Date: 3rd May 2012 at 3:51pm
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So, there you have it. The two games done and dusted and with last night`s result our future no longer lies in our hands. It lies in Stoke`s.

Strangely, sitting in the M61 queue last night as an “incident” took place further down I felt calm. Was this because I am expectant that QPR will lose both their games and we will get the necessary point? Was it that I knew that the scoreline flattered Spurs and that if Bolton play on Saturday the way that they played before the game was put out of our reach then West Brom can`t come soon enough? Or was it a strange kind of acceptance of our fate? I turned to Mrs X to ask her, but it was still only 4am and she was well away.

Yes. 4am was the time that my night terrors overtook me and I woke up and it took me a full five minutes to get back to sleep. Boyata, the wrong guy in the wrong place on the wrong foot, and his balloon over the bar late in the first half played again in front of my eyes in the gloom. The successive corners which Spurs had little answer to, Chris Eagles shanking the obligatory shot and the wave of emotion that overtook the crowd, first when Fabrice Muamba was so obviously moved by his reception and then by Nigel Reo-Coker`s goal, so brilliantly laid on by David N`Gog after SKD had nodded the ball on.

But then came the Spurs goals. Cheated by Sandro and his basketball antics although there was no arguing with Modric`s finish, the incisive breakaway that allowed van der Vaart to score, an almost carbon copy down the other wing for Adebayor`s first within two minutes and then the same players second as the defence went walkabout.

Maybe, after equalising, we should have shut up shop, looked to play for the draw. But no one was complaining for those fifteen minutes when Spurs had no answer to us, when we came out of the blocks straight from the second half kick off, when Owen Coyle had obviously read his half time team talk backwards and it was us that scored within the first ten minutes of the second half. That kind of the noise from the crowd has seldom been heard at The Reebok this season. Even the bloke next to me who appeared to be a battle hardened, never going to sing type, was giving it bellows. Then Spurs scored twice.

They had served notice early on, with Aaron Lennon bypassing Sam Ricketts time and again and a number of balls flashed across the Bolton six yard box with no one to get on the end of them. Hearts were in mouths when Bogdan did a funny, on his haunches, punchy thing that fell straight at Gareth Bale. But for a lot of the time it was even as Spurs were forced to move the ball around the back and were harried by N`Gog and the midfield. However, by the time they had scored their fourth goal, they were playing it around amongst themselves.

To change it the manager brought on Klasnic who, despite a fizzing left foot shot that flew wide of Friedel`s right post, looked almost catatonic, and Josh Vela, who ran a around a lot and played some nice passes, although he did manage to get himself almost immediately booked. Given some real game time it looks like it may not be so bleak if we are to be relegated. Although relegation will be bleak enough.

At the end, with the stands empyting, there were no boos as you would expect from a 4-1 defeat and ripples of applause for the players trudging off. The manager used his dust ourselves down and pick ourselves up speech so much this season, the stadium must need a damn good clean.

As it is, our season will definitely go down to the last game. A loss on Saturday and a win for QPR and that will almost certainly be it, so poor is our goal difference. Spurs came to T`Reebok last night having never won here and having not scored an away goal since January. That proves that strange things have happened this season and strange things are still to come in this season. Strangely, I still believe that we will stay up.

But I would say that, wouldn`t I?


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