Time for my traditional Easter message to the world. My friends, I cannot begin to describe how much I detest DIY. Easter Sunday, 9am is the time the meaning of Easter is alive and well in the sunny suburban streets, further evidence that the British power-tool industry is in rude health. I was hacking away at something in the garden, which, completely coincidentally, was compete just before kick-off. By half-time I seriously thought about getting back outside again.

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My granddaughter hurtled downstairs to greet me this afternoon. She hurtles everywhere. “Oh my god granddad, that was the worst game EVER.” Only 10 but a good judge already. The poorest match I’ve seen this season in the Premier League and Spurs played their full part. The clocks went forward a couple of weeks ago, apparently to mid-summer as this game played in bright sunshine had the air of a pre-season friendly rather than a fight for 3 points to take us above Liverpool into 5th place. A Burnley fan I follow on twitter complained of sunburn after the match. Sunburn, in Burnley, first week in April. That’s how odd this match was.

Spurs continued their lacklustre recent form. Mason and Bentaleb are playing OK in centre mid but there’s a lack of power and drive. There’s no momentum to our attacks. Eriksen was in and out of the action. In and around the Burnley box he was involved in several neat one-twos, usually active when the full-backs came into attacking areas. However, the players alongside him, Chadli and Paulinho, seldom responded. Up front, Kane looked isolated and weary. Wearing those support trunks under his shorts and tentatively stretching, it seems he was worried about his groin, a sure sign of over-playing. Not so much one game too far, more like ten, but he gets a free pass after a season like this.

Burnley deserve great credit for their phenomenal organisation and work-rate. it was hard to find a way through and Spurs never showed the required creativity. However, because of their efforts off the ball they could not get enough players into our box often enough. As a result they failed to pressure our makeshift centreback partnership of Chiriches and Dier with the long diagonal that has come back into vogue in the PL since Fellani’s success with it at Old Trafford.

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We managed to tie ourselves in knots at the back, of course we did, but kept a clean sheet in the end despite a few scares. Ings shot straight at Vorm early on to miss the best chance of the afternoon. Our reserve keeper had a good afternoon, making several decent saves. One moment of weakness – off his line to make a punch, he was easily beaten in the air. We did our best to mix it up. Davies replaced an injured Walker and slotted in at centre half while Chiriches moved to right-back, so we had a full-back at centre half and an centre-half at full-back…

Not a lot more to say really. Our lack of spark and movement on the ball up front meant we made little more than a few half-chances. Paulinho was awful. Playing centre-midfield he provided nothing, except a second half shot when put through on the keeper so laughably feeble it will go down in legend as the moment that summed up his Tottenham career. What a terrible waste – of his talent and our money.

Chiriches did the shielding the ball out of play thing – except he backed into the Burnley player and knocked him over. Clear penalty, clear stupidity, but not given. Shame we did not see Townsend before the 80th minutes – not sure he touched the ball at all. His momentum from the England game seemed a perfect way to change the game’s balance. But it was one of those days when nothing could shake us out of our stupor.

Frustrating but take a step back and we know how hard it is for young players to sustain form and resilience over an extended period. Part of their learning, so let’s move on to the next one – which may not be that much different. Pre-season seems closer suddenly.

So England suddenly start playing like worldbeaters as soon as four Spurs players are together on the pitch. COINCIDENCE?!!? Well, yeah, it probably was…but it was grand to see.

This is one of the things I love about football. The number of words in any given week about any given match devoted to analysis and predictions, and I include myself in this of course, confounded by reality. Come on, we love those four, they’re four of our own and no one else can say a bad word about them, but Kane aside, would you have picked Townsend, Mason and Walker for this international? I wouldn’t. Yet look what happened and I’m pleased as punch for them.

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I went through my usual routine for England games, tried and tested over many years now. Spent the day telling myself and others that I wasn’t that bothered and probably wouldn’t watch it, watched it, berated myself for watching it, as the second half looked like being the same old story noodled around on the computer…and then looked up to see Andros light the blue touchpaper and send a rocket into the corner. Then he runs 60 yards, powerful, direct, down the left, defenders nowhere near him. This from a player whose contribution to Spurs’ season so far has been to look a bit worried sometimes.

Cue more analysis. ‘Andros Townsend, he plays on the left..’ COINCIDENCE?!!? Done that one already…but Tottenham On My Mind has been advocating he plays on the left for at least two years. I hope it does him a power of good. He knows he’s not playing well and he does not have a smart enough football mind to know what to do to put it right. Against Italy, he released his pent-up instincts, played a natural game and just flew.

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Kane is a hero and the rest of football is catching up with what Spurs fans have known for some time now. Fresh, clean-cut, down to earth on and off the pitch, it’s a story that will run and run, although I’m sure the Mail are even as I type hatching a plot to hack his phone and expose the shocking truth that Harry once had a hair out of place.

Kane makes the headlines but the real story is the rise of Ryan Mason from nowhere via a successful US summer tour to the England midfield. We have begun to accept that the loan system can develop players for the first team and not be a precursor to a free-transfer and a career in the lower leagues. Yet Mason was a perpetual loanee and an unsuccessful one at that. Partly this was due to injuries but the promise that I saw fleetingly when he was in his late teens seemed destined to be unfulfilled. It is nothing less than remarkable, much of it achieved by guts and a bloody-minded refusal to give up on playing for the navy blue and white. Well played, sir, well played, and I’m delighted I could watch it happen.

And so to a parlour game beloved of Spurs fans everywhere – pick a ‘Best Of..’ XI. What is your best ever Spurs team made up of homegrown players. Yes I know I could write a whole blog about the defintion of home-grown but let’s just get on with it. It’s a Bank Holiday, what else have you got to do and it will keep you out of B&Q.

Chris Kaufmann got this going. Here’s what he says, and sincere thanks to him for getting touch:

“With the emergence of Hurricane Harry Kane at the Lane, I fell to musing about my best ever home-produced Tottenham team since I first viewed the Lillywhites in the mid 1950s. Here it is:

Ted (the Cat) Ditchburn (league champion), Joe Kinnear, Ron Henry (Double Winner), Sol Campbell, Ledley King, Steve Perryman, Glenn Hoddle, Tommy Harmer (the Charmer), Harry Kane, Nick Barmby, Jimmy Neighbour

Subs, Ian Walker, Chrissie Hughton, Phil Beal, Micky Hazard, Mark Falco, Terry Dyson, Len (the Duke) Duquemin

A number of home produced players went on to do great things at other clubs. Players like Graham Souness, Kerry Dixon, Keith Weller and Terry Gibson. But my team strutted their best stuff at White Hart Lane”

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So can you do better? Dream CB pairing of King and ‘ahem’ Campbell? Kane good enough to be up front? I was a big fan of Phil Beal, very unlucky not to play for England so I might slip him in at full-back. And I once saw Jimmy Neighbour run up to take a corner and instead kick the corner flag so it broke in half. No place for Stuart Nethercott or Guy Butters? And who is your all-time favourite? Clue: the answer is Steve Perryman.

First minute, bottom of the table Leicester attack down Spurs’ left. Walker is out-paced but despite the fact that the attacker is offside, launches himself off the ground, man and ball go flying. The only casualty is Hugo Lloris, our best player and mainstay of a shaky defence, who is stretchered off with what looks like a serious leg injury. Probably performing a public service – unchecked Walker would have taken out the entire front row of the Paxton, such was his velocity. From the restart, Spurs give the ball straight to opponents. Cue goalmouth scramble which we eventually clear. This week Eriksen claimed in an interview not to know what ‘Spursy’ meant. You do now, my Danish friend, you do now.

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This bizarre opening set the tone for a match that was genuinely extraordinary, and not in a good way. The sort of match where your full-back putting your keeper in hospital wasn’t the strangest thing that happened. That honour could fall to any one of several players and events, but the most peculiar thing was that we won.

Parts of the match were average Spurs, flashes of brilliance from Eriksen, effort from Rose and a close-range tap-in for Kane, amid the familiar stuttering, lack of fluency and inability to keep possession against teams below us in the league. Parts were jaw-droppingly crass stupidity, levels of mindlessness surpassed only by a steely determination to at all costs throw away a two-goal lead. Twice. Tactics be damned, mistakes I can live with, goodness knows I’m used to that by now. This is about one thing – how can professional footballers possibly be so witless?

On two or three occasions we passed free-kicks in the Leicester half backwards. Seconds later they had the ball and bore down on goal, scoring from one such gifted opportunity. Instead of being two up and coasting, we were straight away under pressure. Walker allowed Vardy inside him repeatedly by getting caught under the ball. Like others, the Foxes targeted our vulnerable right side. I have no idea where Townsend was, which sums up his afternoon in fact.

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I’ve criticised Nacer Chadli since he came to the club. He’s the sort of player I don’t like, hugely talented but not prepared to work for the right to play. When he does put the hard yards in, as against Chelsea, he gets results. Yesterday he had a nightmare worse than the Omen, Exorcist and Chucky rolled into one. He whacked two great chances over the bar, an open goal in the first half after Eriksen’s superb run across the box, quality out of character with the game, ended with his shot hitting the post and rebounding to the Belgian, the other at the far post from Dier’s perfect cross.

In between, his performance was a series of calamities, all of which he brought on himself. The worst? First half, put through, he ended up doing the worst dive since my belly flop from the ten metre board at Crystal Palace in 1981 (I swear it still hurts…). Second half was when I confess I lost it. No danger, until he tried to shepherd a ball out of play that was never going to go out of play unless he kicked it. He didn’t and Leicester nearly scored or had a penalty or nearly had him sent off as he had already been booked. We were winning at the time but our Nacer wasn’t having any of it. Miraculously he stayed on the pitch until the final whistle. He must have some dirt on Pochettino, that can be the only reason.

We won. I have no rational explanation for this. Before kick-off a friend of mine told me she would cut out the swearing as another pal was bringing her young niece. She could not have possibly kept that promise, watching a game like this one.

All over the place and two up after a quarter of an hour. Do you get it now, Christian? Dier improvised a poor low near-post corner with a clever flick. The keeper pushed it obligingly onto Kane’s foot, then for the second Kane’s shot was massively deflected, and in. Some neat football with Eriksen’s clever passing and Kane’s willing running was soon forgotten as we let Leicester back into the game. Time and again we gave the ball away. Rose played well, getting into the box from deep and just before half-time making a goal-saving tackle.

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Rather than signalling a resurgence, the second half became more farcical as time went on. Spurs are not a big side. At set pieces Bentaleb had been marking Morgan, one of the three Easter Island statues Leicester play at centre-half. He surged past the Algerian to thump an equalizer home.

It looked as if we had thrown this one away – no idea how to score. In fact, make that no idea. Then we got lucky, frankly not for the first time this season. Rose went down and the ref gave a dubious penalty. Kane converted confidently, no rebounds this time, for his hat-trick. Sincere congratulations, where would we have been without him this season? And because I care about you, H, some advice. If you know what’s good for you, don’t remember anything apart from the goals in heinous sin of a performance.

When you’re down, you’re down. As if Leicester needed reminding of this, Eriksen’s shot was blocked by the keeper but the rebound hit an onrushing defender who despairingly tried to scoop the ball off the line, and failed.

We won. I’m still not sure how. Two goals to the good again with a few minutes to go is not enough for us. Some sides would close it down but we allow an aimless long-ball to destroy our defence. Vertonghen got under it, round it, over it, everything except defending it. Nugent scored but we managed to play out time, only after another goal-saving last-ditch challenge, this time from Vertonghen.

The flaws of the squad, mental as well as in terms of talent, laid bare. Eriksen and Mason had little impact on the second half. Townsend was hooked again after contributing nothing. I like the fact Pochettino gives players a chance but you wonder why he regularly picks Andros and then substitutes him.

We won, I don’t know how but I’m grateful. This could be the worst I have ever seen Spurs play and win. Certainly the worst where we have scored four goals.

So much wrong with this performance but I’ll end by singling out just one point. The lack of on-field leadership is becoming glaringly obvious. Young players learn resilience over time. They are made of the right stuff – Mason, Kane, Dier and Bentaleb are all fearless and willing to take responsibility. However, they need some guidance and it won’t come from the current squad. After his error, Vertonghen gave that silly half-shrug he does as he chuntered on to the other players. Can’t even shrug properly. He is the experienced player, an international and World Cup player. Older maybe but not wiser. He’s not willing to step up. Worse in my mind than making a defensive error.

And to think this was the game where we matched ourselves against one of the top four, when anything was possible. Three points and closing at kick-off, at full-time there was nothing left except a gaping gulf in class, United at their best, Spurs at their pitiful worst.

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The match is over, except in my head. Ask me about the abiding image of this one, it’s of Spurs players staggering and stumbling like drunks on a weekend bender. Couldn’t keep the ball, couldn’t pass, couldn’t even stand up half the time. By the end, Kane was taking corners, presumably because it was the only way he could kick the ball without being tackled.

Let’s hoist last week’s concluding metaphor onto the rack and extract every last gasp. The switchback journey onwards became a nightmare ghost train packed with screaming kids, braying Tunbridge Wells stockbrokers on their mobiles and ipod users who don’t realise noise-reducing headphones are easily available on the internet and in the high street (at very reasonable prices I might add) that crashed into the buffers before the doors had barely closed. A couple of regular readers have kindly enquired as to whether the lateness of this column is because I could not face up to this abomination of a performance. Kind of you to enquire after my well-being – it’s actually because of a change in my work patterns but rest assured that I will keep spewing this stuff out albeit a bit late sometimes. But the first half was really one to watch from behind the sofa.

Twice this weekend I heard commentators refer to the ‘democracy’ of the Premier League. It is nothing of the sort of course. The top four is largely a closed shop unless you can afford to buy the privilege of entry to this VIP section of the club. What they meant was, most matches have a competitive edge and sides don’t give up until the match is out of sight. It’s rare that one side should dominate another as completely as United did on Sunday, and that’s before taking into account the fact that teams were separated by only two places. Spurs were eviscerated and none emerge from the slaughter with any credit.

Fact is, though, there was nothing new about the reasons underlying Spurs’ vulnerability. On Sunday Van Gaal exploited the weaknesses I’ve regularly written about: a lack of midfield protection for our full-backs, Dier’s inexperience and the fact that Mason and Bentaleb, strong when the ball is in front of them, are less effective if opponents get round the back. We know it all.

Spurs have been sussed. Our right side is being targeted – West Ham did the same. The only difference was LVG’s ruthlessness. Repeatedly he engineered three attackers versus two defenders, sometimes only one. Spurs were befuddled. Belatedly we tinkered with the set-up, with Bentaleb moving to the right of the defensive midfield pair, but the ordeal ended only when United took it easy in the second half.

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If Gary Neville is doing the analysis on Sky, all blogging on the topic becomes irrelevant. Anyway, the first goal tells the whole story. Walker had gone wide to the touchline to mark up. I think that should be the midfielder’s job to cover with the full-backs tucking in as a compact back four, but at least he was marking someone, not always the case. Mason provided extra security by covering Fellani who had moved inside. But United had a third man out there who gained possession. Mason moved out, fatally leaving Fellani unsupervised. The Belgian ran through and scored.

This pattern was repeated for the next thirty minutes. Walker did not play at all well but without making excuses it was a collective failure. Townsend and Chadli, our two wide midfielders, do not defend effectively. Townsend’s contribution was to look worried. Frankly I expect a bit more. He suffered the indignity of being substituted before half time but switching Chadli, the worst defensive player in the team, to the right smacked of desperation and only made matters worse. Van Gaal has been heavily criticised for his tactics at United but he left Pochettino trailing in his dust.

As a result United were able to attack from several different angles. Mason and Bentaleb, one a good player the other potentially high class, are not naturally strong in our box, unlike, say, Sandro or even Capoue (remember him?) who are more comfortable defending. Sandro was admirably fearless plugging the gaps in the back four. How I miss him…

Anyway, the crosses came in from all angles. As much as possible, United tried to get Fellani on Dier. The young centre half did his best but was repeatedly beaten in the air. Again it’s something we know. He’s inexperienced and to be positive he has exceeded expectations so far. Surely we bought him as an investment to mature in two or three years time.

Bentaleb, rattled, committed an error that in other circumstances would have been catastrophic, a pass deep inside our half straight to an opponent, then goal. It’s just that there were similar cock-ups every few minutes, they scored from this one but there were plenty of others. We could not keep the ball at all. Kane was isolated and offered no respite, Eriksen disappeared. The tattered remnants of our pressing game merely left our men stranded upfield, leaving space for United in front of our back four.

Second half, United kicked off their shoes, picked their toenails, leisurely dip in the hot-tub, chilling until the final whistle. Towards the end we did actually get the ball in their box a couple of times. Adebayor appeared. That’s it.

It was dreadful. The players were uniformly disappointing but Pochettino had the real mare, out-thought tactically and slow to respond.

Nothing new – inexperienced teams show promise but are not known for consistency. The failure of expensive players leaves us exposed despite the laudable commitment of our promising young men. Not time to pick over the bones of the Bale money again, disappeared down the drain into the murky sewers, but how we needed an imposing figure at centre half at Old Trafford and Fazio has much to prove in that respect despite his experience and past achievements. That’s why we bought him.

Four home games left. Win those and see what happens. The top four? Do me a favour.