Season 2009-10

Jermain Defoe – Spurs Key Man

/ Alan / 1 Comment

Jermain Defoe is the key man for Tottenham Hotspur in the Premier League this season.

I’d written a piece on the reasons why and what he had to accomplish. Then he scores against Holland and I’ve pressed delete. That.

His first was a beautiful goal. The timing of the run, the ball control, the balance whilst running at pace, the touch to the left to make an angle and finally the neat tuck inside the keeper’s near post. Perfect.

JD lacks nothing in terms of ability. His problem is his brain. He can’t fathom this offside thing, can he. He moves too early and even then does not fill the space in front of him; notice how close he stays to defenders, rather than instinctively moving to the space in between the full back and centre half or between the two central defenders.

This is as much a confidence problem as one of technique. Brash and vulgar, nevertheless on the pitch he moves early because in the back of his mind he wants that extra split second advantage. I’m sure he’s not aware enough to recognise this attitude problem, so Harry needs to work on his technique. I’d suggest he is locked in a darkened room for 48 hours with just a bunch of Michael Owen DVDs. Of his contemporaries, Owen is the most expert at sitting on the defender’s shoulder, there but just out of sight. He gets in front of opponents and times those runs along the back four to perfection. If Defoe gets it right, he has pace in abundance to extract maximum advantage.

Two other things, JD. First, change your default position from ‘blast it’ to ‘think about it’. Take that fraction of moment, set yourself and then push it, side foot, hammer it sometimes, but don’t just whack it.

Second, football is a team game. These people in the admittedly foul white/yellow/grey squiggly-bit-at-the-top shirts are on your side and you are allowed to pass. Unbelievably, some of them are as good as you.

Defoe has been a good prospect for too long. It’s time to step into the spotlight, which after all he adores. Harry will look after him and he looks fighting fit. This is his moment.

Spurs New Season Predictions – What Do I Know?

/ Alan / 1 Comment

It’s prediction time for Tottenham Hotspur and the new Premier League season.

Some phrases become clichés through lazy repetition, others because there is no better way succinctly to encapsulate reality. Into the latter category falls this short sentence that perfectly sums up the experience of being a football fan: it’s not the despair that gets you, it’s the hope.

If Spurs fans believe this feeling is uniquely ours, we are sorely mistaken. We may rail and rage at our problems over the years but to find the true meaning of despair we have only to look to Newcastle, Southampton or Luton, or even, lower down the pyramid, the loyal fans of Fisher Athletic, for obvious reasons my non-league team, who have gone out of business. Not having a team to support, now that puts our failure to find a left sided midfielder into perspective. Even Newcastle won’t descend to such depths.

However, amongst the Premier League teams at least we can lay a strong claim to the other side of the equation. Each new season brings not just the buoyant optimism shared by fans of most teams but also evidence that change and growth is indeed just around the next corner. A new manager who will really organise and motivate. New players to plug the gaping holes in our defence or a consistent proven goalscorer. No messiahs, thank you, I’d prefer a grafting midfielder.

I confess. This time last year I was culpable. That’s the thing about writing on the web. It’s all there. I admit it. After reading my predictions on My Eyes Have Seen the Glory this time last year, I quite understand if you never trust my judgement again. Whilst expressing strong reservations at Jol’s departure, I nevertheless identified the method behind Levy’s madness. There was a plan, there must be. Preseason went extremely well and Ramos’ lack of transfer activity meant that he had faith in the squad. Players like Huddlestone and JJ had matured into top class performers. Bentley’s signing was a coup. Farewell, in the short time we have had together, it’s been nice knowing you.

The thing about Ramos that I can’t get over, apart from the fact that a guy with his pedigree could get so much so wrong in so short a space of time, is how distant that feels. It’s like another world. Even though most of his personnel remain at the club, it’s so much a bygone era that I almost picture his team running out in baggy shorts and toe-caps. Shut your eyes and smell the dubbin.

But.

Harry Redknapp will lead this Spurs team to a successful season. By successful I mean that we will be meaningful contenders, not for the top four but certainly for Europe and in the cups. The top four will not be keen to face us and we will continue last season’s good run of results against them.

This blog has adopted a weary and cynical tone when describing some of Harry’s activities. Whilst his media persona is carefully created and massaged, his coaching and motivation works. He perfectly understands the essence of Premier League football and shapes his teams accordingly. Frankly I doubt if he could take a team to the Champions League final but that’s hardly in our sights.

Harry will buy the right players for the job he wants them to do. As a result, they will play to the best of their ability. Levy the poodle will stump up the cash, no questions asked. Our teamwork will come on leaps and bounds and in the process we will see some decent passing football.

Redknapp’s work last season unquestionably saved us from disaster. This season we can safely look up, not down, although we may have to be patient. Our injuries in central defence may once again lead to a slow start. That said, we have a strong, experienced defence in front of a keeper who will shine. The midfield can shield the back four but may have more trouble being creative. Nevertheless, we have a fine mixture of skill, guile and pace around a central striker. Also, we have a plan B, i.e. players able to provide an alternative if this set-up is not working.

I’ll write more about the players in the next few posts. In the meantime, in the ‘On Harry’s Mind’ page there are some quotes from our leader (and I’ll be adding to those when time permits). Some of what he says is amusing, some is contradictory, but one statement rings true:

“She [Sandra, his wife] said to me: ‘We were talking about retiring, let alone getting into all this again, Harry’,” he admitted. “But let’s give it a go before it’s too late.”

‘arry may be dodgy but his love for the game is genuine. This is his last chance, and he will give it one hell of a go.

Darren Bent to Sunderland – Goodbye and Good Luck

/ Alan / Leave a comment

Darren’s Bent’s transfer to Sunderland for £10m plus add-ons means we can recoup most of the cash Charlton trousered and have now squandered. His fee was never as high as the often quoted £16.5m and Levy softened the blow with easy payments over three years. So not a bad deal in the end and I wish him well; a decent player and by all accounts a decent bloke too.

You could never tell how Bent was feeling. Happy or sad, he habitually wore a similar fixed expression, the only clue being a slight movement of the eyebrows, up for ‘goal!’ and down for, well, let’s be honest, they were down for a lot of the time. Yet this mask failed to hide his unease at being a Tottenham player. Despite being our top goalscorer, he seldom looked the part and never settled.

His recent outburst on Twitter was rather endearing. In this bland world of media-managed comments and interviews, here was a guy expressing an opinion. No wonder he was hacked off, as delays jeopardised his transfer. It revealed how much he wanted to get away.

Footballers are extremely well recompensed for the inconvenience of criticism from the media and from fans, but being dragged off a plane at the last moment, in front of your team mates, could not have been a pleasant experience for him. Yet this was nothing in comparison with Harry’s famous comment about his headed miss, the one that Sandra could have put away.

In this morning’s papers Bent says this comment hurt at the time and still does, and that he never felt valued by his manager. Remember that Bent invested considerably in our club, turning down a substantially larger offer from West Ham to join us under Martin Jol. It reveals another side of Redknapp, darker than the avuncular father figure image that he so assiduously cultivates. No friendly arm around the shoulder here, but stark rejection. Some Portsmouth players have commented on this same feature. If Harry makes it clear that you are unwanted, that’s a cold place to be.

It also demonstrates that Bent is one of those players for whom confidence matters hugely. We rarely saw him at his best. For all the occasions when he looked sharp in front of goal, these were outweighed by feeble misses, not wide so much but the certainty that he would score was missing in his glazed expression. He waited for something to happen instead of making it so, in the same way that playing up front he hung back rather than attacked the ball. In his head he needed to give himself that extra fraction of a second, but all he did was allow defenders to time and again get in first. He left too great a gap between himself and the midfield, therefore the link-up play constantly foundered.

Neither goalscorer nor target-man, there’s no place at the club for him. I feel odd in dismissing our top goalscorer but the move is right, for him and us. He will do better at Sunderland, a bigger fish in a smaller pond. With less of a burden on his shoulders, it will be nice to see him a crack a smile.

Ossie’s Real Dream

/ Alan / Leave a comment

In a few moments you will read the words of a great Tottenham footballer. Properly, fully, righteously great is what I’m saying here, as opposed to ‘great’ in the modern sense of the word, which in the otherwise vacant mind of many a media hack has come to be defined as ‘slightly better than average.’

Great as in supremely talented, to the extent that his gift enabled him to rise to the very pinnacle of his sport. Yet his virtues would be decried in this day and age. Skilful admittedly, but he could work harder, cover more ground defensively, not take a breather every now and again. With the insight born of the conclusive 57th replay in ultra slow motion, Andy Gray would pick holes in his stamina and positioning. Tut tut.

We mere mortals who delighted in his dexterity, we knew. Our hearts beat faster when he came onto the ball, skipping over the ground, bursts of short staccato steps, hunched shoulders, arms outstretched to offer balance and a measure of protection for his diminutive frame from muscular defenders anxious to disrupt his flow.

Sure he was not a 90 minute man and the fags didn’t help, but it’s what he accomplished in those 20 minute spells when he did play that counts. Then the whole game danced to his tune. He set the pace, a skip, a touch, pass and move, into space, teammates guided towards the pass that would follow not in a moment but in two or three passes time.

A World Cup winner, he held the ultimate prize but remains humble and content with a life in the game, even though that game has hurt him a time or two since then.  A lesson here for the preening precious narcissists we call professionals. Celebrated in his own country but in the drab surroundings of north London he was loved, truly loved, never to be forgotten.

And now, years later, we discover Ossie Ardilles’ real dream. To play once more this wonderful, beautiful game, just for the sake of it. If only.

“ Osvaldo Ardiles concludes his autobiography, Ossie’s Dream, published next week: “And if you asked me, ‘What is your dream, your real dream?’, well, apart from managing a national side in a World Cup, it’s simple: I would give anything to be able to play one more match. I don’t mean a kickabout with some mates. I mean a real, proper football match. Just to walk into the dressing room, all the kit laid out, the new socks, the boots … everything ready.

“Just to do a little run on the spot, a bit of jumping to warm up, then to walk out of the tunnel on to the turf of a real stadium. Just to hear the roar of the crowd and to let my mind compute all the emotions and thoughts and strategies simultaneously: my loved ones, my loyalties, my fitness and, above all, who is going to be marking me? Just to hear the whistle blow, and for the game to start.”

Extract taken from Richard Williams’ column in the Guardian today.