Still humble, five days in. At the end of this strangely brittle Tottenham victory, a sustained thrashing of an invertebrate West Ham that somehow ended up a chancy 3-2 win, Jos Mourinho appeared on the London Stadium turf wearing his most convincing relievedyetrespectful face.
Behold: for I am the humblest. The humblissimus, a superstar of humility. Frowning deeply, face contorted into a rictus of dignified integrity, Mourinho pointedly shook the hands of the West Ham players, who looked a little surprised. There was a tentative round of applause towards the Tottenham fans, but from a distance, like a tremulous arm around the back of the cinema seat on a broadly successful second date.
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