My unwanted opinion

  The Wins You Don’t Notice It’s easy to overlook progress when it doesn’t look the way you expected. You picture big moments—new roles, promotions, clear milestones. But most of the time, progress doesn’t arrive like that. It’s quieter. Less obvious. It’s showing up when you don’t feel like it. Learning something new without anyone noticing. Taking steps that don’t feel significant in isolation. And because they’re small, you don’t always give them the credit they deserve. Redefining Progress For a long time, I measured progress against other people. Where they were, how quickly they were moving, what they’d achieved. If I wasn’t keeping up, it felt like I wasn’t moving at all. But progress isn’t always visible. Sometimes it’s internal—how you think, how you handle setbacks, how you respond to challenges. It’s harder to measure, but it still matters. Building Something Quietly There were long periods where it didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere. Working, writing, trying to fig...

Falling Behind Without Realising I don’t think anyone really prepares you for how it feels to watch others move ahead while you stay in place. Someone lands a role you once talked about. Another gets promoted. Someone else seems to have figured it all out—career, direction, momentum. At first, it’s subtle. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that everyone’s path is different. But quietly, a sense lingers: maybe you’ve fallen slightly out of step. Not jealousy, exactly, just the faint ache of being a step behind. The Illusion of Catching Up I thought my degree would be enough. That opportunities would wait. I coasted a little, believing things would naturally fall into place. They didn’t. By the time I realised, others had momentum, experience, direction. I had to recalibrate, figure things out while trying to keep pace. It’s a strange position—moving forward while always aware of those further ahead. Lockdown added another layer. Grateful to have a job, I erred on the side of caution,...

 A Change You Don’t Notice I’m not sure there’s a single moment where it shifts. No clear line between chasing what you want and making decisions that make sense. It’s gradual—subtle. A change you only notice when you look back. I trained to become a journalist, imagining myself on the sidelines at World Cups, capturing the highs, the heartbreaks, the defining moments for fans everywhere. But life had other plans. A detour through hospitality eventually led me into marketing, a path that still satisfies my love for storytelling, connection, and creativity—even if it wasn’t the World Cup press pass I’d imagined. At some point, priorities just… adjust. Reweight. Reframe. Life, like football, rarely lets you operate under ideal conditions for long. When Ambition Meets Reality Being a football fan is a constant negotiation between hope and circumstance. Some seasons, everything points toward ambition: progress, possibility, the hope that things are finally aligning. Then something shif...

Why We Still Care Spurs Memories in a Difficult Season If you read my previous post, "Spurs Are Not Fine: Drift, Detachment and the Fear of the Drop" , you'll know the mood around Tottenham right now isn't exactly optimistic. Writing that piece made me think about something else though. If supporting Spurs can feel this exhausting at times, why do we keep coming back? For me, the answer isn't really about trophies or league positions. It's about moments — the kind of fleeting, ridiculous, utterly unforgettable experiences that make the lows bearable and remind you why you keep caring. The First Hook My first game was a 0–0 draw with Aston Villa at White Hart Lane in 2001. Not exactly the most glamorous introduction to football. In fact, the match itself was fairly uneventful, a quiet opener with little to write home about. But I don’t remember the score, the tactics, or any key plays — I remember the noise, the swell of the crowd, the smell of the stadium, the...

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from watching the same mistakes on repeat. Not dramatic mistakes. Not spectacular implosions. Just the slow, predictable kind. The type where a full-back gives up position too easily, a midfielder jogs instead of presses, and an attack fizzles out like a flat can of supermarket cola. And you sit there thinking: I’ve seen this episode before. Empty football stadium at sunset representing uncertainty around Tottenham’s Premier League future and fears of relegation. We’re Repeating Ourselves Now Two wins in twenty games. That’s not a blip. That’s not variance. That’s not “trust the process.” That’s a spiral. Yes, there’s an injury crisis. Yes, the Champions League campaign has provided moments of genuine excitement. But as enjoyable as those European nights have been, they are not the priority anymore. Survival is. When you’re four points above the drop zone, glamour competitions become a luxury item. Like heated seats in a car that’s mis...

  As I’ve watched over the years, the decline of Tottenham Hotspur has been impossible to ignore. A team that once threatened to upset the established elite and for over a decade maintained their place towards the top end of the Premier League table has been allowed to fade away into a shadow of its former self. We were promised trophies, but in the end we have one Europa League , a litany of former managers and now a relegation battle to show for it. This, from a team that once saw itself as a key part of a proposed European Super League, is simply not good enough but the writing has been on the wall for years. A confused message All fingers point towards ENIC and their management of the club. Yes, we have a sparkly new stadium, yes we were perched within the top 4-6 places for a decade and until this season, the days of fearing a relegation battle were long gone. Now, following the sacking of Thomas Frank a mere 8 months after succeeding Ange Postecoglou, Tottenham are looking fo...