The lasting effects of this horrible slaughter could reverberate down the years. Not because of the score – we’ve shipped five against them before and we’ll do so again in my lifetime. Not even because the top two have left us far behind in their wake. No, it’s because after this, how we can trust our Spurs again?

Just as they lull you into some sense of security, the defence disintegrates. Media and fans alike are drooling over our attacking play but lately it’s been the low number of goals against that has really put us up there with the contenders. Last week we played poorly but did not concede, and so it was yesterday. Two goals, one a deflection, the other a dodgy penalty, then our opponents kindly miss or hit the post when well placed. We’re on to something here. At the beginning.

The people who sit behind me at the Lane are long-term fans and good company. Like many of us, they do this thing near full-time, practised comedians performing their schtick. Six up with only 5 minutes to go? Can’t possibly relax. Injury time? Do me a favour, anything could happen. Referee puts his whistle  to his lips – maybe, just now, I could start to think about enjoying the game… I’m with you, Mark, every time. That’s me. Never take anything for granted. Worry about each and every permutation as the ball gets near our box. Except recently I’ve realised that without me consciously altering my attitude,  I feel different. I’m not seeing catastrophe on the end of every aimless long ball or skidding shot.

But I tell you now, that’s over. I miss it already. Even went so far as to say I enjoyed Spurs matches, as opposed to enjoying the victory. Gone now, consigned to the dustbin of memory. From now on, for the rest of the season, back to the gutwrenching stomach-churning carnival that is me and Spurs. The trust has gone.

The build-up to this match was supremely tense even by the standards of the North London derby. This one mattered because it a win would set the seal on our supremacy, what I called when we won at the Lane a seismic shift in the balance of power. Two places but ten vital, gigantic, enormous points ahead, the win would mean it was real, we wouldn’t have to wait until the end of the season for the reckoning. On the morning of the game I felt so sick, I didn’t eat anything, and for a portly chap such as myself, that’s the longest I’ve been without food since that virus 20 years ago. That’s how much it meant.

As you’ll gather, I didn’t feel any better afterwards, although my chosen coping mechanism became not starvation but comfort eating. A shovel of roast potatoes and there’s still plenty of room for trifle. The whole trifle. I can’t put it off any longer. Without the benefit of any replays, as being the mature individual I am, I’ve turned off all the subsequent sports programmes and deleted ESPN goals from the phone, here goes.

This disaster was created by two related factors: a gross tactical miscalculation and a shoddy attitude from the players. The latter could have been caused by the former – the players looked totally bewildered for much of the game. My problem is, the tactics can be rectified but what has this defeat done for morale? Long-term is what interests me, between now and the end of the season. In the same way that the reds of north London were rejuvenated by just two goals in 5 minutes or the reds of Liverpool by a single missed penalty, this sort of battering can cause hidden damage. Like bindweed, the seeds of doubt could throttle the growth of healthy robust football.

We won’t know until the going gets tough, until we go a goal down and have to fight back. For much of the second half, it felt like everything we’ve achieved this season had gone right out the window, to the point where I barely recognised our players. You’re not seriously telling me that was the impeccable Scott Parker not closing down the cross for the first goal then getting himself sent off with a ridiculously impetuous tackle? Our Scott Parker, come on…

Redknapp has to accept much of the blame. I admire his attacking instincts and playing two up front could have put pressure on their shaky back four. However, it’s not if we have to have two up front in order to attack and score goals. Rafa clearly wasn’t quite fit but an extra midfielder or Defoe shuttling between Adebayor and the midfield would have been far more effective. Compounding the gaffe was the choice of Kranjcar in midfield. He doesn’t work hard enough at the best of times but in a four playing against their five, he’s a liability.

Then there’s Bale. If he stayed wide left, he would not only have been an effective attacking force but also he would have occupied Walcott and Sagna. As it was, the two of them had free rein, lining up to pressure the exposed Assou Ekotto. Our players had no idea where Bale would pop up so they seldom got the ball to him. Not that Bale knew what he was doing. He’s a superb player but not the brightest on the pitch when it comes to positional nouse. He needs firmer guidance than he received yesterday.

Wenger lapped it up. After the opening quarter, he completely won the battle between the managers. His average midfield could not believe the time and space they had. With Bale and Niko drifting forward, that’s four men committed upfield when our opponents got possession. Two of their goals originated several touches before the killer pass to set up the chance, when we naively sold ourselves in midfield and there was no back-up so we were stretched. We’re two up, away, in the Premier League, against a five man midfield. The formation was madness and we were punished.

The arrival of Sandro and Van der Vaart at half time gave the side a shape that they might have started with. However, neither were fit. Poor Sandro was desperate to impress but a yard off the pace. Rafa disappeared. Even then, with no change to Bale’s role we stayed narrow and gave Walcott the freedom of the right side of the park. They couldn’t believe their luck.

I’ve pointed the finger at Redknapp, who looked unwell on the bench. However, when Dawson came on, even before he’d put on the armband the camera caught him bellowing at Sandro. I thought he told him in no uncertain terms to stay back in front of the back four. Too late by then but I wonder if Harry’s expression was rage not sulk because his players had disobeyed orders. Clearly Sandro was too far forward too often but I suspect Bale and Niko were on the end of a mouthful too.

Enough now. I’d rather concede 5 goals than not have 7 points in hand but I don’t accept the club’s’ reaction that this was a ‘bad day in the office.’ I had a bad day in the office last Wednesday. All I did was eat too many biscuits, get a headache and work a bit late. I didn’t crash and burn in a tangle of flaming wreckage. I wish we could play right now to generate new memories and begin the answer my query about the consequences for the rest of the season.

No solace or distraction to be found in escapism either. Later, in the car, the MP3 is on random. First song up, ‘Every Little Bit Hurts’, a 60s soul belter by Peggy Scott. Why yah hurt me, baby? Even plastic and transistors have it in for me. Here’s a link, click and let’s relive my misery together.

He’s taken us ten points clear of the rest, laid hands on the lame and made them score, and thwarted the combined might of the taxman and the Crown Prosecution Service. Yesterday, he couldn’t resist the impulse to fiddle around with the formation, and it didn’t come off. After all that, Harry’s only human. Where Blair, Cameron and so many others have failed, he’s succeeded in uniting the nation. Perhaps this was a subtle hint that he shouldn’t be appointed. England teams underperform in tournaments, it’s what they do, isn’t it?

Stevenage are determined, gutsy and robust but in changing the tried and tested formation, we paid them far too much respect. 3-5-2 has its temptations. If anyone can make it work, we can. All our full-backs are fast and fit to get up and back again plus offering attacking options, centre backs with some experience to sort out the positioning and it gives us two up front to make the most of the chances that will surely come their way because of the creativity in the side. Out of fashion for many years, it’s made a comeback of sorts. Not so much 5 sell-out nights at the Albert Hall, more a tour of the provinces, but it’s back. Liverpool have tried it a few times and we looked good when we were chasing a goal at Stoke earlier in the season.

3 big centre halves to out-muscle the big men on the end of Stevenage’s direct style and their lack of penetration down the flanks meant they didn’t threaten the big weakness of the system, the space out wide. Early on, as the ball wanged into our box from all angles, it was reassuring to have all those big guys around. The full-backs tucked in and Parker and especially Livermore picked up the pieces in and around the area.

Ultimately, however, it caused us more problems than it was worth. The unfamiliar set-up was disruptive. The full-backs are key in 3-5-2 and although Rose had a good first half coming forward, both he and Walker are not strong in terms of their positioning. Walker in particular was not sure whether he was a defender or midfielder and ended doing neither effectively.. Also, we fell foul of the fundamental weakness of the system: we were over-committed defensively in the centre. At times we had 5 men in defensive positions – 3 centre halves and two defensive midfielders – dealing with at most 2 of theirs. They really only pushed the midfield into danger areas at set pieces. If dead balls were a concern, then play Kaboul at full-back for this one with Dawson and Nelsen at centre-back.

As a result we were often outnumbered in midfield, especially as they worked admirably hard to close us down. We didn’t support the man on the ball nearly well enough until later when we made changes. The gap between the strikers and midfield was too great, so we resorted to unfamiliar and unfathomable long balls that nullified the advantages our skill and talent gives us normally. Granted we learned that Bale is no central midfielder. He was completely wasted. To repeat something I’ve noted several times this season, he’s great if he comes off the wing because of the precious unpredictability of his movement, but if he’s hanging around in the middle he’s easier to mark, same as everyone, and he can’t get up a head of steam.

Stevenage came at us early on but Dawson and Nelsen did enough although there were a few scares on the way. Their tactic was to give Cudicini some muscle and the referee wasn’t keen to protect him. These tactics depend on being first to the second ball and for the most part we were alert to the danger. Bodies in the way, a toe here and there.

With the ball, we did little. Parker seemed unsure until we pushed him further forward but this was by now well into the second half. Livermore was the pick in the first period, good movement and technique, he broke up attacks and kept the ball moving, at one point having the confidence to take the man and tell Parker where to drop back. However, neither of them could get us moving. No tempo or rhythm, couldn’t keep a passing movement going, static off the ball. The commentators were all about making it ugly: I didn’t think they meant us.

Rose had a decent first half and he was really the only player setting up any opportunities. As the game went on, his defensive shortcomings were evident as he failed to close down his man so they could launch more bombs into the box.

We changed things a little come the second half. In possession the back three spread wide and the spare man pushed into midfield. Kaboul’s run unsettled a previously untroubled defence. the two men could not be further apart in stature but we yearned for Lennon to take them on in the same way. Raising the tempo paid dividends with some combination moves and a scrappy effort from Saha (ironically we were the team that nearly profited from a loose ball in the box) was unluckily but rightly disallowed because it hit Parker on the line.

That momentum soon dissipated. Lennon looked bright but Niko, on to provide creativity, whacking the ball miles in the air on 80 minutes, summed it all up. Stevenage deserve a great deal of credit for their disciplined, energetic approach, particularly in defence where they brought men to the ball and crowded us out. Nelsen has no pace but used his experience to be first when Cudicini spilled a shot, Dawson did well to clear a dangerous cross but otherwise, without minimising their achievements, the fact is that despite ITV’s frantic efforts to crank up the giant killing, Stevenage’s increasingly sporadic second half efforts mostly consisted of long shots flying into the crowd behind the goal.

It’s odd and, to me, unexpected that we have looked so ill at ease at Watford and Stevenage. I really don’t want to talk it up but we have as good a chance as any in the Cup. On the evidence of these two away ties, we’re concentrating on the league. The team is best in certain patterns. We can accommodate a few personnel changes but not a significantly different formation. The run-in will be tough but the message is consistency. Opponents may know what to expect but I say bring them all on. Let’s match ourselves against the best and see what happens. We were poor yesterday but still in the Cup. Two winnable home games and it’s the semi-final. Only complacency can stop us.

On a brighter note, on Thursday I became an ultra. The Fighting Cock website corralled a bunch of us to support the youth team in the 5th round of the Youth Cup away to Charlton and give them a taste of what it was like to be a Spur. Over 300 fans took the locals by surprise and sung for the whole match. A good time was had by all, despite Charlton’s last minute winner, and the players really appreciated it. I’ll let you know if there are more events planned.

The public are comfortable with Harry Redknapp. His rumpled, down-to-earth persona  harks back to a bygone era before football became a commercial monster, evoking soft fuzzy Sunday evening television images of a time when society was less complicated and life was better. With Harry, like him or not, you know where you are.

At Spurs, however, he’s continually surprised. In this digital age when nothing is secret and everyone with a mobile phone and a Twitter account is a reporter, nothing shocks any more. Yet Redknapp’s appointment came out of the blue. A late-night messageboard post was shared then shredded with derision. The following morning, it happened. The manner of his possible departure was similarly utterly unpredictable. The mixture of gratitude and relief amongst Tottenham fans at the announcement of his acquittal turned in a few short hours to  horror at the prospect of his leaving for the England job.

The irony is that we are contemplating his departure precisely at the moment

Harry Redknapp Holds Court

when he is closer to the club and the supporters than ever before. My piece on the Wigan game focussed on this new-found intimacy. Adversity softened a relationship characterised by respect mingled with slight scepticism – I know a season-ticket holder who is refusing to go while Redknapp remains manager. Back to the wall, Redknapp’s sudden vulnerability overcame suspicions that despite his achievements on the pitch, his heart lay elsewhere. He is one of us and needed some help. It was not the flowing football, the Champions League or the top three that broke the ice. The taxman played matchmaker.

For the very first time there was sustained chanting of his name. Harry has seen and done it all but he’s not been here before. I said at the time that he deeply appreciated this gesture, which he confirmed yesterday on the steps of the court. He genuinely meant it, a hard man touched to the core, although he stopped himself as he was about to say that this was the best fan gratitude he’s ever had for fear of offending his admirers in Portsmouth and West Ham.

There can be no clearer way of expressing both our gratitude for what he’s done for Tottenham Hotspur and our desires for the future. However, even though the songs will no doubt rise to a crescendo come Saturday evening, they will be drowned out by the nationwide clamour of ‘Redknapp for England’.

I heard the news yesterday evening when my wife texted as I travelled home from London on the train. When I reached the car and switched on the radio, ‘Redknapp’ was the first word that I heard and judging by the procession of pundits lined up on 5 Live, that may as well have been the only word broadcast over the next hour. Pearce and Hodgson were the only two alternatives even mentioned and that was in passing, solely for the purpose of discounting their credentials. I turn on the radio this morning, it’s not who or if but when.

Seldom has there been such unanimity in the fractured, tribal world of football. Not only an Englishman for England, he’s worshipped by the media. Harry the turnip-head? It won’t happen. For what it’s worth, I would prefer an Englishman but not at the expense of quality. There are few if any managers with the experience and proven talent to take the job and even Redknapp never managed at the highest levels until the last 18 months. Prioritising a birth certificate over ability is a recipe for disaster.

Capello was unfairly treated by many sections of the media and public just because of what he wasn’t. However, I have no respect for him over his decision to back a captain accused of racism and put his own position above the needs of the country. For once the FA acted decisively and they were right to do so. I wholeheartedly support the ban but the FA made a rod for their own back by not banning him from the squad as well.

Redknapp Speaks: Rosie Could Do a Better Job Than Capello

I understand that Capello wants to be in charge – as a manager in a very different field, a charity, I do not expect my decisions to be over-ruled by our Trustees. However, I take into account the position of my seniors before I make my choices and Capello is foolish not to have done the same. Even if he weren’t consulted, he could have waited before committing himself in public. Blind to the wider context, England was set for him to take us to the Euros whether we liked him or not and pulling out now because his personal pride has been affronted discounts his responsibility to the nation. He’s put himself first.

Terry is a tarnished figure. No one cares about him aside from Chelsea fans and Capello, who should have shown better judgement in his choice of captain. Innocent until proven guilty has got nothing to do with it. There’s enough evidence even for the notoriously cautious CPS to charge him and any of us in the same boat would have been suspended from our jobs, regardless of that principle. If you’re going to choose someone with whom you wish to make a stand, have better judgement than to opt for a man who’s pursued a team-mate’s wife and stands accused of racism. Ignore it, do what your bosses say, keep quiet, support the man but don’t make him captain, an. y option would have been preferable and more obvious than the one Capello chose.

Let’s not forget who the real villains are. Chelsea’s justification for a postponement of the final hearing, that key witnesses would not be available until after the season ends, is ludicrous, motivated entirely by self-interest. The need for Chelsea Football Club to play their captain comes before all else.

Spurs should do everything to keep Redknapp at the Lane but will be under intolerable pressure to let him do his duty. The FA have to shortlist but undoubtedly they sound out potential candidates first. Surely they will speak to Harry.

For his part, Redknapp will feel as if he’s between a rock and a hard place. He’s made no secret of his pride in being able to manage England should the opportunity arise and will find it hard to resist the bandwagon. He’s been equally excited and privileged at the prospect of leading a team into the Champions League and tilting at the title. To repeat, this is new territory for him and at his age he won’t ever look after a club side as good as this one. Any lingering doubts he had about his place in the hearts as well as the minds of the fans were dispelled a week last Tuesday. Whatever his faults and dodgy ‘arry the wide boy has many, he’s a proper football man. Success on the field and a place in a club’s heritage means an awful lot.

The FA will pull out all the stops to get their man. If they don’t, their reputation in the eyes of the public will be irrevocably tainted. I feel a fudge coming on – Pearce in charge until the summer, then Harry takes over. I’m not keen – I want Harry to be totally focussed on Tottenham, and of course this means he’ll leave us in the end. Another option could be to wait. They say you get only one chance at the England job. However, history shows it often doesn’t work out and the pressure is such that I don’t blame managers if they don’t want to hang about too long. Even at his age, it could come up again in the next 3 or 4 years. A gamble but then H likes a flutter.

None of this would be possible without Daniel Levy’s permission. Once again our future lies in the hands of our inscrutable chairman. He’ll take his time – quite right. Pressure will be brought to bear but he has broad shoulders that belie his slight frame. He’s always put the interests of the club first in the past. Say no Daniel and see what happens. Who knows, maybe we’ll be singing your name sometime soon.