer Jeremiah Campbell when it comes to switching sides. From Pompey to his ‘spiritual home’ of Southampton in the twitch of an eye is perhaps the most overt display of this loyalty in action but there have been others. Disloyalty (or wheeler dealing) is, of course, all part and parcel of the great Harry Redknapp aura – an aura that spellbinds players, supporters and the press alike and there is no doubting we writhe in ecstasy at all the ‘Del Boy’ shtick because Harry is a fantastic manager. For Spurs, at the time of his appointment, there was no better choice. We needed a straight talking scrapper. Someone to kick the lazy, spoilt, sloth-like players up the jacksy and get them playing again. Harry was the man. With a remarkable, almost eerie, channeling of football magic we were top half of the table and fighting on in the cups. The fine work continued last season but there were times when I was not sold and silly losses to the Wolves and the Stokes and the Hulls seemed undo all those great victories and sometimes, tactically we were left wanting especially when he chose to play Keane almost every game without fail. Of course we got fourth on the last day and that is not to be underestimated and is a huge achievement that, quite frankly, he should deliver based upon a) our squad and b) his salary. We never died and we kept scrapping until the glories of the Champions League are upon us for
the first time in its current, modern, form.
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