Time To Hold Our Nerve

For an hour this was arguably Spurs’ best performance of the season.  United fought to come to terms with the unusual experience of being pushed back deep into their own half, of struggling to get hold of the ball, of being unable to break free. All this effort and hard won superiority was thrown away in three mad moments of shoddy defending. Ultimately the match became a sober reminder of both how far we’ve come and what remains to be done.

History will always recall the breathtaking pace, flowing movement and stunning goals that shattered Villa, Newcastle and Norwich amongst others but this was the supreme test, the champions as they peak once again for the run-in to the league title. After a sticky start when we appeared as rusty as our opponents were classy, we gradually imposed our will on the game. To see this unfold before your eyes is a rare and inspiring delight, to see the team come to terms with a few problems, work them out and then proceed to dominate for long spells against the very best. This isn’t just about good individuals. Rather, it’s the team as a living organism, one where it’s possible to peek inside and see how it adapts to new conditions.

Welbeck’s pace and Rooney’s dash looked ominously good early on. The determination of our makeshift central midfield paring of Sandro and Livermore took them forward but as they pressed, United exploited the gaps they left behind in front of the back four. However, Spurs made sure this did not last for long. Pause for thought plus some sharp finger jabbing from King and they adjusted their starting positions. Remaining a fraction deeper provided the required cover and enabled them to time their forward movement better. Modric,  playing wide left from necessity, looked for the ball and found in Assou Ekotto a willing helper. As the half went on, Benny drove us onward, teamwork and early passes of the highest order.

No Bale so Lennon had to provide the pace to up the tempo and make something of our increasing possession. He did well, pressurising defenders and switching wings to set up Saha for a glorious opportunity. For the second time in three weeks, a Spurs player contrived to get in the way and Abebayor was penalised for handball. Earlier, Manu missed the best chance of the half, clean through but De Gea saved low to his left. It felt as if Many could have put his foot through the ball rather than open himself up, which often means less force cam be applied to the shot.

The crowd were agitated by some of the possession football but it’s so hard to break United down. Livermore and Sandro showed great poise and purpose, keeping the ball on the move, never resting and unafraid to get stuck in when necessary. Although he gave the ball away in a couple of dangerous situations, Livermore once more showed his promise. He does something off, but doesn’t blink. Just gets on with it, his game is apparently unaffected by the ups and downs. He clashed with the master Scholes, didn’t bat an eyelid. No respecter of reputations, he’s in the process of making a bit of a reputation himself. As a result, Scholes and Carrick were pushed back, Rooney forced into midfield to help out. As far as teamwork goes, this was as good a period as I’ve seen this year, up there with the closing minutes of the City game where our opponents turned this way and that in frustration but could not find a way through.

Then a free kick is awarded against Sandro. I’ve not seen a replay but it looked soft at best, non-existent more accurately. Either way, I still can’t believe he was booked. Trouble is, the next time the ball left that area of the pitch was when we kicked off after going a goal down. The teams left the field at half-time to a tumult of derision directed toward the referee yet it’s not his fault that we can’t defend a simple corner. Giving Rooney a free header is naive in the extreme. Was it Walker who lost him? In the second half, Rooney protested as his new marker, Sandro, roughed him up before a corner but the damage had already been done. Walker on Rooney doesn’t seem the best match-up to me: one for the coaches to think about.

To their credit, Spurs picked up after half time where they left off. The tempo and ball-retention was good, Lennon looked promising and United seldom got near our goal. Then, one of those how-did-he-get-there-why-isn’t-anyone-near-him-surely-the-ref-has-stopped-play moments. Benny threw up his arms in incredulity even as he turned to cover Nani’s run. A moment’s doze at a throw-in but a second later the game was lost. Luka should have done more to prevent the run in the first place, Walker at least got a tricky ball away from the goal but not far enough and Young scored. Soon after, as we obligingly backed off Young had a training-ground run-up to prepare his favourite long range curler.

Only then did United fully assert themselves and passed the ball around until the final whistle.When Defoe scored I didn’t even stand up but it was well-taken. United were never going to repay our defensive generosity. So many dispiriting afternoons against United in recent years, you would have thought that I would have got used to them by now but this was utterly dispiriting because we had played so, so well. The defending was appalling: it’s pointless playing so well if we come up with that sort of cack. Nothing to do with United being able to bounce back: we should not have given them the chance. However, United are a benchmark and if we are to aspire to their status, we have to take our chances when they come and concentrate for 90 minutes, not 89 minutes and 50 seconds. That’s all it was, in total. Switching off for 10 seconds and the game we dominated for large swathes of time has gone.

Plenty of good things to hold on to as the gap narrows, starting with 4 points, the way we played, our refusal to be intimidated and the return of Bale, Rafa and Parker. Rafa’s presence yesterday could have been the difference as Saha was largely ineffective. I sometimes wonder about the callers to 606 – yesterday in the midst of understandably exasperated Spurs fans blaming the ref, Saha, the ref again, one guy said Redknapp had taken us as far as he could and should be sacked. The evidence – the last three results. Now there are ups and downs in my relationship with Harry but I’d hang on a bit. If being the third best team in the country is the level we’re currently on, we’ve been there since about November. This guy had obviously had enough of waiting, it was three months after all, but personally I’m going to offer HR a little more of my patience.

‘One Love’ proclaimed the banner. That doesn’t seem quite right for Redknapp. The team maybe, the shirt for a lifetime, but not the manager however well he’s done. I’ve criticised him for his tactics over the last two games but he returned to a familiar 4-4-2 and we looked better for it. I would have chosen Defoe ahead of Saha but Harry had to play with his new toy. I’m not a huge Defoe fan but he’s done well this year and would have done more when we didn’t have the ball. Interesting that Walker hardly got forward – instructions clearly, perhaps to stop Evra and Young teaming up. Oh, and one more thing – dodgy keeper so we should have put him under more pressure on crosses and set pieces.

Finally, no complaints at all about motivation. That answered any queries about how the NLD defeat would hit us. We need to hold our nerve, remember what we do well and keep doing it. In the same way we effectively rote off the early season defeats against the Manchester clubs, CL qualification will be secured by how well we do in the run of tough but winnable games that follow the Chelsea match through to the end of the season.

Every Little Bit Hurts

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.

Harry’s Human After All

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.

Tottenham Hotspur: Football The Way It Should Be Played

We were in our places a few minutes earlier than usual, standing not sitting, hopping around not so much to stave off the bitter cold, more in excited anticipation. Even the veterans haven’t seen anything like this.

The players had a prematch kickabout, the mascot’s nervous pride shone through as they found a hero to play with, but all eyes were on the tunnel. Harry scuttled to his seat, eyes down, surrounded by his loyal lieutenants. A few short paces, but the march of an ancient Roman Emperor returning to the city from a successful campaign could not have been greeted as a greater triumph.

The ground sang his name from beginning to end, ‘one Harry Redknapp’, ‘we want you to stay’.  Pause for breath and it was ‘Pardew for England’. As if determined not to be overshadowed, the players proceeded to rip their hapless opponents to shreds. Inspired by a tidal-wave of goodwill, they swamped Newcastle in a breathtaking display of bewilderingly complex movement, stunning pace and ice-cold finishing.

Modric dominated the centre, sinew and artistry in contrast to his team-mate Bale, pace and muscle

Harry waves at me

rampaging through the defence. He and Krancjar swapped sides, Saha became 10 years younger in an instant. Throwing off all those injuries and scars as he drank deep from an elixir of youth. Assou Ekotto strolled up and down the left and was both playmaker and unlikely scorer. And through it all Emmanuel Adebayor provided the focus and vision around which every attack revolved.

Beforehand Redknapp tried to pretend this was business as usual but as the goals went in one by one he was as thrilled by his marvellous side as any fan in the land. He’d created this, a team of all talents that swept away a rival for the coveted top four. Harry’s a tough old bird but he’s seldom seen football this good, and he made it happen. This was beauty, the way the game is supposed to be played. He punched the air after the first goal then quickly sat down to regain his composure. Less than twenty minutes later, number four and he punched the air, a little dad at a wedding dance, part joy, part incredulity, much relief. After a week like he’s had, everything had come right and the expelled tension flowed into the night air. The Lane is home now. He’ll never feel safer.

Everything happened around and because of Adebayor. Four assists plus a sweet delicate chest high volley, it’s hard to believe he’s been out of sorts lately even though his most disappointing game was only 6 days ago. Maybe that’s the sign of a quality professional, that he decided to do something about it. Drifting wide he took the defence with him, leaving the keeper cruelly exposed, as for the opener when Benny had enough room to throw down a picnic blanket and open the hamper at the far post. More central, he held on to it under pressure or toppled sideways, in the act of falling touching back to a team-mate, eye on the ball, mind on the half chance.

His work for the first two goals was masterful, an irresistible combination of skill, pace and precision. He’s top dog here if he plays like this. He has no rival for that position. Rather than making him complacent, that’s where he wants to be, on the pitch and in the dressing room. That’s why we don’t get any disruption from him. This was the definitive modern lone striker and the first half should be used in traingn videos.

We prospered from the stream of crosses and neat balls into channels that came from all sides. Walker, Modric, Bale, Benny, Niko, a few from Parker who for the most part stayed in the background and made sure nothing much happened at the other end. Although Saha was playing off Manu, his instincts take him into the box. Recently I’ve mentioned that if I do have a niggle, it’s about scoring more goals from inside the area and noticeably we had a couple more bodies in there last night. Our second showed the value of how an ageing striker may not have the legs but he has the instinct. Right place right time, only the finest goal scorers make it look that easy. I’ll leave you to the blockbusting blasters from 25 yards. This is my kind of goal. I’ve watched it 20 times on ESPN goals and you now what, I’m pausing for a second to have another look. Oh Harry, you’ve done it again.

Manu and Louis again for the third, back to the goal touch this time, Saha close by. They say it takes time for partnerships to build and develop, but 20 minutes?

Newcastle are shattered and there’s still three-quarters of the game to go.

HR looks worried. This wasn't taken yesterday

Adebayor has pulled them all over the place. Like an old woollen jumper after a downpour, they are sagging and out of shape. Collocinni has no idea what to do but he makes a better effort than the rest of his defence. Our opponents had injuries but no pattern or organisation. Their midfield offered no protection whatsoever and their fullbacks will have nightmares for years to come, in the depths of the night a vision of blurry white shirts rushing past them from all angles. Make it stop, in heaven’s name stop, have mercy! You don’t have to be a first-teamer to stand in the right position but they failed to do even that.

The gaps opened and e filled them, piling into the space at lightening speed from all directions. Saha almost with a hat-trick then Niko followed up.

We drew breath and the second half was bound to be an anti-climax after that. We strolled, largely untroubled although Friedel made one good save, as attentive to his duties as ever. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see him on the end of one of those first half crosses, such was our superiority.

I love Harry Redknapp, Harry Redknapp loves me. I think he’ll go but if anything keeps him here, it will be nights like these. The Lane is rocking, the football is delightful and Harry’s heart was pounding. He’s one of us now, and he likes that feeling. He’ll forever be associated with West Ham but Harry, be honest, you never had a night like this one at the Boleyn, now did you?

On a day when the headlines have been dominated by the wretched Suarez and a minority of apologist Liverpool fans who seek to justify his foul, base attitudes, this was the perfect antidote. Football as it is supposed to be. An outstanding, stunning performance.