In a dystopian future, where Donald Trump is President of the United States and Boris Johnson is Prime Minister of an England on its own with only it's fond memories of Eric Morecombe to keep it warm, Tottenham Hotspur may be Champions of the Premiership.
The Tottenham Hotspur Club Shop will no longer have Betamax cassettes of their North Circular Relegation League Cup Final and Inter Toto Cup third round exits to titivate and excite enthusiastic Poultry. No they will have a farm fresh, straight from the chicken house, DVD of "their year". There will be bus parades. There will be chants of "Champions".
Chas and Dave will ring out on the airwaves, and exciting celebrity Tottenham fans, will emerge like long forgotten KGB sleepers.
Channel 4 will air " The glory glory days" in remembrance of 1961 and Talksport will play their favourite tune from 1961 "Tip Top Tottenham Hotspur".
They will sing once again of their love for Cyril Knowles and his quality goalscoring.
It will be truly, truly revolting, and we will become the third best team in London.
And what of Mr Wenger when and if this comes to pass ?
In the season where both Manchester clubs as well as Chelsea decided to tie their bootlaces together resulting in their falling flat on their faces most weeks of the season, will those who love and admire him finally, in the event of a Spurs triumph come to see the efficacy of dispensing, tearfully and doubtless with a hearty golden goodbye, with the Manager's services?
I feel instinctively, that the time has come for them to speak.
Herbert Chapman made us great, Bertram Mee and Don Howe made us feared, George Graham restored our dignity and brought Liverpool low. The present regime will have overseen Chelsea as Champions of Europe, and if we are not very, very determined, Tottenham Champions of England. Who is next for the title? West Ham United?