Forward thinking

The return of the one that wanted to get away

Profit time

Don't fret. It's going to happen. Levytime. It's all about brinkmanship, there's a strategy to it, it's calculated and Machiavellian. It has to all happen on the last day so that we get the best deal otherwise the opposing club and chairman has all the power. Let them think we're not interested, then...BOOM! We're in there with a last gasp bid which simply can't be turned down leaving us with twenty minutes to agree all the contractual stuff with the player, the medical, payment plan, agent fees and any potential work permits.

Excited? Just another day to get through and transfer deadline day is upon us. Norwich away to get through first. Defoe fit and ready (thanks to an injection). Holtby in the squad - so cue ridiculously high expectations for him to morph into a hybrid of Modric and van der Vaart with countless assists and goals. Or else the Tottenham Facebook army will run havoc and chaos with disdain. All AVB's fault is the mantra if you've already forgotten it.

"Two points from third place is nothing in the Premier league. It's good to see that third place isn't going away" - Andre Villas-Boas

Do we have enough to make third our own? Ask most Spurs fans and they'll argue we probably don't now that Sandro is out for the rest of the season. Out for the season. Sandro - out, season. No matter how many times I write it or think it I still find myself questioning it. Sandro looks set to miss the next 4 to 5 months or 7 to 8 months depending how positive you wish to be.

Tottenham are going to bid for a player, probably, possibly quite soon (soon equating to the next three and a half weeks). The bid, once made, will be official and you'll have heard about it here first, making this article an exclusive.

Yes, another day, another non-event of nothingness. I actually wish I didn't have to write this. Mainly because if there is something that's more unoriginal than transfer headline attention seeking it's an article taking the p*ss out of transfer headline attention seeking. But alas, I have very little to work with currently mainly because Harry Redknapp has yet to carpet bomb the tabloids with explosive soundbites leading up to the game of the century (QPR v Tottenham).

So what about that nothingness?

January is four days old and Tottenham have already signed two players. I'm half expecting this to be an inception. Is the spinning top still spinning? No? I'm actually awake? Yes, I'm awake. I know I'm awake because we've not yet signed a world class striker or an attacking midfield for the classic 'number 10' role. Or a right-winger. Proper dream within a dream within a dream stuff.

January. Christ, I hate it. Returning to work after two weeks annual leave. Hundreds of emails staring back at me with over-bearing red flags by their side. Countless meeting requests and conference calls to respond to. If I had hair on my head, I'd pull it out. I've got hair everywhere else but I have no intention of plucking it, regardless for my initial disdain towards the beginnings of a new year.

Resolutions is another bane. I always half-heartedly promise myself that I will detox. Then I remember why I suggested this the very first time many years ago. I was taking the p*ss out of the people that we're taking it seriously. At some point parody merged with reality and I allowed to be consumed by it all. Thankfully, I also tend to consume plenty of drink and food making any proposed detox redundant as early as the first of January.