Having watched both legs of the Spurs versus PSV Eindhoven tie in the UEFA Cup, it was (unsurprisingly!) with great delight that I saw them crash out of Europe. Their exit was made even sweeter due to the fact that it was via a penalty shoot-out, a series of spot-kicks that all Gooners could sit back and enjoy with relish. We all take joy in seeing the rabble from Sh**e Hart Lane bumbling from one defeat to another, and ending each season with even greater disappointment than the last. We have always done this and will always do it, it’s a bitter rivalry – we have no choice!

However, this season has brought about a slight upturn in the fortunes of the Lillysh**es, the effect of which has seen their deluded supporters get increasingly carried away at what this collection of ‘footballing giants’ is set to achieve. Remember this was the season in which we were going to lose our place amongst the ‘Big Four’ in the Premier League to Martin Jol’s men (as they were then); we were a young and inexperienced side, all set to collapse without our recently departed club captain Thierry Henry. They were buying up any dodgy player that they clapped eyes on at hugely inflated prices (Darren Bent anyone?!) and had a squad bursting at the seams with world class talent… really?!! As the early season progressed we made a barnstorming start (thank God for that late, late Hleb goal against Fulham on opening day) and they had an absolutely shambolic one. ‘Race for fourth place’ was over by mid-September, but that’s been conveniently forgotten during the recent euphoria-like state of most Spurs fans.

Let’s get the issue of the Carling Cup out of the way as quickly as possible – as I’m sure we’ll be reminded for a long while to come, Spurs knocked us out good and proper. We were incredibly poor in the first leg at home, yet still managed to scramble back into the game and earn a 1-1 draw, via the shin of little Theo. The less said about the second leg, the better really. We got caught cold right from the kick-off and Jenas’ goal, never recovered and the night got increasingly worse. It was inevitable that we would lose a North London derby one day, so with a weakened line-up and the opposition absolutely pumped up (we all know that the two matches per season against us are like cup finals themselves for our neighbours, hence the manic work-rate for the first hour or so) that day had arrived. The fact that we lost quite so spectacularly seems to be a knack we have developed for the latter stages of the domestic cup competitions this season, the explanation of which is one of the very few things Arsene doesn’t know!

As for the final itself, where were Chelsea? Avram Grant’s pick ‘n’ mix team of superstars seemingly turned up at Wembley thinking they had a divine right to walk off with the cup. Had any of the them shown the effort that Joe Cole did when he was introduced, far too late in the game if you ask me, then it might well have been a different story. The sheer good fortune of the winning goal was equally frustrating. We benefited ourselves in December from a lapse in concentration by Petr Cech. He was on hand again to help Spurs as he pushed the ball on to Woodgate’s head and the ball rebounded into the empty net. Spurs are admittedly better organised under new manager Juande Ramos, so had no real trouble in holding out to win their first trophy since 1999, won during the reign of former Arsenal man George Graham. Cue pandemonium from both the fans and the players, Robbie Keane was running around looking like he’d just managed to sell his whole stock of lucky heather in one big shipment! No need anymore to hang around the entrances to shopping precincts on non-matchdays for the biggest f**king moaner in the English game.

With the first piece of silverware this century safely in the Sh**e Hart Lane trophy cabinet, canteen cupboard or whatever they’re using to store the odd two-bob cup, a change began to occur in the fans of these perennial under-achievers. Suddenly this rag-tag team were world beaters and there were no doubts in the deluded minds of their supporters, that the team would brush aside all-comers in the UEFA Cup en route to victory in the final. Despite struggling to scrape past the giants of Slavia Prague in the first knockout round, a team that we comfortably banged seven goals past in the Champions League group stages, the myth of European glory lived on. However, as soon as they came up against a half-decent side in PSV, it all looked slightly different. The Dutch side’s gung-ho attacking tactics in the first leg caught Ramos’ men out and they deservedly lost, finding themselves staring in the face of an ‘early’ exit from the competition.

The second leg was as dull a football match as you could be unfortunate to stumble across whilst flicking through your TV channels, as PSV forgot that they were the home side and simply shut up shop. Spurs showed little or no sign of breaking their opponents down, as much as the Dutch defence and their comedy ‘keeper tried to assist them. The game moved into the last ten minutes and from a simple lofted cross into the centre, Berbatov unleashed a cracking volley that flew into the net and put his side level. As is apparent to most football fans, the Bulgarian forward is one of the moodiest gits in the top flight; unfortunately he has the talent to match an attitude that absolutely stinks when the game isn’t going his way. Surely this was it, the name of Tottenham Hotspur was ‘on the cup’ and they were well and truly on their way?! Having played out a fairly uneventful period of extra-time, a penalty shoot-out was needed to settle the tie. PSV missed one of their penalties and it fell to Jermaine Jenas to send Spurs through, casual as you like he strolled up and promptly saw his tame effort saved… woo-hay!

Sudden death followed and both teams scored their next penalties, the home side promptly slotted home another and up stepped Pascal ‘I’ve got a transfer request down my sock and I’m not afraid to use it’ Chimbonda to keep those UEFA Cup dreams alive. He dragged his penalty pathetically wide and the PSV fans celebrated wildly, as did all us Arsenal fans back home. At last our closest rivals (geographically speaking only!) have been brought down to earth with a bump, and I have found that their fans have gone awfully quiet for supporters that were so vocal in the preceding weeks. As the old saying goes, Spurs can now concentrate on the league, making sure that they hold down the lofty eleventh place spot that they currently occupy. The advantage of them winning the Carling Cup means that they’re back in the UEFA Cup next season and we can enjoy their exploits again, as they build up false hope before crashing out as soon as they face a team with any sort of quality.

As we march into the quarter-finals of the Champions League, thanks to a historical first win for an English side against AC Milan in the San Siro, and look down on all of our rivals as we sit atop the Premier League table, we can breathe a collective huge sigh of relief that we’re still a million miles more advanced than the team we most love to laugh at. All in all it’s pretty much business as usual in North London and we wouldn’t have it any other way!