Diary of the Current Spurs Manager - or Antonio Conte: Diary of the 42nd Spurs Manager - sacking edition

Thursday: Contrary to opinion, I love being the Current Spurs Manager. It’s just the owners, the players, and every single person associated with the club that I hate. I will never leave.

Friday: To WHSmiths to buy a new notepad, as the draft for my book ‘Everything And Everybody I Hate About Tottenham Hotspur Football Club’ reaches its eleventh volume. Putting my purchase through the self-service till, a familiar voice asks “Would you like to add a bar of Dairy Milk for a pound?” It is Gareth Bale, assistant store manager, leaving me so shocked, I said “Yes”. An alarm went off because I was the first person ever to take this deal, and now apparently I own WHSmiths. 

Saturday: Had an offer from celebrity football fans the Pet Shop Boys to make a West End jukebox musical based on my forthcoming book ‘Everything And Everybody I Hate About Tottenham Hotspur Football Club’. I accept immediately.

Sunday: After a surprisingly fast turnaround, it’s the opening night of ‘Everything And Everybody I Hate About Tottenham Hotspur Football Club’ at the Wenger Theatre in London’s West End, the new jukebox musical by the Pet Shop Boys. I’m so excited that I’ve invited Mr Levy, the entire first, womens and youth team squads, and all the stadium and training ground staff to the premiere. They received the show in silent reverence, and as the curtain went down on the final number “You’re all shit, you overpaid twats” I asked what they thought. They were not altogether positive.

Monday: Mr Levy has summoned me to his office. He has had an offer for the film rights of my successful book and stage show from a company called Gooner Studios, and he is not pleased. The words “mutual consent”, “clear your desk” and “bigger bellend than Mourinho, if that were at all possible” were spoken. Ah well, I’ve enjoyed this body, time to go.

[CCTV footage at the Current Spurs Stadium shows a bright white light emerging from the outgoing Current Spurs Manager’s chest, which, in an explosion of light and sound rockets out of his head, hands, and extremities. The light wanes, to reveal a new Current Spurs Manager, with a new face, and new peculiar ideas of running a football team.]

Tuesday: If they ever find out I’m a Timelord, stranded on Earth, keeping a low profile by not actually winning anything, I’m going to have to find a real job. Which reminds me: I need to fix this TARDIS, because disguised as the Spurs trophy cabinet, it’s smaller on the inside.

Read the inimitable Alistair Coleman in every print issue of the Gooner Fanzine. 

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