Saturday, May 7, 2011

Happy St. Totteringham's Day!!!

Today, May 7th, is St. Totteringham's Day! It is a celebration of Arsenal fans, where Tottenham now cannot mathematically finish above the Gooners in the table. They were held to a disappointing 1-1 draw at Blackpool. Baha. All that spending and they're still in Arsenal's shadow. And now, since they most likely won't secure Champions' League football, it looks like good Ol' 'Arry Redknapp's best players, including Gareth Bale, will be leaving the club.

Ha. Here's a wonderful poem:
Twas the night before St. Totteringham's, when all through N5 Not a gooner was stirring, not even a child.
The kits were hung by the front door with care, In hopes that St Totteringham soon would be there.
The gooners were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of Fabregas danced in their heads.
And Madam in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap Had just settled our brains for a long late spring nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the newly-built ground, Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects around
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a shimmering saint, stood there clutching a beer.
With a red and white kit, he was looking so hot, I knew in a moment it must be St Tott.
More rapid than eagles his chanting it came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Szczęsny! now, Gaël! now, Sagna! and Song! On, Nasri! On, Jack! Cesc, now hurry along,
Eboue! Arshavin! Van Persie! Walcott! Speed him along, that splendid Saint Tott!
And then, in a twinkling, we shall hear that cry, That comes every year despite how they try,
As we leap up and down and spin all around, Down to earth St Tott will come with a bound.
He'll be dressed red and white, from his head to his foot, And 1961 embroidered on his boot.
He'll point at the number and say "See here! They failed once again, despite the 'one' in the year!"
His eyes-how they'll twinkle! his dimples how merry! His cheeks are like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth will draw up like a bow, And the beard of his chin will be white as some snow.
He'll be chubby and plump, a right jolly old gooner, "It comes every year, usually sooner,
They spend so much and I hope it's not rude, One time I had to poison some Italian food!"
He'll laugh and he'll laugh 'til his face turns bright red, "Their Euro hopes lying there buried and dead,
You'd think they'd be happy with Old Channel 5, Not keeping those delusional champions' hopes alive!"
He'll spring to his feet, to the team give a whistle, And away they'll all fly like the down of a thistle.
But we'll hear him exclaim, ‘ere he drives out of sight, "Happy St Totteringham's to all, and to all a good-night!"

So, all Arsenal fans, rejoice! Times might be tough, but atleast we know Arsenal are still better than the Spurs.

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