I appreciate I'm probably in a fairly small minority (possibly alone on here), but he has managed to kill my interest to the point where I genuinely don't care one way or another about the final (and I've tried). As little as a year ago, I wouldn't have believed you if you'd told me that.
Even if we do manage to squeak past Man Utd somehow — which I would doubt, even were I as positive a person as some of you, and for reasons I hardly need elaborate on (Rapazes, é o Tottenham) — it will be completely hollow for me. It's now a devalued competition for a start, largely filled with mediocrity, the final of which will be contested by two teams 16th and 17th in their domestic league, so attempts to draw comparison with past glories leave me rather cold.
I will watch the game as dispassionately as I did the one on Sunday (the first time I've ever left a game early in the 52 years since my first attendance, sitting on my uncle's shoulders in the Park Lane), and just as I have done the vast majority of our games this season. At the final whistle, I'll feel nothing, regardless of the outcome. Literally the only thing I want to hear is that he is finally gone.