You see, now you're worshiping them... Pochettino's weak attitude has subliminally filtered through to your subconscious as a fan and you're now unknowingly entering into the "Godiola" trance that the rest of English footy is currently stumbling about in.
Soon you'll be sacrificing your Spuds memorabilia in strange, wild rituals to this bald, twitchy new god. Your eyes glazed with a sky blue lust.
Muttering to yourself, "thank you, sheik mansour, thank you, sheik mansour", as you attempt to make love to your partner, only for her (or him) to jump out of bed screaming, "what have you become?". But you're not even listening, you just lie there with your eyes glazed over thinking of Sterling, Silva, Jesus... "thank you shiek mansour, thank you shiek mansour".
It's a slippery, oil slicked path, my friend.