RAWK again:
“No matter what happens, our opponents will be not just first timers, but first timers with the added ‘what a dream to even be here’ factor that we had last season. They will have a certain freedom because of that. They will have nothing to lose.
So how do we take a team with nothing to lose, and make sure that they lose everything, nonetheless?
We become that bastard, stubborn, resolute and impossible to breach Liverpool that’s been so dominant this season. We spoil, we ruin, we let them expend their energy. We understand that the longer the game remains even, the more likely we are to win it. We understand that the more they come at us, the more likely they are to be open at the back. We realise that teams are often at their most vulnerable when they’re at their most positive – a counter attack, a cool finish, a ‘first chance of the night against the run of play’ taken, and reality comes crashing in on the power of hope and dream.
And then, if they have any fight left in them, we take the sting out of the game. We keep possession when necessary. Take the ball when necessary. Defend deep when necessary. Foul the young ingenue out of the game when necessary. We do whatever is necessary. And when our opponent pauses, in the flurry of his youthful intensity, that’s when we plunge our hidden knife deep, deep, deep into a heart that was just not broken enough to fight men like us.
And our hand of death, in twisting the knife, will show every bit of the hard-won skill and ability which lies behind our ruthlessness.
The crushing embrace of inevitability overcomes them. An Icarussing of our opponents: “Who were we, to reach so high? Did we really dare to raise ourselves to the redness of that Liverpool sun? How nice to have flown, but how inevitable that our pale wings should melt, and we should come crashing down into the sea, here, where it’s cool. Here, where gravity doesn’t pull us down anymore. Here, where we belong.”
We do that not because we are cruel – but because this is not a game to us. This is not a beautiful journey. This is who we are. This is what we do.
This is our destiny.
Dreams are beautiful. Dreams give you wings.
But destiny is the sun.
And the sun is red.”
What is wrong with these cunts? Seriously. And they don’t understand why every single fan in England hates them? They’re demented. And their hubris is going to bite them on their fat, shit poetry, GOT, arrogant arses. Simply the most disgusting fan base out there. They haven’t been champions for 30 years. Who the fuck are they? Christ they’ve finished behind us 8 out 10 seasons in the league. My word, who do they think they are? And what Spurs’ fan would commit the vomit above to the internet? Jesus Christ. Are they all on spice and white lightening?
Spirit of Shankly my arse. He’d be ashamed of their fans today.