O me, of little faith. When I accepted an invitation to speak at the Hay festival in January, it never occurred to me to check what day this year’s Champions League final was being played. Spurs reached the knockout stages of the competition thanks to a late goal away to Barcelona, but that was the limit of my ambition. The final was for other clubs – bigger, slicker clubs. Then we thumped top German side Borussia Dortmund. That wasn’t what we do, I told myself. Normal service will soon be resumed. Next came all-conquering Manchester City. All the way up to the Etihad Stadium I asked myself what I was doing, making a 400-mile round trip that was bound to end in disappointment. I thought Spurs had blown it, in classic Spurs style, conceding a goal in the dying moments of injury time. A minute later came the VAR offside ruling. I drove home in shock. That wasn’t what we do, I told myself. Normal service will soon be resumed. The second leg of the semi-final against Ajax appeared to be going entirely to plan. At half-time, we were 3-0 down on aggregate, playing badly and certain to go out….