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THE CROW - By CATHERINE ETOE & RICHARD OSLEY
  
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Life is good at the Seven Sisters

I GOT all excited when I heard they’d had a “judo party” at Newcastle on Sunday. I pictured Cesc Fabregas, dressed in only a headband and My Little Pony pyjamas, prancing around St James’s and throwing a few Karate Kid moves on Graeme ‘Mr Softie’ Souness.
Unfortunately, it was just Alan ‘Mr Personality’ Shearer giving the Geordies some Christmas cheer and kicking the Uninvincibles up the bum every chance he got. Wenger wasn’t too chuffed afterwards though, blaming the press for telling everyone that his lily-livered Uninvincibles don’t like it up ’em. Think we worked that one out the first time Man Utd gave Jose Reyes that Welcome to England reception at Old Trafford.
Of course, he should be blaming whoever came up with the bright idea that Paddy Vieira could be replaced by a teenager.
Cheer up Prof, at least you’re not Harry Redknapp.
On Monday, poor old Bagpuss looked like he’d re-married his his ex-wife only to suddenly remember why he left her in the first place. Shame my Spurs boys spoiled the wedding party to leave Redknapp looking more than a tad ticked off.
Not our fault, guv. Maybe if your new hareem had protected their Richard ‘Cornelius’ Osley’s (Cocks to you and me) instead of flapping like Christmas turkeys at that free kick, the honeymoon might have lasted longer than the weekend.


THEY said I would regret it but once you’ve spent a classy evening around the piano singing Chas and Dave songs all night, masking your north London accent with an exaggerated mockney-cockney tone, you can’t go back. Regular readers – the intrepid ones still following the 12 week-old Grimsby gag – will recall how last week I gave up on Arsenal and pulled on a Spurs shirt. I have crossed the divide.
Once you wear the shirt, you become the shirt – there are some Tottenham fans who have spent six months in their skin tight replica kits, unable to free their distended stomachs from the figure-hugging shirts. I’m proud of them. We’ll cut them out at the end of the season.
They don’t just let anyone into the Spurs camp but put my name up there with Rohan Ricketts as one of the privileged few allowed to make the switch.
Up this end of the Seven Sisters Road, it’s a simple life. We don’t have to worry about Champions League football, whether our players come back injured from international fixtures or whether Barcelona want to sign our strikers.
And us Spurs are more than happy just being linked with big name transfers – we share memories of the heady day that Rivaldo almost signed for us. If we ended up with Paul Stalteri instead, who cares? Not me. We’ve just beaten mighty Portsmouth and it feels like 1961 all over again.


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Don't waste your finest on relatives

DO you enjoy or endure Christmas? It isn’t only that we’re bullied into spending money we haven’t got.
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