Fears of a Villa backlash after the Chel**a defeat were quickly dispelled as Tottenham Hotspur imposed themselves on the game and established the pattern of dominance that lasted almost as long as that of the Roman Empire. This was less a victory, more a rampaging conquest – we were so much on top, the Brummies left the ground speaking with cockney accents.

The first half gave Spurs territorial superiority with nothing to show for it, bar the fact that Walker can’t take corners. In the second, we upped the tempo. When we get one, we’ll get more, and Gareth Bale tore the Villa defence apart with a hat-trick. As emphatic an away victory as Spurs will ever get in the Premier League. It could have been more, and the only talking point from the match is which was the best goal.

Poor Villa. I’d say this was the most one-sided game that I’ve ever seen in the Prem except I saw them play Chelsea on Sunday. Manager Paul Lambert has been given the opportunity to build rather than buy a team but some of the players on show yesterday are so far from the first team, he probably used this week’s training sessions to get to know their names never mind where they played. If ever there was a lesson that modern football is a squad game, their experiences this week are it. Without intruding on private grief, all I’d say is that he had enough problems with finding a team after a series of injuries without making them play in an unfamiliar formation. The double whammy of young men playing 3-5-2 or yesterday with only one striker was far too much. They were all over the place until they came out with an enforced 4-5-1 at the start of the second half when they briefly improved.

I half-expected Villa to come at us out of the traps. Instead, they were more like the stuffed hare. Spurs notched up a first half corner count of 15 to 1 (good title for a gameshow, that) and had 11 shots on target without reply. Bale was always dangerous on the left and we fed him regularly because we had so much possession. Villa keeper Guzan was ironically their best player, saving well from Bale and Defoe.

However, Spurs weren’t completely convincing. Once again there was no drive from Sandro and both Dembele and Adebayor were anonymous throughout. The link-up play between JD and Manu was poor for the third game in a row. Walker did well. Given a free role a little like Bale’s, he used his freedom to come off his wing to good effect, relishing the chance to be temporarily freed from his defensive duties. Good tactics from Villas-Boas.

But this is Spurs, and come, we’re among friends here, when Villa played a bit after half-time, you had that lingering doubt that all that possession would be wasted? Am I right? Ironically the goal that opened the floodgates was on the counter after Villa’s best attacking move. The attack seemed to have lost momentum in the left corner when Naughton’s through ball, perfect in every way, let Defoe in for a right-foot finish.

The second soon followed, again started from deep by another simple, effective pass, this time from Lennon, as Bale rampaged into the wide open spaces of the Villa half. He took it calmly round the keeper to finish with the touch of a master striker. Except this guy used to be a full-back.

Parker was on now, the right substitution to snuff out any doubts at the back and keep Spurs busy. One touch to control the ball, the second to pass it on. That’s the way to play. You can’t make too many long-term judgments from a match like this where we had so much space but Parker’s arrival upped the tempo and eased everyone into the quick pass and move that suits us so well.

Lennon had another good game as part of the supporting cast. This is best season for us. He set up the third, releasing the ball at just the right moment for Bale to tuck the ball away from the heart of the box. He scored his hat-trick from the same spot, putting a Siggy pass to the keeper’s left this time. Please don’t take Bale for granted. He’s a world-class talent. I’ve not seen his like since I began watching football in the sixties.

Finally, a word of praise for William Gallas. Not his most taxing afternoon but he did not put a foot wrong, defending on his own during a little wobble when we played the well-known Christmas parlour game – in a space roughly 60 yards by 30, how far apart can 4 defenders stand? Ever-watchful and reassuring.

A cliche but in my case it’s real so what the hell – all I wanted for Christmas was 3 three points (well, and a turntable for my vinyl but that doesn’t fit so neatly). We came, we saw, we conquered. Lovely stuff.

 

The dreary combination of Stoke’s lack of ambition and a lacklustre Spurs side drained the life from this sullen and joyless match. By the time the referee mercifully ended proceedings, the bright opening period was long since forgotten. Dodging the downpours and puddles on the way home seemed by far the most reasonable option.

Stoke arrived with a reputation and a glint in their eye. They clearly feel that Spurs don’t like it up ’em. We played the right team, Dawson back with Vertonghen on the left so plenty of height at the back with the Beast to add more protection. Yet we never really got going. In the first few minutes, Walker under no pressure passed the ball across his box straight to Jones who blazed over. We thought things can only get better but in fact that sums up the entire game. Like Walker, several Spurs players were diffident and distracted, having a peripheral influence only.

The referee added to the disjointed pattern. Booking Sandro and Vertonghen for high feet seemed harsh, then Whelan, the ‘victim’ on both occasions turned the clock back 30 years with a cynical, deliberately late challenge with nothing but retribution on his mind. No card. Meanwhile the keeper broke down the act of taking a goal-kick into 367 separate movements, all of which had to be executed, in order, before the kicking the ball. Aggravating though it was, their reputation preceded them. At one point the crowd barracked the ref with ‘you don’t know what you’re doing’ when he’d given us a free-kick.

Anyway, none of this should obscure the lack of creativity and passion in Spurs performance. Sometimes you realise the true value of players when they are absent or have a poor day. Yesterday, Sandro’s drive and power was largely absent. It left a hole in the centre when we moved forward. Our attacking moves dissolved into isolated runs from individuals and we never established that high tempo which characterises our best work.

Dembele’s firm, angled passes were several times on the point of fashioning a chance but Stoke’s blanket defence stifled our efforts and the Belgian faded from the game as he has done since his return to the side. Adebayor didn’t think or work hard enough, while Defoe picked up the mood of the game and returned to his blast ’em from long range mentality. Both should have done more to work the back four.

Watching Spurs, I like to seek understanding even if inner peace is beyond any Tottenham fan but for the life of me I don’t get why Lennon and Bale swopped wings for almost the entire second half. Maybe it was because Bale slaughtered their left back, Wilkinson, a couple of years ago. Rather than creating width, they continually came inside which compressed the play, playing right into Stoke’s hands. It wasn’t as if Walker was moving into the space Bale enables in this way. Lennon faired better, running with the ball searching for a gap but usually the runs ran out of steam. Bale was relatively quiet but still set up a few chances from crosses in the first half and headed over at the far post in the second. His leg had so much multi-coloured strapping under his shorts, it looked like a squirt of SR toothpaste. He was feeling his way back into things.

Belatedly AVB realised that we needed to pep things up. Siggy came on and duly obliged. If we are trying the answer the question posed earlier this season of what exactly he does, for the moment this is it, to raise the tempo and/or defend from the front if we are ahead. He nearly won it with our best chance, a fine header that the keeper saved superbly low to his right. It was a thrilling flash of brilliance that faded as swiftly as it began, totally out of keeping with the rest of the game. Parker was on too – he could see it, dashing around like a mad thing at a corner. Pointless bringing him on to do this with 5 minutes to go. He might start at Villa – he’s ready to go.

While the thwack of Stoke boot on ball is still ringing in my ears, the fact is that they were quick on the counter and missed good chances, the best bringing a fine save from Lloris after the ball took a slight deflection from Caulker from close in. Also, we played into their hands and by the end were knocking it forward too, as we all drifted forward when we should have been moving around to shift their defenders out of position. Without width or guile, we made it easier for them to stay put in formation.

We are still there in the pack that’s bubbling under and we need to pass judgement only after the Christmas programme is over. Yesterday we forgot what makes us good. Pass and move, pass and move. We should know better by now.

 

The first in a new series of interviews with Spurs fans to find out what it means to be a Spurs fan. Julie Welch is an author, journalist and screenwriter. 

Julie Welch is not merely a lifelong Spurs fan, she recently became the club’s biographer. It’s clear from first page to last that “The Biography of Tottenham Hotspur” is a labour of love that with honesty and deep affection defines the very character of the club. The process uncovered the essence of not only what it means to be a Spurs fan but also that this is one club that stands for something more fundamental that the immediate pursuit of trophies or profit, and that we fans are part of a proud heritage that stretches back to Victorian times and the founding of the club under a lamppost not far from White Hart Lane.

“I wanted to treat Tottenham as a person or a personality. It’s hard to apply the word ‘artistic’ to football but it fits Spurs. It’s a club you associate with excitement and glamour. It’s prepared to take risks or at least it was in the past. Also, it’s a club that doesn’t forget its roots. Just think how awful it would be if we were owned by Roman Abramovich, there is so much solidity about Spurs because it has so much history.”

In the book, fans line up to pay tribute to the Spurs Way, thrilling, flowing attacking football that prizes creativity and passing rather than hoof and brawn. Julie articulates this culture and philosophy with dexterity and in the gentle telling makes it tangible and bold, something to cherish and nurture.  It’s one thing for the fans to appreciate this but it’s surprising how former managers and players past and present recognise exactly the same phenomenon. Julie describes how Gareth Bale is moved by the pictures of the former greats he sees every day at the training ground, but it’s perhaps best summed up by the rueful comments from Gerry Francis,  “In most clubs winning is what it’s all about, and people are happy with that, but at Tottenham you have to win with style as well.” He failed to deliver in either respect.

The continuity over the years is remarkable, given that Spurs are 130 years old and still going strong.

“What I hoped would come across was that kind of continuity that we do pass on, that Spurs doesn’t die. The club itself will always be the club.” Even if we move grounds? Julie pauses to think this over carefully.

“I don’t feel emotional about the fabric of the buildings because to me the real White Hart Lane was before Irving Scholar, who pulled down my West Stand which was one of my favourite places. I wrote a column in the Observer about it. I was so gutted it went. It’s not sentimentality, just that reckless over-spending. “

Now this most charming and accommodating of interviewees is gazing into the middle distance with fire in her eyes at the indignity perpetrated upon her precious club. She’s visibly bewildered and upset. “I can remember really feeling that Tottenham was going to be shut down at one stage. The whole Irving Scholar thing, I regard that era with such distaste.”

Reading the biography reminded me of the numbing awfulness of those seemingly endless so-called transitional seasons from the mid eighties onwards where mid-table mediocrity became something to aspire to.  Disappointed but philosophical about the many managers who have let us down in recent times, like most long-suffering Spurs fans Julie is able to bounce back.

“There were so many mistakes made in that period and that’s the bit that I’ve found most depressing to write. Each carefree new chapter I started, there was a new manager. The new manager turned out to be just as bad as the last and it was hard to put your finger on it why it went wrong.”

It’s the chairmen who bear the brunt of her resentment, a moral outrage born of the right values that people could not put the club’s interests first. Lord Sugar, who appointed many of our failed managers, look away now: ” Sugar saved the club financially but had absolutely no idea. He was not attuned to the club and I think there was a sort of crassness about everything. He wasn’t a football man.”

After Spurs success in the early eighties, Julie’s first love went sour for a time: “I was kind of off Spurs when Keith Burkinshaw walked away. It seems to have been such a travesty of what the club was and what it stood for.”

“At least Daniel Levy does get Tottenham.You know under the present setup Tottenham isn’t going to go broke. We may not be able to afford the best players and we may have a bolted down wage structure but the clubs finances are safe.”

That theme of continuity runs throughout. History provides the basis for those myths and legends that help us tell our tale and understand what we believe about our team, but also there’s a pragmatism. This is who we are and to succeed, we must remain true to ourselves. We defy our history at our peril.

Another feature of our character is that we have so many firsts to our name. The first to win the Double,  to win a European trophy, to fly fans to an away European game, the first to become a PLC, to take the risk and sign Ardiles and Villa. Julie is herself a pioneer, becoming the first woman football writer in Fleet Street to receive a byline above her reports. With throwaway modesty, she maintains she fell into sports writing only because she was a failure at her proper job, a secretary on the Observer sports desk. Her knack of finding the emotional heart of the game stems from her enduring passion for Tottenham Hotspur. She wrote the feature film Those Glory Glory Days about three girls who become obsessed with the Double side, based on her own experiences.

“It’s a complete accident that I became a Spurs supporter. The school I went to embraced a part of the London jewish community and the daughters of these families brought me into Spurs. It’s hard to explain but there’s a real flavour about Spurs that you don’t get with other clubs. I could identify with Spurs, they were exciting and glorious.”

Spend any time with Julie and there’s no need to ask who her favourite player is.

“I loved Spurs for the fact that they could accommodate the genius that is Danny Blanchflower. Spurs can accommodate independent-minded, intellectual players like Blanchflower who can do other things. Spurs is a club for the one-offs. That’s what attracted me to Spurs in the first place. With us, he could emerge in his true glory.”

Julie also returns frequently to the Bill Nicholson for his achievements and as a touchstone for what Spurs has become and can be in the future.

“I love the Bill Nicholson story. It’s so resonant of biblical myth – the hardship, the struggle, the glory, some failure, then exile followed by redemption.”

Here’s that look again. “I still feel absolutely gutted he was never given a knighthood. I’m so angry I can’t begin to tell you. You know what happened – Tony Blair came to power and they wanted to be associated with football but they knew nothing about it. Ferguson, Shankly, Bobby Robson was a lovely man who did our family so many kindnesses but in terms of achievement it does not begin to measure up against what Bill Nick achieved.” She pauses. “It’s the lack of care that makes me angry. Mind you, knowing Bill he would not have given a toss. He would have regarded it as an honour for Tottenham Hotspur and his team.”

Another great memory was the 1981 Cup Final and Ricky Villa’s goal. “I can still see it in my mind’s eye. More disbelief than surprise in the way he kept going. It really sums up Spurs, that team  that manager and of course I loved Crooks and Archibald. I interviewed Crooks, lovely man.”

Coming up to date, Modric and Berbatov have caught the eye. She interviewed Bale and Dawson for the book. Both are pleasant, intelligent and fully embrace the Spurs identity. On the day of the interview, Dawson could have gone to QPR but he still made time for her, “what a decent man.”

Julie is full of praise for Bale:  “He’s a great player, could be captain one day, he has that quality. Like John White he’s a one-off, like Dave Mackay and Cliff Jones all the really great players are in a category of their own.”

Of the others, she picked out Caulker and Lloris as promising while the beast that is Sandro has the stuff of myth and legend about him.

By now any pretence of an interview had long since dissolved as the endless fascination of talking Tottenham in such engaging company held sway. Julie’s a fan, sure, but more than that, she’s unashamedly in love: “There’s a physical and romantic attraction. There’s something very mysterious about what draws you to a club, a parallel between falling in love and the club you find yourself with. It’s never a conscious choice.” And once you’re hooked, you can’t let go.

“To me the pitch is sacred, not the same patch of grass by any means but there’s something about it. We all came together over the years for more than a century to that little bowl of land. It contains all our hopes, dreams, fears and uncertainties. It is hallowed ground because it contains so much of our humanity. And Bill and Darkie’s ashes are under the pitch. I will get so emotional when they dig it up.”

We could still be talking but I had to get back to work, so one last question.  Two scenarios: a Russian billionaire oligarch appoints Tony Pulis as manager and his long-ball, muscular side are certain to win the League. Or, we have a team that plays the Spurs way but is vulnerable, we are top 6 material with a possibility of doing better. The destiny of the club is your hands – which would you choose?

Julie’s expression gave the answer before option one had been outlined. “Oh dear, you’ve made me feel poorly at the very thought of it. I shan’t sleep tonight. What a nightmare.” For Julie Welch, the Spurs Way is the only way.

 

Julie and Rob White have written a superb book about John White, The Ghost of White Hart Lane, interviews and reviews here and here.