Stoke v Spurs: A Win Is A Win

August 23, 2010August 23, 2010 / Alan / 4 Comments

I often ponder on the psychology of footballers. Presuming they reflect on life at all, an assumption that might be stretching the reader’s credulity beyond breaking point, their state of mind appears to be the difference between success and failure. Intangible and nebulous, sometimes it over-rides fitness, tactics, even the laws of physics, as the ultimate determining factor in winning or losing.

Players and managers can convince themselves that black is white, such are their conceptual contortions in order to stay motivated. In so doing they sound so foolish in the media – Martinez, a serious, intelligent and articulate man told MOTD viewers that they will take the positives from Wigan’s 6-0 defeat against Chelsea. The point is, he meant it. Such self-delusion is a vital element of what marks out the professional sportsman from the rest of us mortals. The merest doubt in the mind and all is lost. Sometimes this comes over as sheer stupidity, or alternatively as arrogance, but to a professional it is as necessary as breathing.

So this morning, I muse on this – a shaky odd-goal victory over Stoke could have set us up for the season. More so than the excellent performance against City the previous week. This was blood and guts, controversy and good fortune, backs against the wall, where seven days previously had seen polish and poise. Yet I’ll wager that the fact that we came through it, the elbows and the power, the aerial bombardment and set pieces, the sweat and pressure, means more to the team that a point versus a top four challenger. We won and that’s all that matters.

Deprived of three quarters of our strike force, nevertheless Harry could not have been too disappointed by taking the field with 5 in midfield. Harry’s pretty quiet on the bench these days, snuggling back deep into his seat like a pensioner on a park bench with a few hours to kill before yet another evening of bad TV and nothing-to-do. Maybe he’s finally put those relaxation techniques to good use: ‘Meditation For the Stressed Sixties – Settling Into a Relaxed Retirement’. I’d make a fortune if I had the time to come up with a book like that. He’d have believed the back four could handle Fuller and Walters, rightly as it turned out, and the security of an extra midfielder may have quelled the twitching, at least for a while.

It worked well in the first half. Who needs strikers when you have two wide men like Bale and Lennon. Harry kept Lenny on the move, left then right then left again. Stoke couldn’t pick him up. Even if they knew where Bale was, they couldn’t stop him, not on this form. With their four, Delap was pulled inside: switch it with a bit of speed or a long ball and Bale was all alone.

Two long, perfectly weighted balls from Lennon, one off the nose, one the sweetest smoothest gem you could ever wish to see. There’s always something special about a volley – it’s the sudden unexpectedness of it all, the lack of predictability in an increasingly formulaic game – but this one was superlative, partly because of the height, partly because it was not just brute force that meant it flew into the opposite corner. A perfect connection, ball and boot, mind and body. True brilliance.

In between, we had let the lead slip all too quickly. The first bit of argybargy in the box and it’s in. Let’s deal with this here and now. Gomes has to expect some rough stuff in his box and needs the assistance of his defenders to clear it out. He could have done better on Saturday, no question. However, he was targeted, off the ball and illegally, at every set piece. Stoke are rightfully aggrieved at the goal that never was but just beforehand Huth had eyes only for our keeper and his little push successfully weakened Gomes’ leap. The pushing and shoving happens with every team – yes, even us – and every corner, but here was a concerted and deliberate campaign to prevent our goalkeeper from playing.

Goal-line technology gathers all the headlines but cutting out the fouling in the box would immediately and immeasurably improve the game to a far great extent.

At half-time, Pulis cancelled feeding time; his team came out hunting for red meat. Harry again – good team selection with Kaboul, alongside Dawson, the right man for this particular job. The two of them gave as good as they got, for the most part. Kaboul was turned once by Fuller in the first half and Daws launched himself once or twice, but they kept Stoke in front of them for the whole game.

Last season I wrote so many times that we have to match the strong and physical teams, rather than make Wengeresque excuses. A Stoke crowd getting worked up about our physical approach, oh the irony. Sadly however, another problem from last term did raise its ugly head – giving the ball away. Time and again we failed to hold onto possession, so back in it came. Sweat and toil is futile if we just hand it back to our opponents, and frankly against better teams it will prove fatal.

We defended well and I thought we had ridden out the storm when suddenly we rode our luck. With these things I try to back my own judgement in real time. Watching on a stream, my instinct was that he has to give it, he’s waiting for a second to be sure, now he’s glanced at the linesman but he’s right there, best view in the house, got to point to the centre, fair enough, disappointed but a point nevertheless, Stoke deserve it on the play….

And the game goes on. It was over but Gomes was fouled –see above. Also, I just do not think it was as conclusive as everyone with the benefit of 17 replays said

Huth Trains for Set Pieces

it was. I heard both a radio commentator and a Stoke fan say it was a yard over the line: it wasn’t.

Of the rest, Crouch worked hard but was often too far away from the midfield to be of much use and we could not find him in the later stages. JJ had a good match, especially in the second half. No comments about a second dawn (should that be a 37^th dawn?) because we have seen it before, but I’m pleased for him. He made a significant contribution on Saturday.

I go to Wednesday in a more positive frame of mind compared with how I felt 30 minutes into the first half against Young Boys. We have every chance and the Lane will be rocking. We must keep the ball better than we did on Saturday and in the first leg. Not jumping to conclusions, but once is an off-day, twice is not a coincidence. Have to sort this out.

Above all, the squad will be confident after this win. Overall, the quality of our football didn’t merit that confidence but the knowledge that we had the strength to battle and hang on will resonate in the dressing room for some time to come. And that’s what counts.

The Ups and Downs of Benny The Ball

August 20, 2010August 20, 2010 / Alan / 5 Comments

With the season barely a week old, Spurs full-back Benoit Assou Ekotto has already touched the stars and plumbed the depths. I trust the motion sickness will have worn off by kick-off tomorrow.

It all began with so much promise. A fine performance against Manchester City on Saturday not only kept us tight and cosy at the back, a number of long-range curling passes turned defence into attack. His tackle on SWP saved the game, and if Hart had not been wearing those new jet-pack boots, his first half shot, bound for the top corner, could have won it for us. He would have been pleased to see his name on the team sheet in the first place, given Bale’s rip-roaring form. That was quite a compliment, but not quite matching the ultimate accolade – the Tottenham On My Mind MOM…

But there’s more. In town on Monday, you know those people who read your paper over your shoulder or out of the corner of their eye, the ones that if you make eye contact, they pretend to be looking just past you, engaged in an intense study of ceiling rivet techniques or the patterning and durability of the seat covers, comparing modern fabric with the classic London Transport check of 40 years ago, well, I am that voyeur. It’s a compulsion – I do it even if the paper is free and I have said paper in my hand at the time.

On the Northern Line I spotted on the top left of the Evening Standard page, ‘Spurs star who takes the..’ and the rest was obscured. I later picked up a copy with a sinking heart: bound to be either two metre Peter’s latest drunken philandering or, worse, it’s a Spurs man who has the super-injunction. In fact, footballer in good news story shock horror drama probe. The Standard, always on the look out for any passing bandwagon, has leapt aboard the Big Society as it careers through state and local authority provision. Benny is a major contributor to ‘the Dispossessed Fund’ which has gathered £1m to help support London’s poor.

It’s a genuine good news story. Benny loves London and travels everywhere from his Canary Wharf flat (thought they all had to live close to Chigwell and the training ground?) by public transport.

Benny's Famous Roger Moore Impression

“I love London and consider myself to be a Londoner. I take the Tube. It allows me to feel like a normal person,” he said. “I’ve always got my Oyster card with me. I live an anti-football life. I want to live like a normal person.

“It’s strange to walk around the city and see people sleeping in the streets. You shouldn’t be able to see something like that and then just go home and carry on with your life as normal. You have to do something about it.”

He owes this refreshing humility, rare amongst professional footballers, to his upbringing:

“My mother didn’t teach me to live like a star. I know how difficult it is to make money….I’m a footballer and I earn a lot of money, but when I go back to Cameroon I see the real problems that people are facing. It made me re-evaluate my life.”

In contrast, on the back pages of the same edition, Ashley Cole is being given a PR makeover to improve his image. The clue is in that sentence, Ash – it’s about what you do and how you behave, especially towards your fellow human beings, not about image is. He’ll never learn, bless him.

Spurs have joined in the campaign too, the first Premier League team to do so.

Benny is different, we know that. Last season he pulled off the staggering feat of saying that all footballers are in it for the money, but in a nice way. He’s a professional and will give his all, but in the end it’s a job and he’ll walk away. He plays football because he can but would much rather do something in music. Badge-kissing and fist-pumping is so much nonsense – see players for what they are and enjoy it, he seems to be saying, but don’t make them something they are not.

He greets all this with the same expression, slightly bemused and disconnected but not unhappy. My son has seen the team board the coach post-match at a few away games. Benny will stroll towards the bus, headphones on, in a world of his own, whereas the others will mostly sign a few books and pose for photos. Somehow he does it in a manner that does not offend. It’s just the way he is. The only clue to his feelings is the merest twitch of the face, the most expressive raised eyebrow since Roger Moore’s puppet on Spitting Image.

I swear he’s the same in games. Whether striding forward, hammering back or hurling himself bodily into the tackle, maybe just the slightest furrowed brow is the only change you can discern.

Benny Relaxes Between Bouts of Fundraising

On Wednesday, he was fairly blank, albeit with eyes downcast, as he suffered the ignominy of being hauled off after 36 minutes. It could be that he was sacrificed for tactical reasons as Hud came on, but Harry did not look at all happy. Benny had been drifting wide and out of position, stranded when he saw the Young Boys forward move up for the third goal. From hero to villain in 4 short days.

I’ve grown fond of our full-backs over the years. I sit on the lower Shelf in the centre and see a lot of them as they toil up and down, the fear in their eyes as they face a quick winger or Bale’s astonishing physicality as he steams up the field.

I like Benny. He’s a good player, quick, alert and neat, good on the ball and sharp in the tackle. If he didn’t care, he would not have improved so much in the last two years, he’d just hang around and pick up his cheque. Sometimes he has off days but you can’t tell until it’s too late, until he wanders or he has those mad days. He reminds me of my dog – even and consistent the vast majority of the time but occasionally for no reason, she flies in and out of the house at top speed for five minutes or so, then stops, again for no apparent reason. Benny goes mad too, usually going walkabout and fouling desperately before being substituted.

Let’s hope he picks himself up for Saturday. Certainly a week of ups and downs, but still, knowing him, he’s probably not noticed and even if he has, you wouldn’t notice the difference.

Public information announcement: our game is live on Absolute Radio Extra tomorrow: DAB Digital Radio, 1215AM and online in the UK. For more go to http://bit.ly/StokeSpursAbsoluteRadio

We Got Away With It

August 18, 2010 / Alan / 13 Comments

A lousy stinking filthy cess-pit of a performance. Surely scrubbing the very last shreds of excrement from the bowels of those lorries that suck the pits dry, using your fingernails, would feel better than watching Spurs last night. Cover me with slime and malodorous mucus. Let me wallow in troughs of putrid decaying refuse, rub foul sludge into the gangrenous scabs that spread over my rotting flesh. And I will dance and sing with joy, because compared with my mood just past 8pm, my spirits will be hearty and hale once more.

But in the end, we got away with it. In the last five minutes, we preened and posed, holding the ball with insouciant nonchalance, like we meant it. Narrow defeat and two away goals, take that before the match started. Yeah right.

What’s more, he was the one who lifted us from the steaming depths of doo-doo. He, the lowest of the low, worst of the worst on a shocking night, shades of Keane and Berbatov again with the one-two and a moment of thrilling brilliance and uncanny understanding totally at odds with the rest of the evening. Reminders of Burnley in the League Cup semi, too. Redknapp bewildered and bereft of ideas, open-mouthed at the inept stupidity of experienced, able players perfectly prepared to throw it all away without, apparently, a second’s concern. Then Pav popped up again with a neatly taken chance that shifted the course of the entire development of the club. If we progress, how much will yesterday’s goal be worth?

I’m never over-confident but I really, genuinely believed, no, not believed, make that rationally analysed using the hard evidence available, that we had got past this sort of thing. Away from home early on you expect to weather the storm from a team whose mindset must have been tuned to confident giant-killers, nothing to lose, show them what we can do. Even accept the lucky break and well-taken goal. But complete mindless feeble collapse, that was consigned to history. Surely. Wolves, February 10^th, same thing (not quite as dire), then consistency, determination, resilience, good football.

Pass the ball 5 yards to someone on your team. Then do it again. That would have been a good start. I’m not asking for the moon on a stick. None of your over-inflated expectations. All this stuff in the blog about we’re not there yet, this isn’t the Champions League, just qualifiers. Not here. Just pass it 5 yards to another white shirt. But we never quite managed it.

Back four stretched across the whole width of the field. Dawson knows he’s slow, he worries, it plays on his mind and is his personal kryptonite. So he flys in, and is lost at sea, stranded. On Saturday I generously thought he was doing so under instruction because he had cover and City were conceding space, but two games in a row in very different circumstances: bit of a problem.

Not all his fault. This rock of ours does his best work deeper in our box, protected by his midfield. That’s why he was so good last season. If Daws was lost at sea, then Wilson drifted off the end of the earth. The perfect first-leg man, sit and hold. Last night, if he had been instructed to hold his bollocks he would have missed them.

So Daws in his desperation felt irresistibly drawn to the siren-like attractions of his defensive partner. Standing in each other’s shadows, miles up the pitch, one deft pass and they were both out the game. And Young Boys had a few of those passes. They were excellent with their swift and economical breaks, diagonal passes with perfect weight into the space. Their third was a fine goal: if Barca or Brazil has created that, it would be on loop repeat on Sky with the pundits slobbering lecherously.

Easy to blame Seb for that but it was a lovely pass and he received no assistance whatsoever from Benny. BAE could see the man making that run, Bassong couldn’t, and he should have been tucked in more. Instead, he fell into one of his bad habits, which is to hang out too wide, leaving a big gap between him and the left-sided centre half.

The same charge can be levelled at Corluka, not for that move but he severely disappointed. I expect more of him, but he too left a big space inside him and was so wasteful with the ball. He’s one of our men who I look to for a little steadiness under fire. Hold the ball, knock a few short passes, slow it down. Precisely because he can’t run or beat a man, solid defence and short passing is what he does. So do it. Unable last night.

Harry’s bold substitution bringing Hud on so early was a turning point of sorts. Although we were hardly scintillating after his arrival, at least we had some shape and purpose. He’s fast becoming a key man. The team are reassured by his presence. He makes them play better.

By that point it could not have become any worse. Literally. Pav was abysmal, constantly finding new ways to give the ball away and for goodness sake STOP DIVING, it’s so obvious. He lost a perfectly good free kick at the edge of the box because the ref was fed up with him. Gio is not a winger. If he’s given a freer role across the pitch and behind the strikers, he moves well and chooses the options to run with the ball or pass it. Stuck out wide, he just runs, head down, unaware of what is going on around him. Bale looked lost, a reminder of his inexperience for all his success of late.

But still in the first 30 minutes we made and missed 3 great chances. Defoe tried the outside of the foot with that ball from the left when surely a right instep would have fulfilled the striker’s obligation to get the ball on target. He did the same thing from a ball at a similar height for England at the World Cup. On that day it hit his ankle and went in, he became the hero, but there’s a technique problem there.

So we got away with it. Back to the Lane only one down and a couple of away goals in the bank. Young Boys are a useful, well-organised side who will still be quick and active on grass, but it’s a tie we have every opportunity to win.

On Saturday there was much to praise, in particular the collective determination of the team to take the game to their opponents, to be in charge. Don’t know where that’s gone. Perhaps it was never really there after all. Thought I had seen so much of it – Chelsea, Arsenal, City last season, that’s where I saw it. Or was it just my imagination? We’ll need it on Saturday and never more so come a week tonight.

Spurs v City – I Feel Fine

August 16, 2010 / Alan / 12 Comments

Forget the goalkeeping heroics: the story of the weekend is the emergence of Spurs as a genuine force to be reckoned with.

In my season’s preview, I stressed above all else that we had to respond to the pressures of expectation by taking the play to our opponents and dictate the game. Every match, every stride, pass and touch. Using that as the benchmark, the draw against Manchester City was a fine performance that augers well for the future.

Infused with optimism that really is not like me at all, I took in it all those precious moments of anticipation before kick-off. Shaking hands with the seat-holders around me, who I’ve seen every other week for many years, see in fact far more frequently than my ‘real’ friends these days, yet we still don’t know each other’s names. The ground full and shiny, a roar at the first whistle.

As ever it’s also the moment when it suddenly occurs to me that things may not proceed as smoothly as my fantasies predicted. City have a mighty team, the experience, quality and muscle of that midfield. Yaya Toure is huge. 30 seconds in and they have 11 within 25 yards of their goal. Reality bites.

From the first whistle we went hunting for the ball, teasing and probing City’s massed defensive ranks. Modric busied himself from the off, covering ground, available for team-mates and searching for passes, either wide or into the channels at the edge of the box. Huddlestone had a quieter but effective game, not afraid to put himself about a bit with a couple of sly late nibbles at City players’ ankles. Both put their foot in when it mattered.

Sometimes, though, it’s the attitude and approach that signals the true state of play. Throughout we were impressively purposeful and confident, barely a moment’s complacency in the 90 minutes. Hud again marked it for me. In the past he’s hidden from the challenge and slunk away when the first passes go astray. Now, there’s an air of authority about him. He put in the yards and maintained his concentration. He wanted to make things happen rather than wait for colleagues to take over the centre before he gets going. Again, he was not our best player by any means but he symbolised this new attitude. Dare I say he looked like man not an overgrown boy.

Luka’s excellent first half kept everyone moving. The interchange in the centre was good and throughout the match we had width from Lennon and the superb Bale, raiding with exhilarating power and precision for the entire game. Those curling crosses at pace will lead to many assists over the coming season and he was unlucky when he hit the post.

Unlucky – lazy writing, you make your own luck and if the ball hits the post, sure, it’s close but it’s a miss nonetheless. But ‘unlucky’ is my mind’s entry into the fact that our sustained first half superiority didn’t lead to goals. Hart was fantastic, the reaction save from Defoe bettered only by the gravity-defying leap into the top corner from Benny’s deflected shot. JD had probably the best chance but his effort was smothered well. Sharper finishing would have made the difference but I don’t feel inclined to be over-critical, although he should score more one-on-one.

City got a grip in the second half as they pushed De Jong into a more central role. However they seldom threatened and the brave double substitution reinvigorated our play as Keane and Pav’s movement created further chances. In the end, the pressure told. The ball bounced clear in the box and Bale moved on to it. You work and work, something will come up. Not luck, you see, keep grafting and there, suddenly, is your one precious moment, when time stands still, acres appear where once there was barely room to stand, the target is wide and inviting…..

The ball dribbles onto rusty shale, a crunching that sets the clocks in motion once more, the chance gone, never to return. The raging after that miss soon subsided and this morning there’s an air of quiet satisfaction despite the loss of two points. Our team play was outstanding, considering that it was the first match of the season. We (almost) always had plenty of men both in attack and defence, worked hard as a unit and tracked back for 90 minutes. In the first half City broke swiftly after we had a corner, yet by the time the ball reached our box we had 6 men back. That would not have happened last season.

We missed chances but at least we made them against a team with a disappointingly negative outlook. Understandable as it’s an away match versus one of their closest rivals but City have such quality I had expected more. There will be more as the season progresses, I’m sure.

Tactically, our 4-4-2 was seldom outnumbered in the middle but up front Crouch and Defoe still operate as individuals. JD’s off the ball play continues to improve but his runs should be sharper. When the ball is coming from the right, he usually drops away instead of running for a ball down the right channel. It’s because his instincts take him towards goal but often he needs to wait for a pass or three as the move develops rather than go too early and be marked out of it.

Our full backs were cautious for the most part – I’m not sure Charlie crossed the halfway line. It meant that even when we pushed on, we always had three men at the back. This in turn gave the midfield some security to go forward and could be the way we maximise attacking resources whilst staying strong in defence when teams drop back into their half to defend. City made it easier because they were so narrow; it would be difficult if a winger kept Corluka occupied out wide. Dawson was scarily willing to commit himself, often inside the City half, but again this might have been part of the tactics because Corluka was usually behind him. It’s still reckless and Daws should make his choices more conservative before flying in. Get stuck in is fine, but miss and he’s on his arse and out of the equation.

Man of the match was Assou Ekotto, by a nose from Bale. Neat in the challenges and creative in his use of the ball, his long curling passes were a feature of our performance and his tackle on SWP was a match-saver (although MOTD showed his was the error that allowed SWP the space).

So early days but the signs are good. Points lost in circumstances where later in the season I may be feel less sanguine. Now, this feels like a promising beginning, and the first half especially was a thrilling spectacle. Roll on tomorrow night – impose ourselves in the same way and we’ll win.