Another Year Gone, Another Chance Wasted

Despite Spurs’ defeat, or perhaps partly because of it, this weekend conclusively demonstrated that the F.A. Cup is a vibrant, precious competition. At a time when the suggestion to do away with replays is being actively considered, the F.A.’s absolute priority should be to safeguard its future. The impact of the defeat sank in as the draw was made. I’m an old-fashioned fan who believes in the pursuit of trophies, of something that lasts, of moments that last a lifetime. Spurs weren’t part of that draw and it hurt.

Lax and lacklustre, this was the worst performance of the season. Our familiar weaknesses up front were cruelly exposed by lousy defending. Leeds lapped it up with two fine finishes and they worked hard to limit our opportunities, but this was largely down to us.

Misguided team selection was the core of the problem. Although we’ve done well lately, this was a painful and stark reminder of how far we still have to go. We cannot handle making too many changes all at once to the core team. Yesterday’s back five are all good players. Put them together for the first time and they were all over the place. Naughton and Caulker are still learning – it was all too much.

Remember when everyone was trying to second-guess how Villas-Boas would play? The high-line was the thing, the back four defending high up the pitch to cramp the space and style of our opponents. They didn’t like it at Chelsea, bound to go wrong at Spurs. We’ve not seen so much of it because our Andre has learned a few lessons the hard way. Yesterday afternoon, it went wrong, so very wrong. At least three times the trap was sprung. Long ball, one touch, well-timed run and two beautifully taken goals, one Friedel save.

That wasn’t all though. Vertonghen and Caulker were as poor as I’ve seen them. For the second, Caulker took the scenic route to the tackle and by the time his tour of the area was complete, Leeds were two up. Friedel and Lloris have two completely different styles of goalkeeping. The high line needs a sweeperkeeper (new word there, today TOMM tomorrow the OED) and the Frenchman should have played. In passing, several teams came to grief after changing their keeper. No consolation but it shows the value of a settled back five. 

Villas-Boas also took an unnecessarily cautious approach with two defensive midfielders, Huddlestone and Parker. Leeds can play a bit but were most effective with the long, straight ball. This not only unsettled the defence to a ridiculous degree, it took them both out of the game. They were simply bypassed, taken out of the equation with no role to play. Warnock is a master at this level – his tactics were just right.

So we were found wanting when we tried to attack. Hud kept the ball moving but lacked targets up front. Parker worked extremely hard – I had hoped his motivation would rub off on the others, but apparently not. Parker needs to make the tackle or the drive forward, then offload to someone who is more creative or can make a decisive effort on goal. This is not a criticism, just a focus on his strengths. As I said last week, it’s disconcerting to find him as the man furthest forward, yet there was little else going on ahead of him. 

Demps’ movement was decent but he missed a couple of good ones, Siggy invisible when he should have been hanging out in the box. Lennon dashed, Bale got going in the second half but to no avail. Both attacked in isolation with little support. Leeds worked hard in midfield with Brown nibbling at heels just as he did all those years ago when he toiled to keep us up in that dreadful season of Pleat as caretaker. However, when we looked for room in and around the box, we could usually find it. Did nothing with it, mind, but it was there.

We were trying to close a two-goal deficit with two DMs, Siggy doing nothing and no dedicated striker. Dembele came on but played too deep. In and around the box he’s our most creative midfielder – he can pick out his man with a pass and he has a fine shot. It’s imperative that we find a way of enabling him to play further up the field.

Strikers – we learned nothing new. We need one, a good one, or else all our efforts will be in vain. Obika moves well, he’s been well-coached clearly, but he was another who found the play passing him by. He too missed a chance with a poor first touch but that’s not the point – we should not be going into a match like this with an unproven young player as the only sub striker. If the rumours about Defoe’s injury are true, we are in plenty schtuk.

Striker and midfielder have been on the list since the end of last season. The damage was done in August, now it’s the worst time to buy but no more about the transfer window until it’s over. In any season I want Spurs to have a right good go at the cups, especially the FA Cup. Another opportunity wasted by self-inflcited wounds.

Cheer yourself up: The Tottenham Shop sell all manner of interesting and unusual Spurs memorabilia and have kindly offerred an exclusive 10% discount for Tottenham On My Mind readers http://thetottenhamshop.com/ and code tottenhamonmymind. Very kind of them to be sure.

Reflections In The Snow – Spurs Match The Leaders

ImagePlaying Manchester United at home is one of the benchmark matches of the season. It’s a guide to how we rate at the top end of the market, more accurate than playing Ars**al or Ch**sea because it’s intensely competitive without the frantic mayhem of a derby. Spurs came out of it rather well.  Not a classic by any means – our flowing passing game was totally absent in the first half, but this is Man U, nobody gets going against them. Instead, we found a few workarounds to problems that in the past would have seemed unfathomable. We’ve played better but the point is, we kept playing and eventually were rewarded. Keep that up and we’ll be rewarded at the end of the season too.

We deserved this point, but then again when was football ever fair? It’s not about a points victory. Fate turns on those few precious moments when opportunities appear. United took full advantage, as they do. One down to a superb header, a reminder if any were needed of the value of a top quality striker as focal point and finisher.  YES I KNOW he used to play for Them, and that we could have marked better. However, the accuracy of the cross, two stabbing steps backwards and the power of a header, falling backwards, just inside the post. There must be one like that out there, somewhere. Soon come, or else this promise could go to waste.

In the past we would have genuflected to the dominance of our superiors. Instead, we gradually cranked it up and put United on the back foot. We created two golden chances and missed them, two fatal self-inflicted blows or so it seemed. On the Shelf, it was obvious – we were never going to score. Then Lennon pounced on a loose ball. His quick cross sped across the box and Dempsey popped up on the end of it. He’d had a mare of a match and if I had had my way would have been substituted long before his moment of glory, but like the determined pro he is, he somehow put behind him his ghastly miss at the start of the half to keep his head when this second chance presented itself.

USA! USA!s story summed up our afternoon. We put the stuttering first half behind us, 45 minutes that put our limitations on public display.  Plenty of possession but little punch when it mattered, our efforts petering out as we neared the United box. Bale, two men on him, wriggled and writhed but could not break free. Wandering inside, no one could give him the ball and like the rest of them he was swallowed up by United’s massed ranks. Parker toiled in vain, driving on from the midfield, utterly focused on lifting spirits and leading by example. such a fierce glint in his eye when he goes in for a tackle. He ran and ran but he needs someone to pass to when he gets upfield and too often we stood and watched him toil. Parker as the most advanced man is wrong – if only Dembele had taken up those positions instead. I missed Sandro, but then I always do. Out for the season, anyone but him.

Spurs blog 92

 

United play as if they have something in reserve. Even when they defend, it appears as if this is how they want it to be, before they break free. It took me a while to realise how much of the play was in their half. Searching for a way round, we realised, or our manager realised, that if there are two men on Bale then there must be space elsewhere. As the match wore on, Lennon came into it more and more. In this his best season for Spurs, he’s getting better and better. His turn to leave Evra tackling thin air then find Defoe in the heart of the box was dazzling. But Defoe took a touch and the moment was gone.

No matter. Azza kept buzzing away at the United defence like a wasp around a jampot. He’s finally realised that the ball can be his friend. He nurtures it now, caressing and persuading it to do his bidding rather than letting it tame him. The way he holds out both arms when he passes always looks like an involuntary movement caused by a medium-voltage electric charge running through his body. However he does it, he’s mastered a way to stand the ball up at the far post or pass the ball low into the box. His greatest strength undermined all his efforts in the past. How is it physically possible to cross or pass accurately when you run at the speed of sound? He has to slow the legs down to normal speed before doing anything else. Now, he understands his body. Once that is under control, so is the ball.

There was a lot of AVB love around in the papers this past week with both the Independent and Guardian offering positive pieces that covered what the fans already know, that in Villas-Boas we have a shrewd, hard-working leader who has won over the players and is able to get the very best from them. He’s totally dedicated to the club. I suggested before the season began that he is not only desperate to prove himself, the only way he can do so is through his team. He is not interested in personal glory or in pi**ing contests with other managers. Rather, his vindication comes by his team playing good football and being successful. Our team.

The previous incumbent of the post has a reputation for looking after players but just ask Bent, Pav, Gomes or Bentley, literally frozen out in the middle of Russia, what happened if he thought you did not fit in. Now, I can’t recall a time when so many good news stories are emerging from the club. When AVB was appointed, the media were determined that he was the story. Now, it’s his team.

Dawson says he was given a chance even though he could have left, and the boss has realised what he can do. Dempsey has had an inconsistent start, to put it politely, yet is burning to play. This manager lavishes time, care and attention on his charges and they are responding. That’s proper man-management. Being this open is not easy. He could hide away in his office, instead he’s highly visible on the training pitch and in the dressing room. Many leaders retain their authority by remaining aloof. There’s no debate, their word is gospel. Villas-Boas chooses the more difficult option, but by staying open and accessible he places faith in his methods and in the players’ abilities to put them into practice. In return, he inspires loyalty and comittment. This leadership is one that sets targets and a vision that is for the good of everyone, that empowers players who discover in themselves their true ability and retain it, as opposed to relying on someone else to motivate. It’s a feeling that lasts and it can do nothing but good for the club. Not AVB as an individual, but to the club.

In contrast, the media coverage yesterday has all been about one individual as Fergie exerts his customary influence on the football news agenda. It was all about him, telling tales on a linesman who denied a penalty appeal. It obscured the suggestion that he may have been at fault. United frequently use the ploy of bringing on attacking players later in the match to defend by taking the game to their opponents. By the end, Welbeck, Rooney, Valencia and Van Persie were all on display. If he had done his homework, he would know Spurs don’t like being restricted. These substitutions opened up the space just at the moment we were upping our pressure. It was a mistake.

It was suggested by someone close to me who I’m sure only had my welfare at heart, that the advice from the police not to travel

It's on!

It’s on!

unless absolutely necessary was less of a public service announcement and more a direct and personal instruction for me. But I had decided so was compelled to go, albeit with a workaround of my own to drive 50 miles on main roads only. Hearing that the game could be called off reminded me of the futility of it all. All that way, for nothing. These days there is no way of taking an educated guess as to the state of the ground. In the old days it was about frozen pitches, shovelling snow and orange balls but now it’s all technology, undersoil heating and part grass part plastic pitches. So on we drove, without frankly a second thought.

I969 or 1970, my mum had promised to take me to Spurs versus Leeds. It snowed. I rang the Supporters Club. At 1pm it was on, the only match in London to take place. I suspect my dear old mum was hoping it would be called off, but she had promised and I was determined, so eventually by bus, tube and bus again, in the freezing cold, we made it. 40 plus years on, I’m still the same, the boy’s heart still beats faster when it comes to being there, with this as with nothing else I am determined. It would have been enough just to see the game, but Clint, my man, a special thanks for being there too.

Redknapp Wins the Tactical Battle As Dreary Spurs Draw

Harry Redknapp was always a kidder. Not interested in tactics, just go out and play, enjoy yourselves lads. Do me a favour. He came out on top in the tactical battle at Loftus Road yesterday, his QPR team retreating deep into their own half to restrict the space and deny Spurs the room to play. Dull but effective. Confronted with this problem, our feeble solutions  were as effective as a Deal Or No Deal contestant who finds themselves in an episode of Mastermind by mistake.

It began well. Cesar reached up into the top righthand corner to tip Defoe’s goalbound 20 yarder onto the post, then Adebayor was fatally tentative from the rebound and the Brazilian saved again. It was as if the team shrugged collectively, said to themselves, ‘oh well, not our day’, and went through the motions for the remainder of the 90 minutes.

Redknapp’s strikerless side smothered our passing game at source. So effective was this, we were treated as early as the 35th minute to the unedifying spectacle of Dawson shooting from 35 yards. That’s how lousy our attacking efforts were today. Buses can get closer to the target than that effort.

This past week Redknapp demonstrated once again why Spurs fans have appreciated what he’s done for the team but never taken him to our hearts. A sly dig at any Chelsea manager who couldn’t come up with goods was followed by dark hints of high-level political conspiracies to remove him as Spurs boss. Then classic Harry – in the same breath as he praises Levy for being a decent bloke and calling him to wish him luck at Rangers, he makes fun of his former chairman’s transfer policy. He may have a point but there’s no sense that anything bad is ever his responsibility, at Tottenham or elsewhere. Underneath this good ol’ Uncle ‘arry schtick lies resentment and bitterness. Other managers can sidestep these questions, Redknapp can’t resist it.

At the close his extended chat with Villas Boas was presumably to reassure him that it was nothing personal. Too late. I adored some of his football and reaching the CL quarter finals from being bottom of the league is enough to rank him as a top Spurs manager. Harry, let your achievements speak for themselves, they will always sound more eloquent than you and now you’re gone, let us get on with it.

Adebayor did not repay his manager’s faith in him. Starting up front, he offered nothing. It was easy for QPR to isolate him from Defoe and the rest of his team-mates, and he has the air of a striker who knows he is out of form, waiting for the ball instead of attacking it and wanting always to take the extra touch. When he returns, he will have to work hard to dispel the thought that when City and Ars***l fans warned us that he’s a one-season wonder, they might have been correct.

A great pity as Rangers central defence is vulnerable. However they were well protected as Redknapp threw a midfield defensive blanket over Spurs. We never once got the pass and move going. QPR made the most of their limited ambitions – to be positive it’s a compliment to our status in the game currently that they feared us to the point where players and fans alike reckon a home draw against us is a cause for celebration. However, we did precious little to unsettle them. Dembele was anonymous, while Lennon and Bale were not allowed to get up a head of steam. Only Parker provided occasional bursts into danger areas which committed defenders but we made nothing of the gaps that thus appeared.

We could have done more on the wings but never established combinations between the wide men and the full-backs, never created two against ones. This was compounded by Lennon spending much of the second half on the left, which meant that we had two right-footers out there. They turned inside where Rangers gratefully gobbled them up, rather than seeking the space by the touchlines. Also, Bale’s wandering was unpredictable for the defenders but for his team-mates too. They did not know where to find him.

Spurs have made fantastic progress in a short time under Villas Boas but we don’t have the patience, wit and invention to break down a packed, well-drilled defence. The evidence is there from Stoke, Wigan and now at Loftus Road yesterday. We have to pass, make the runs and try to draw them out. Easier said than done but the League will take notice, that this is how to play us. Launching long balls from midway through the first half onwards is raising the white flag. Back to his tactics charts for our Andre.

I kept waiting for things to improve and we perked up a bit after half-time, then gradually it dawned that we were getting nothing from this one. At least we didn’t fall for any sucker punch counter, although we were helped in that respect by Wright-Phillips ability to fall over when he’s faced with a shooting chance.

We carried on, not supporting the man on the ball, who turned into his marker and was tackled, again and again. Dempsey’s overdue arrival might have sparked something but by then, we had forgotten how to pass. At least the time passed fairly quickly to the final whistle.

What Tottenham Hotspur Means To Me – Martin Cloake

No match report from the 3-0 cup win against Coventry. I missed this game and can’t concoct a report from 29 seconds of ITV highlights. Instead, the second in a series of articles about what it means to be a Spurs fan. Martin Cloake is a journalist and prolific author of books about Tottenham Hotspur.

In an age where football is examined from every conceivable angle and dissected to the point of extinction, the modern game is in danger of becoming flatulent and predictable, in the process alienating many existing and potential supporters. Yet talking Tottenham with Martin Cloake is a search for something deeper that forms the essence of his relationship with the club. In the process, it’s reassuring to know that whatever it was that originally captivated and entranced us is still around.

Already in this short series, one theme stands out above all else. Whichever route we take, when it comes to Spurs, there’s magic in the air. However, for Martin it could have been so very different. He was brought up in Haringey so Spurs seem a natural choice. In the absence of any existing family allegiances, what else would you do as a football-mad 6-year-old but ask your mum.

“I asked her who’s the nearest team, she said ‘I think it’s Arsenal’ so I thought I’d be an Arsenal fan.”

Then fate stepped in. Martin continues, “That Saturday, they lost. I thought that was a bit rubbish so then, Queens Park Rangers, that’s quite a good name so I’m a Rangers fan. They lost too, so that’s not good. I knew Tottenham were in the other bit of Haringey ( I lived in the west), thought I’d be a Tottenham fan, they won and that was that.”

Martin chuckles at the inescapable conclusion: “I was a total glory-hunting so and so at 6 years old.”

It sounds as if even then he was a bit of an obsessive, which means in this blog he’s among friends. As he read more and more, he realised he had chosen a special team.

“When I started finding out about Spurs, there was this magic about them. That was before I’d even been to the ground.  Pat Jennings was larger than life, a superhero. We had the Mirror every day in our house, I’d read Ken Jones and Frank McGhee. I was 7 in ’72. Nicholson was still there, I didn’t really understand but knew he was something special.”

Even then, Europe had a particular fascination.  “I looked up places where we were playing in the atlas. That was special. The Spurs blog 87Arsenal weren’t doing that! I listened to the ’72 and ’74 finals on the radio.”

For many of us, football provides a rich seam of continuity in our lives. It’s certainly true in my case, where Spurs is the link between the boy and the man. Relationships, jobs, houses and friendships come and go but Spurs is always there. Martin continues to search for more of that magic he discovered as a 6-year-old,and it’s still there in those European nights, which are an integral part of Tottenham’s rich heritage. That search is the heart of the Martin’s latest book, the Glory Glory Nights, co-written with long time collaborator Adam Powley.

“It was part of the reason for doing the book, to rediscover the magic. When I was a kid, there was that bit of magic, where’s Zagreb, where’s Belgrade. It was a pioneering time. That Double team had done something nobody else had done before. They went into Europe. They were the standard bearers for the English game.”

Spurs were full of firsts in Europe, the first to win a European trophy, the first to win two, the first to fly fans to an away tie. However, these days european football is commonplace, with every tie on television and many relegating the Europa League, the latest incarnation of the Cup Winners Cup and UEFA Cup where that Spurs glory lies, to the status of a worthless league for our second string. So has the magic gone?

“It was a different age, that’s true. People going up Everest, into space, running the 4 minute mile. Nicholson, Busby and a few other visionary managers had to fight against the football authorities to be allowed to compete in Europe! Inevitably things can’t stay new forever so some of that has been lost. Familiarity breeds contempt.”

This is no rose-tinted nostalgia trip to bygone, better times. Martin is quick to emphasise that history is still being written. The run to the quarter finals of the Champions League was remarkable because it was so unexpected. He went to all the games that year bar the away leg against Young Boys.

“The Champions League was new for Spurs. The magic was back. We saw some great games of football and surprised our own supporters as well. Yes, the familiarity, the marketing, the over-analysis means the magic has gone from a lot of football but when it comes down to 11 versus 11, those glory glory nights aren’t clichés. When it works, like Bale destroying that team [Inter in the San Siro], that’s what you go for. I’ve never seen Spurs supporters go quite as mental. Nothing surprises you in football these days, but that did.”

The Glory Glory Nights, reviewed here, allows the story of Spurs in Europe to unfold by using those self-same contemporary newspaper reports that fascinated Martin as a boy, plus excellent photos, some of which have not been published before, ably chosen by art director Doug Cheesman to complement and enhance the mood. The sections on the sixties and seventies are eerily atmospheric. The text sets everything in an historical perspective without breaking up the flow and access to interviews from Chivers, Beal and others not only gives the players’ insights but proves that Europe was very special for them too. No other team can tell this story.

Martin’s first game was towards the end of the 1978 season, a 1-0 win over Bolton Wanderers at the top of the old Second Division. “54th minute diving header from Don McAllister. 52,500, schoolboys’ enclosure West Stand.” Martin recalls the details with boyish enthusiasm. “Hairs standing up on the back of my neck seeing the camber of the pitch, getting in for 50p. Spurs had gone down and we had to get behind them to get them back up again.”

He continued to go to home games but drifted away in the 80s when he had a Saturday job and discovered girls and music. He picked it up again later in the decade when he started going regularly with a group of mates who went to a lot of away games. Football remains a social activity. and he’s irrevocably committed now.

“I had to admit to myself years ago that I’m a bit stupid when it comes to football.” He mimics an AA meeting. “My name is Martin Cloake and I’m a Spurs fan! It would take a lot for me to give up my season ticket. That’s what I do, I go and watch Spurs, and I spend far too much time, money and effort on all things to do with Spurs. I’ve done the same as every Spurs fan. Another bad season, that’s it, I’m not renewing, but I know I will always go.”

I pause to remind myself this is not me talking but someone else, such is the similarity of our feelings for the club. This craziness, it’s our reality, but at least this is about as far as it goes for Martin because he’s never done anything too ridiculous in the name of Spurs, apart from a day trip to Austria for an early round in Europe. I wondered if he enjoys it more now or in the past.

“Hmm, not sure. It feels like I enjoyed it more then but I still enjoy it now. I miss some of the edge. It was like in those days you went to gigs, it was overcrowded and there was no fire exit but it was part of being a kid. I got streetwise going to football. It shapes who I am. Some of my best friends, I’ve known over 30 years, been to their weddings, know their kids, that friendship began because we supported the same team. Some of the best times of my life have been going to football.”

Those friendships sustained him through dour times under Sugar and particularly under Graham where going to Spurs became a great day out spoilt by the football. “It wasn’t the fact he was an ex-gooner. We were not investing in the team and going nowhere. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, there wasn’t even a tunnel.”

“One thing I don’t like now is all the arranging, planning in advance. It’s annoying that some spontaneity and anarchy is missing, but there are great times when the ground still bounces. There’s a change in the crowd this year. I never want to be an old git moaning about how things were better in the old days, but something’s around. I like what the 1882 lads are doing, good to see a different generation finding out about the same things.”

Time for some choices. Hoddle or Roberts? Martin is reluctant to plump for one or the other. “I love Roberts’ spirit but Hoddle was the best player I ever saw live, a god to me when I was a kid. Roberts, you couldn’t wish for a more committed captain.”

His favourite Roberts’ story takes up the tale after Robbo put Charlie in the stand. “To let them know he was there, he kept sliding and ended up near the Arsenal bench. Peter Storey asked him if he was all right. Roberts said, yes, then Storey belted him in the eye and said, ‘Well, you’re not f**king all right now.”

Gascoigne is the other player that makes Martin wax lyrical. ” I would just watch him, he was so much better than anyone else. With the Hoddle team you had Ardiles too.” Modric and Berbatov are the more recent players singled out for praise.

And the scenario.  Under manager Tony Pulis and backed by Russian squillions, our long-ball, muscular game will win the league. Alternatively, we play great football the Spurs way, are contenders for the top 6, maybe more, but there’s no guarantee of winning anything. The club’s fate is in your hands. Martin deliberates carefully.

“Well, there’s something wrong about celebrating a 4th place finish but I guess I would have a duty to the club to get a top four place. We could go for the league playing the Spurs way but part of that is that we will find some of screwing it up. With a gun to my head, it’s Pulis and win the league.” He shudders. “I feel a bit dirty now….”

I can’t leave such a warm and generous interviewee on the horns of that dilemma for a moment longer. Time to move on and end with some great memories:

“Perryman, he was one of us, Labour voter, a suedehead….Chivers was a big hero, a goalscoring giant….i was terrible at getting up in the morning and I remember my mum shouted the news up the stairs, Spurs had bought two Argentinians. I strutted into school, Spurs have got two World Cup winners, what have you got!?…I bunked off school to go to Highbury for the cup semifinal in 81, one of my favourite Spurs games, Archibald and Crooks were brilliant, then I queued up all night for the final replay, the greatest final of the 20th century and saw Ricky score the greatest goal in a cup final in the 20th century, you’ve got me now, that’s where the drug started…”

It’s more important than ever in changing times to hold on to our heritage. The debate over our new ground brought this debate to fever pitch. Martin can see both sides but is clear where he stands.

“Look, I buy into the idea but know Spurs is not of its place any more in the sense that people round there don’t go to games, largely because it’s not a well-off area and they can’t afford it. It’s a little like us imposing our memories, creating our own heritage theme park when we go back there. But I’m glad that if the new stadium ever gets built, it will be close to the same stands where ‘glory glory hallelujah’ first rolled out. It was in that same patch of ground. I don’t know if the club realises the mistake it would have made if they had moved [to Stratford]. The magic and the connection the Spurs crowd has with the game is part of knowing that this is where its gone on for all that time. You are in the same stands watching the same pitch where Blanchflower, Mackay, Jimmy Dimmock played. How far do you want to go back?”

Amen to that.

The Glory Glory Nights by Martin Cloake and Adam Powley is published by Vision Sports