THFC: Walker, Young (Fox 22), Vega, Campbell, Perry, Taricco, Sherwood, Clemence, Nielsen, Ginola (Dominguez 74), Iversen, Fox (Armstrong 71).
Subs Not Used: Baardsen, Gower.
Sent Off:
Booked: Clemence, Vega.

Referee: Graham Poll again. Most definitely not a Newcastle fan but happily no great admirer of the falling Frenchman.

Goals:

5 mins Speed 1-0

27 mins Dabizas 2-0

34 mins Ginola 2-1

45 mins Ferguson 3-1

73 mins Dyer 4-1

83 mins Shearer penalty 5-1

85 mins Shearer 6-1

Waffle: As the dejected players trooped off at Valley Parade the previous Saturday to a mixture of derision and indifference from the underwhelmed travelling contingent, this result looked about as likely as Jeffrey Archer becoming London Mayor.

Profligacy in front of goal and a revival of the porous tendencies of the defence had seen a poor Bradford side deservedly snatch three points from a distinctly disjointed United. The prospect of an average Spurs side visiting St.James' for the cup replay, while not an insurmountable task, seemed one which would tax Bobby's boys. How wrong we were.

In contrast to the first game, George Graham's team of underachievers seemed ill-suited to the whole event, both in attitude and ability, not to mention a distinctly dodgy formation that resulted in a gap down the Spurs left that a Geordie Milennium dome could have been built on. Someone seemed to have tipped off the Spurs fans that this was one to avoid, and consequently the normal away corner was sparsely populated and additional space allocated in the Milburn paddocks stood virtually unused. Those that stayed in North London no doubt still suffered the live SKY coverage, but at least they didn't have to travel the length of the M1, with only the plaintive bleating of fellow malcontents on Radio 5 for company.

Right from the off, it was clear that Butt had been kicked (as our American buddies would say - nowt to do with Man United) and Spurs were left flailing as early as the fifth minute when Speed opened the scoring. The preening French ponce showed little of note, and his every touch was greeted with a cacophony of insults and jeering from all four sides of the ground. Although he was to answer some of his critics with a first half goal, albeit via a deflection, his side were already two down by then thanks to shabby marking of  Dabizas from a set piece.

One of the golden moments of the season then unfolded before our joyful eyes with the referee poised to blow his whistle for the interval. A terrible piece of Ian Walker goalkeeping (England, my arse) presented a chance to Duncan Ferguson and he lashed the ball home for number three before performing an ancient foul-mouthed tartan ritual war dance in celebration. I bet even lipreaders were offended....

As if that wasn't reason enough to cheer, the half time break came with a disconsolate Ginola sitting in the centre circle, pleading in vain with the referee for a free kick after a robust challenge from Lee. To the unbridled delight of the crowd, Graham Poll strode towards the Frenchman before indicating first the touchline then mimicking a stretcher. Cue more frantic Gallic shrugging and armwaving, more suited to a Paris road traffic accident than a football pitch. The half ended with Ginola limping off the pitch behind the clearly unimpressed officials,  prompting a further deafening wave of abuse from the locals. Some people even denied themselves the luxury of a pint or a runoff to remain in their places and give the vaudevillian buffoon their own particular brand of vocal attention. Splendid stuff.

3-1 seemed a matchwinning scoreline at this stage, but by the time a clearly woundup Dyer bounded on for Gallacher, the impetus seemed to have diminished slightly, and further goals looked less likely, despite almost total one way traffic towards Walker in the Gallowgate goal. Within seconds however, the missing ingredient was available in abundance, with Dyer dancing down the Spurs right in what looked like a chemically affected manner. After a couple of decisive passes just failed to reach their destination, he embarked on another run goalwards, and as the Spurs defence backed off, looked up and picked his spot, rolling a shot perfectly beyond Walker from the edge of the box. Pure genius. Watching the game on TV later, Bobby Robson looked as if he was going to burst into tears at this point....

That goal sent most of the few remaining Spurs fans towards the exits and the Spurs players may has well have got on the bus for all the good they were. The substitute Fox was taken off having barely touched the ball, while Ginola left to another hearty collective chuckle.

Further goals from big Al, one a penalty after he was tugged back, the other a powerful header just emphasised the gap between these two supposedly equally-matched teams on the night. George Graham at least had the decency in the post-match interviews to look embarassed and concede his side were spineless and thoroughly rotten.

A prize of a home tie against Sheffield United was duly claimed then, and while the boys from Bramall Lane may not have cost as much as the White Hart Lane Posse, it's a fair bet they'll show a damn sight more guts and nerve than the product of Alan Sugar's wasted millions.

Before the semi-final last season, I wanted a victory to avenge the travesty of the 1987 cup tie at White Hart Lane, with the dodgy penalty and disgraceful police actions, but this hammering was really payback time. That Chas and Dave Wembley record will have to stay in "the can" for another year, thankfully......