Then again, mind when Sissoko was at Newcastle and was terrible in every game he played and terrible in the Euros and still moved?
I certainly do. One of these days I must stop laughing about that transfer.
(Spurs traumatised me as a child by signing Waddle and Gascoigne. But selling them Kevin Scott and Jermaine Jenas had seemed like pretty harsh payback. This was the sort of savage revenge usually only served up by playwrights whose names end in 'us').
Spurs' basic premise- finding someone who did different things to the players they already had- was sound enough. The flaw was their landing someone who didn't do anything different that was remotely useful. One can only wonder how strong Pochettino's team might now be had that money been sensibly spent.
It must be noted that the Sissoko fee made the difference between Newcastle enjoying immediate promotion and falling into a sunderlandesque tailspin. (Admittedly, as it turns out said tailspin may only have been delayed by twelve months, but at least the media's horror when Lovely Fairytale Club and the Neutrals' Champions Brighton- Who Definitely Didn't Turn Themselves Around Under Chris Hughton By Spending More Than One Hundred Percent of Their Turnover On Wages or Running Up Nine Figure Debts- fumbled the Championship trophy on the final straight into the laps of Those Nasty Undeserving Geordies and their Overrated Manager- Who Only Won Because Of The Unfair Financial Advantage of Parachute Payments That Only They Enjoyed, And Definitely Not Cardiff, Fulham, Norwich, QPR and Villa too- was a hoot).
But I digress. Back to good old Moussa, who even as I type this is probably tucked up in bed in his London mansion, dreaming of those thrilling upfield runs of his that bring the crowd to a roar. (And culminate in a too-heavy touch, a collision with a stubbornly-placed defender, or a slapstick accident involving his own feet). An honourable mention must be made to Everton, whose new owner's desperation to prove their relevance spawned a ludicrous bid that helped ramp up the sale price. To say nothing of Didier Deschamps, who heroically fashioned the Euro 2016 final into such a clanging balls-up, thereby pushing Sissoko to the fore and gifting the world one of the extremest proofs yet of how the English are suckers for rock-headed athleticism over intelligence and skill.