The case for the prosecution: another negative set of substitutions in the final quarter by Villas-Boas presented the initiative to Everton at the very point when their efforts to equalise were floundering. Anyway, Spurs always snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Part of the DNA.

The case for the defence: the substitutions gave us fresh legs in midfield. One change was unavoidable – the excellent Dembele, arguably our best player on the day, had a leg injury and had to come off. Sigurdsson’s arrival gave extra protection against Everton’s dynamic left-side duo of Pienaar and Baines. Anyway, the time Everton looked least like scoring was in the final 15 minutes.

The jury’s out, although put it to the popular vote on twitter and the boards and the prosecution not only proved their case beyond reasonable doubt, they could have called for the black cap. For me, this was not quite the usual Spurs capitulation that sadly is all too familiar, because in the final quarter we were defending well. I genuinely did not think Everton would score. Not like me at all. I can spot danger in the twitch of the opposing goalkeeper’s nose, never mind when they actually get hold of the ball in our half. That will teach me.

For much of the game, this was a contest between systems. Two well-drilled teams fought for supremacy. Both like to counter-attack so there were periods where nothing of significance took place as they waited for the other to take the initiative before decided how to counter punch. Everton had the best chances but as time passed, we held our shape better and gradually got on top, albeit without posing a concerted threat to their goal.

Everton’s attacks were met with clusters of defenders. The imbalance on our left caused by Bale’s absence created a few problems, but late in the first half, cue first Dempsey then Defoe dashing deep to defend. Come the second, we were able to release Demps from his defensive duties. He popped up in central areas on several occasions, most notably when his good shot caught a deflection and sailed over Howard’s head.

Suddenly our approach looked even better. Needlessly we gave the ball away – Tom Hud I’m looking at you – but otherwise we looked assured. We kept our shape, worked hard, blocked passionately. In the last ten minutes Siggy hit the bar and Vertonghen could not quite deliver a final ball with the same quality to match the move that set him up, a superb passage of play where the ball flowed from our box to theirs. Siggy sprinted from right midfield to the left edge of their box, then hurtled back again before Howard could clear.

The defence calls David Moyes to the stand: “We had tried everything,” said Moyes. “We put Baines out wide, Pienaar through the middle and those final 10 minutes were probably the poorest part of our play.”

To me, that augers well for the future. Well-organised under pressure is a sentence that I have seldom typed in the 4 years of this blog, at least in respect of Spurs. As for the substitutions, I’m not keen on too much tinkering when we are ahead but Dembele had a knock and Siggy played well. Falque is an attacking player so we tried to maintain the initiative rather than sit back. However, the prosecution points out that Hud is a master at sitting back and I would have removed Adebayor, who had a poor game, rather than Defoe and Lennon.

Never mind the systems and tactics. In the end we were undone by human error. Lloris called for an innocuous ball into the box so loudly that even my crackly stream picked it up. The only person who didn’t hear was the one who mattered most. For the second time in three weeks, Caulker chose to disobey.

He’s been well-taught. I suspect he’s paid attention to defender’s rule number one – when in doubt, kick it out. The fact he takes responsibility will serve him well in the future but it was this individual error rather than a catastrophic collapse that turned the game.  It gave Everton possession, we failed to track Pienaar’s run and were left to ponder ruefully on about how much Villas-Boas could have brought out of Redknapp’s reject. Another ball, played in front of our centre-half so he could not challenge without risk of a penalty, a fortunate touch on and a well-taken winner.

Everton had the best of the opening quarter but the only stream I could find made everything look slow and uncoordinated. Or perhaps it was fine and that was just when Tom Hud came on. Anyway, the radio was excitedly extolling Everton’s virtues. For those of you who saw that bit, fill in your own paragraph:

 

Found something good after about 20 minutes, although as it buffered I thought I must be watching a replay from past glories  – Spurs in white shirts and navy blue shorts. The radio commentators were right. Everton finished the half on top but we held out under intense pressure, partly thanks to sterling blocking by Sandro and Caulker but also partly because Osman’s aim was skeewhiff on the day. Lloris’ “tackle” at the edge of the box was masterly.

You’ve seen the stats: Spurs have conceded 10 goals this season in the final 15 minutes of matches, and if matches finished at 80 minutes, we’d be top of the table. There’s a problem there. Could be tiredness – in my last piece I felt that overall, the Europa League has been a help not a hinderance because it’s assisted team-building but it could be a factor, as Essexian has pointed out. Without minimising the problem, this wasn’t a typical defeat. Keep our shape like that and we will succeed more often than we fail. Sequences are significant, not individual results. Between now and New Year’s Day we play Swansea, Stoke and Reading at home, Villa and Sunderland away. Let’s see what this frustrating defeat means in that context. I read another (unconfirmed) stat on twitter that said we had the same number of points at this stage last year. If that’s true, who knows – we could be ahead of ourselves come 2013.

Nine points, eight goals and fourth place. More than that, belief. The belief that comes only from winning. Beating the Whammers convincingly and brushing aside Fulham’s challenge on Saturday, a supposedly difficult place to go. Sandwiched in between, a contrast. A gutsy backs against the wall defensive display, we hold on where previous Tottenham teams would have crumbled. Andre Villas-Boas’ Spurs have made an emphatic statement of intent this week.

As the drama unfolds, three different characters fight to find their true role. One has become a star, another a supporting character, the third a bit-part player desperate to show he’s worth time in the spotlight.

Jermaine Defoe is benefitting not just from playing regularly but knowing he will play regularly. He strikes me as a player who wants to succeed as an individual and who wants to prove himself despite his achievements in the league and his international caps. He’s only truly happy when the team have won and he’s scored. Not a criticism – on the contrary, all great strikers are both hungry and selfish. It has meant that he’s tried too hard in the past to make an impression.

There’s a sense he’s still the little kid in the class, always needing to prove himself. The drive to over-compensate led in the last few seasons to a great showreel with goals pinging in from outside the box but we fans saw the out-takes too. Cannonballs high over the bar or into the bodies of defenders stood right in front of him, as if he hadn’t noticed them such was his desperation to score.

He wants to be wanted, don’t we all, and he knows now he is important at Spurs. Redknapp made him welcome and dutifully JD followed him around but as it turned out his so-called mentor wasn’t always there for him. Arm round the shoulder is good for the cameras but if you don’t play him, that’s what he really thinks of you. That hurts.

Consider this from Friday’s Guardian: JD asked, should I stay or should I go? Villas-Boas replied, stay but more than that, I want you, I want you to play.

“Away from football, as a person, he is a top guy, a really nice guy. After every session he will come into the changing room or treatment room and go to every player to see if you are OK. ‘How do you feel? How’s your legs?’ General chit chat. He will do it with every player, every day,” he explains. “Even when I was away with England he will send me a message sometimes – ‘Good luck. How’s the game?’ Stuff like that.”

People in all walks of life are motivated by all sorts of things, but what matters most is what those around you think. Andre, the Andre that we were told can’t handle players, knows that. And Defoe has repaid him. At 30 he’s finally matured. Confident in his own ability and place in the team, he’s letting his talent do the talking. He times the runs to perfection rather than keeping the linesman busy. Sharp and alert in the box, he moves easily into the channels and makes opportunities rather than waiting for them to happen. His finishing is smooth and controlled. I won’t go so far as to say he’s waiting patiently as he’s constantly moaning, deeply perplexed and affronted if the ball isn’t always played to him in the box. But there’s a different air about him under Villas-Boas.

On Saturday he had few chances, indeed few touches, but took two superbly, fully exploiting the gaps in the Fulham defence created by their need to respond to Sandro’s long-range effort that opened up the game.

Stars are nothing without a good script and supporting character actors to feed them the lines. Clint Dempsey joined Spurs in search of the limelight before his career came to a close. All afternoon his former fans reminded him he might have made a mistake and until recently, many Spurs supporters thought the same. More than many, Dempsey needs direction. He can make things happen but only once he’s been given the ball. He’s not lazy and works hard for the team but he’s at his best finding space, operating in the murky haze between the back four and midfield. To score or set one up – he can do both – he needs the ball. More than one or two touches and he’s lost. More than most, he has to know where his team-mates are and they know where he should be.

This week, three decent performances and two assists, both balls made to appear effortless in their precision, one for Bale, one for Defoe. He may yearn for the top billing he had at the Cottage but for the moment he must bide his time and settle for being settled. To be part of the team. It’s a good way to be and he’s learning fast.

So that leaves one misfit from the summer signings. Gylfi Sigurdsson has yet to hit his mark, often wandering aimlessly in the background in search of direction as he too takes his shot at the big time. On Saturday he came onto the stage as substitute and ran hard to across the pitch and up and down, defending from the front.  Then, I don’t want to make too much of a single moment, he effortlessly set up Defoe with an economical, calm move in the box. Right place, looks easy but it’s not. A touch and a pass, looks easy but isn’t. He has stopped being invisible. We will need him in Bale’s absence.

And these players are playing, this team are playing, because their director is getting his message across. Afterwards Villas-Boas had the eager expectant look of a modest schoolboy at Prize Day. More challenges ahead, no doubt about it, but I hope he enjoyed his weekend. He deserves it.

Spurs triumphed in a pulsating night at the Lane, scoring early and then withstanding a thorough going over in the second half from a rejuvenated and rampant Liverpool side. This was a full body search but after examining every nook and cranny, the Reds failed to find what they were looking for. Thrilling attacking football and redoubtable defence from two sides on top form made this a totally absorbing encounter that filled the senses.

I have this particular thing about football at the moment. I never used to have things but it comes with getting older, although if I start ranting about how it was better in the old days and policemen are getting younger, shoot me why don’t you. My thing is that I’m fed up with people moaning about football. There’s a lot wrong with the game: ludicrous prices preventing new generations from coming to grounds, the way clubs treat fans so poorly alienates their loyal support, the demands of TV, inflated expectations from fans and clubs alike, TV coverage. I fully understand why this lot puts people off and all these issues must be addressed.

Without minimising their significance for a single second, all I’d say is that all of this takes place off the pitch. On it, where things really count, football remains rich entertainment and compelling drama. Last night was a fabulous example. Both sides refused to compromise, constantly inventive and compulsively creative. Hammer and tongs for 90 minutes, there was barely time to draw breath. It had everything – pace and power, skill and dexterity under supreme pressure, mistakes and comedy, plus a couple of controversial decisions. Both sets of players and their managers should be warmly congratulated for delivering a marvellous match. Both teams wanted to remain true to their values and do it the right way.

For Tottenham, two excellent wins in four days proves we are making progress on the pitch as well as up the table. Last night, it was not all plain sailing. We gave the ball away far too frequently in the first half and sat back too much in the second. However, we were a team. The players’ confidence and comfort within the system is growing by the match. All over the pitch the combination and support play is improving. They know what they should be doing and where they should be, and, even more importantly, what their team-mates should be doing and where they should be. In two interviews over the weekend, Dempsey and Bale both referred to how meticulous the manager is and how his ideas are getting through. Last night they all gave everything so team spirit is high. Villas-Boas was the last to leave the pitch, departing only after he had thanked each one of his warriors. In both these matches we played for 90 minutes whereas until now we performed in patches. And still we are missing several of our best men.

Tottenham began at the high tempo that suits us and we launched Gareth Bale at the Liverpool defence. This young man is a world class attacker. Relish, enjoy and remember as much as you can, because nobody does it like Bale does it. The title of Welsh Wizard has already been bestowed on another Spurs wide man, Cliff Jones, but our Gareth deserves massive acclaim.

Foolishly Liverpool expected to cope without covering the full-back. Bale at full tilt is virtually unstoppable. Repeatedly he charged towards the hapless defenders, pausing only to bewilder Reina with a swerving, beguiling free-kick from miles out that the keeper nearly missed. Now he ran 50 yards, top speed throughout, weaved through three defenders and his unplayable cross between goalie and defenders left Lennon with a far post tap-in. He scored the second himself, his free kick clipping the wall. This time Reina was fatally deceived through no fault of his own.

In this twenty minute spell, Spurs won the game. While playing well throughout, they were never again on top. As the half went on, Spurs became Liverpool’s most creative asset, repeatedly conceding possession when under no pressure. Then,   Liverpool began to assert themselves and after half time, they emerged on a mission, whereupon the two sides engaged in frantic hand to hand combat deep inside the Spurs half. High speed attack v defence with Liverpool desperate to find a way through.

This was football to the power of ten. Under this magnifying glass, every run was a rich mixture of power, control and technique, each challenge a tipping point of its own, every incident worthy of a blog of its own. Win it and the equilibrium of the entire match tilted, until the next such challenge merely seconds later. For 30 minutes there was no respite for any player, save Reina the Liverpool keeper who watched from afar.

A Liverpool player, often Enrique on the left or Sterling on the right, would dart forward. The sides regrouped. Liverpool set the test, Spurs shifted around in response, the two teams as organisms, their players becoming a single whole. Liverpool probed for a breakthrough, Spurs rushed to counter like white blood cells gathering to see off an infection to the body. If one defender lost his individual battle, others moved to his aid as in the same instant our opponents already had moved to exploit any space and potential for a decisive strike.

In such an atmosphere, mistakes were made but for me the debit/credit balance sheet for Gallas, Dawson and Lloris came out firmly in their favour. Spurs may have been stretched this way and that but we never broke. Far from it; as the pressure increased so did our committment. Under this bombardment we stood firm. The bodies flew in to tackle and block. Never once did we experience those all too familiar moments when the entire defence disappears into another dimension for no earthly reason.

Gallas and Dawson did not permit themselves to be shifted out of the middle. They didn’t have to with Walker (at last!) in fine form and Vertonghen strong in the challenge.

The influence of both managers was clear and their men responded. As I’ve said, Spurs reacted ll to some excellent Liverpool pressure but we fell back into the AVB fault of dropping too deep. This was compounded by replacing Dempsey with Sigurdsson. With only Defoe up front we never had an outlet and therefore respite from the onslaught. Adebayor would have been perfect.

Liverpool dominated long periods of the match and if I were a red, on the long journey home I’d have been a’cursing and a’muttering at the injustice of it all. Henderson shot wide of a goal left bare and unprotected by a mad Lloris dash beyond his box, Dembele’s brave tackle from behind (on Gerrard I think) could easily have been called a penalty by some referees and they had a good few chances as the game went on. However, their goal was a crazy fluke – Lennon cleared off the line but our relief lasted a millisecond only as the ball flew into Bale’s face and back into the net.

In the end, Spurs did push up. A rush of pressure led by Lennon was greeted with a standing ovation from the centre Shelf. Walker told a ball-boy to hang on to it as the lad dashed enthusiastically to give his hero the ball. Even though Azza didn’t touch the ball, the pendulum had swung back just enough to make sure we played out the last 10 minutes without any serious alarms. The crowd really got behind the team and they were lifted.

Lennon had a fine match, making a mockery of the criticism I have made of his unwillingness to defend. Great nutmeg on Gerrard too. Bale’s defending was slack in the first half but he got the message after the break. Defoe didn’t touch the ball in the second half. Sandro had his least effective game this season but did his bit at the back. Dempsey needs others to give him the ball. He finds the space, you deliver and he’ll serve it up. His work is becoming more productive with each match.

And I’m still buzzing from that sense of complete immersion in a thrilling, fizzing spectacle. Total commitment from players and fans. Wonderful.