Football On My Mind: Hodgson Speaks To Fans – How Dare He?

October 9, 2012 / Alan / 8 Comments

Football On My Mind is an occasional series of articles about current events in the game, not just about Spurs. Endlessly curious, it’s called On My Mind because it is, always.

Last week England manager Roy Hodgson committed what appears to be a cardinal sin in contemporary football. He gave an honest answer to a question from a fan.

Hodgson has been accused of being at the very least naive and at worst of crass stupidity. He’s since apologised but it’s not entirely clear for what exactly. Certainly Rio Ferdinand should have been the first to know that he was not selected for the forthcoming England squad. Any leader worth their salt knows that honesty and trust are powerful motivators, whether the organisation be a charity like the one I manage, a private company or a football team. While the defender’s omission is hardly a surprise, least of all to him I suspect, this apparent breach of duty will reverberate through the rest of the squad. I doubt it will have any immediate noticeable effect but they won’t forget when times are tough and their manager calls for trust in his methods.

In many ways Hodgson presents as a man out of time, a relic even, although this serves to mask a comprehensive understanding of the modern game. It’s hard to imagine him as a young man. He was born an avuncular uncle figure. There’s a comfortable stability in his old-fashioned values of hard work, footballers doing their best and an integrity born of working with players and an endless fascination with the game itself. Most of the time this continuity with the past is reassuring in a time of rapid change and short attention spans and it’s not as if he bangs on about the good old days all the time as many younger pundits choose to do. Roy will never be a trendy uncle, perish the thought that he will lose his charm, but he looks forward as well as back and his broad-minded approach to innovation probably held back his career in England.

The old days were never as good as many would have you believe. Hodgson’s apparent wish that John Terry should be found not guilty by a court or the FA smacks of the unwritten football code of silence, what happens on the pitch stays on the pitch, superseding the imperative to counter racism in all its guises. However, communicating with the supporters is a fundamental element of that old-school attitude and there’s nothing wrong with that whatsoever. Hodgson wants to talk football and does not think he is above the fans, whereas many professionals treat us with barely concealed contempt. The yawning gap between fans and the clubs to which they have devoted a large part of their lives has created a growing sense of alienation that is destined to cause irrevocable harm to the game as a whole unless it is challenged.

These days the them and us attitude prevails. Many Premier League clubs do their utmost to control the contact between their staff and the fans. We faithfully turn up and the only communication is one-way via our bank accounts. Perish the thought that we may wish to interact in any other way. Even in the media, the pundits, paid handsomely to talk, barely disguise their contempt for the task of communicating. And all this is accepted by the producers and directors who tolerate vapid platitudes or, in the case of Mark Lawrenson during Euro 2012, apparent disdain for football itself.

The England manager does something about it, in his own small way. He’s on the tube, not a limo or even a cab, knowing he will be recognised. When he is, he’s happy to talk openly about the game he loves, knowing that fans share that passion. He’s not different because of his status, he’s the same as us. Passionate after all these years about the game we love.

So he talks and ends up all over the back pages because in return for his openness, someone calls the tabloids. No doubt they are boasting to their mates about it and they have trousered a few hundred quid in return.

Hodgson will never be as straightforward again with the public and it’s a reminder to everyone else in the business to keep mouthing the dull platitudes. Keep to themselves any real opinions, anything of any vague interest or that may be marginally different from what anyone else is saying. Perhaps I’m the one who is now being naive in believing there is any such thing as a private conversation any longer.

Uncle Roy was young once. He used to play for Tonbridge Angels, now in the Conference South. I went to see them 10 days ago. My wife’s nephew was mascot. After the game, all the players gathered in the club lounge and happily posed for pictures, chatted to supporters and signed autographs. As the match finished, the away team fans huddled behind the goal. Nothing sinister here – they had been joined by Sutton’s manager who talked to them about the club’s current problems. He gave them bad news, they gave him a round of applause.

This contact is why more fans are turning their backs on the big clubs. It’s not the same in the Premier League but it is possible to work much harder to close the gap between fans and clubs. Hodgson was naive but like any relationship, it works both ways. Perhaps we get the game we deserve.

Spurs Perfect The Rhythm Method

October 8, 2012 / Alan / 6 Comments

Rhythmic control is what Alan Pardew calls it. Football jargon grates but that’s a neat phrase to describe what Spurs are like when it’s working, and it’s how we dominated large swathes of this game. I assume he’s talking about football rather than a method of contraception favoured by Catholics.

We not only keep hold of the ball but move it around the team effortlessly and smoothly. Spurs do this best at a decent tempo. The movement was productive and thoughtful with everyone becoming involved. We look comfortable, at ease with ourselves. A bit of swagger doesn’t go amiss. As one.

We retained possession and created chances for most of the match. Gallas and Caulker joined the attack when Villa had been pegged back deep into their half. Vertonghen and Walker supported the attack, sliding into space out wide or in the Belgian’s case, making early darting breaks into danger areas. Sandro and Dembele diligently covered for each other, the two of them never going right forward at the same time. Bale and Vertonghen combined well down the left.

The pattern was set early on and it was a real shame that Bale and Defoe did not convert the chances to put us two up after as many minutes. Bale was dangerous as Villa struggled to cope with the increasingly intelligent movement allied to fearsome power and ability. Near misses as the crosses whizzed in but we failed to pick out the unmarked men in the box. But no goals, and the half tailed away rather as we dropped the pace and reverted to bad old habits – JD shooting from range when he has two defenders standing right in front of him, Lennon seeing plenty of the ball without getting his crosses past the first defender.

Last season Paul Lambert outmanoeuvred and outsmarted Redknapp as Norwich beat us at home. Yesterday he tried to win the tactical battle again, pressing high up the pitch to disrupt our rhythm and prevent us building from the back. It worked to some extent – Villa’s few chances stemmed from pressure that forced us to give the ball away in our own half. It also curtailed Sandro’s first half influence and his distribution was not as good as usual. However, Spurs could play through or round them, counterattacking effectively down the wings and exposing Villa’s defence.

By the final whistle, Villa’s challenge had been brushed aside and we coasted home. However, it took a while before Spurs undoubted superiority in all areas of the field turned itself into goals and the game turned on a staggering miss by Beneteke, the Villa centre-forward.

Possession is our mantra and Lloris is a disciple. Even his hacked clearances are aimed at a team-mate. I’m all for it, providing it’s safety first but now, and not for the only time, the Frenchman’s distribution put a team-mate under pressure. Villa seized on a wasteful clearance and dispatched a perfect cross to the unmarked Beneteke, who leapt skyward, drew back his frankly ample-sized head, made perfect contact and smacked the ball wide of the post. We got away with it and Villa never again had a sniff of a chance to win this match.

Lately we have developed the knack of scoring at the right time. Defoe suddenly had masses of room; despite this his shot would have gone wide but for Caulker’s shin. Handy. Sandro upped his game, something he is capable of as he matures, to put things behind him and improve. He ruled the turf from then on. Lennon had seen plenty of action without end product, then he switches to his right foot and a perfect rifled shot into the far corner to banish memories of an irritatingly inconsistent afternoon until then. There should have been more.

Full credit to Andre Villas-Boas for enabling the team to feel this comfortable in a comparatively short space of time. Until as recently as a couple of weeks ago, I was saying that he was still searching for his best team. No longer. Benny’s injury and the aborted experiment with Bale at full-back meant Superjan can be, well, super at left back and Dempsey has slipped into an advanced central position, although Adebayor’s appearance as sub reminded us all of what his movement and control can give us.

AVB doesn’t flinch from difficult decisions. He felt the time was right, looked Brad in the eye and told him the moment had come. Lloris as the final piece of the puzzle, at least for a while. Criticised widely for indecision, our manager showed he was in control all along. The French captain will get to know the full extent of his area. Twice in as many minutes in the first half he dashed from his mine to sweep up the danger. There will be many heart-in-the-mouth moments before the season is over, especially as his priority is to get shots or crosses away rather than catch them, but he can certainly tell his defence what he wants – I could hear him from the half-way line.

Bets of the rest: Dempsey had a quiet game but he’s so good at finding space in the area. Should have scored with a header.

Goals are coming from different players. Including the subs, 10 of that team have scored this season.

Sandro’s one-knee triple spin a marvel. It’s the fierce unstinting commitment that drives him on.

Bale – stop diving. You are fouled consistently but that’s more reason to stay on your feet. Curse of the modern game. Don’t like it when others do it, worse when Spurs players go over.

A Defining Week For Spurs and AVB

September 30, 2012September 30, 2012 / Alan / 18 Comments

The value of some performances transcends the goals, the points or the league table. Spurs victory at Old Trafford yesterday evening was infused with meaning that runs deep and will resonate long after the celebrations die down, although I suspect those who were fortunate enough to be there floated home rather than requiring any form of transport.

Not just the years since we last won there. I can’t remember how long it is even though the commentator appeared to be contractually obliged to repeat it every 5 minutes. Perhaps the fear and nausea in the pit of my stomach as the ball pinged around our box in the second half dulled my other senses.

Not even the manner of the win, magnificent though that was. Delightful flowing football in the first half as we took the game to United and were by far the better side, followed by desperate dogged defence in the second as we were remorselessly pushed deeper and deeper by United at their best.

Not even showing a skeptical footballing public and a rabid media that we can play. This was the moment when the new Tottenham Hotspur believed it could play. As the self-confidence spreads, the fall-out from this game could be picked up in years to come, like faint radio static from the far reaches of the cosmos.

This is that rare sort of win, one that creates an unshakable resilience that Spurs are doing the right thing, and if the players keep on doing it, they will succeed in the end, whatever the odds. Faith in your own ability, that of your team-mates and your manager, to overcome and prevail. Something we’ve seen in others but has always been beyond our grasp in modern times, almost real but eluding our grasp like a vivid dream fading as we wake and open our eyes.

More about yesterday in a moment, but if we are looking for the signs in the runes, the portents have been excellent all week. It’s not all about 3-2 in Manchester. A goal down and stinking the place out like a parcel of rotting fish nailed under the floorboards, at half-time just 7 days ago the world was a different, bleaker place. Then AVB looked his players in the eye and said, “I’ve made a mistake but together we will put it right.” Superman goes left, Bale pushed forward, 2 goals and 3 points.

A tricky midweek tie in the far flooded north, Carlisle were summarily dispatched. The young men came in without, as I understand it, there being much of a problem, because they play the Tottenham way. In the past, this game could have posed a threat to the well-being of the team. These are ties that expose weakness, as in the hapless away game at Stevenage as recently as last season. Yet this was a comfortable win.

Back to yesterday, and we took the game to United in the first half, boosted by Jan the Man’s second goal in a week, a great run into the heart of the defence and huge deflection. Bale set up this one then scored our second himself with the type of run that makes him unique in the Premier League. Over 6 foot and filled out from boy to man over the summer, there is simply nothing like this fearsome combination of power and pace, physical presence and touch on the ball.

We fully deserved the 2 goal lead at half-time. Sandro was a powerhouse throughout, Dembele dominant in front of him. How I’ve quickly grown to relish his arthritic shuffle on the ball, stiff, head bowed and so effective. A real gem.

One of the issues I’ve identified this season is that Spurs must find the right set-up to get the best from Dempsey, a goalscorer who is not a classic striker. Last week he was wasted stuck out on the left. Now AVB moved him to a more central starting position. He should be able to get on the ball more here. All this stems from the influence exerted by the mighty Sandro, who is playing so well that we can manage with only one defensive midfielder not two, thus freeing options further forward.

He popped up with the third, pouncing on a loose ball to restore our two goal advantage That was swiftly reduced to one, then it was backs to wall for a sickeningly tense last 30 minutes.

We dropped ever more deep as wave after wave of United attacks swept down on our goal. Partly this was due to an inability to hold onto the ball on the precious few occasions we got hold of it, partly due to the debilitating effects of illness – a couple had suffered a bug during the week. Mainly it was down to the excellence of our opponents, who played the ball into the channels between our back four on endless occasions. It’s hard to believe England never built their team around Paul Scholes.

We defended well but like any team that beats them, we relied on United missing their chances, which obligingly they did. Ultimately those same cosmic forces tend to balance themselves out. The ball banged against post and bar, skimmed just wide or sunk into Friedel’s all-enveloping grasp. And Chris Foy, always said he knew what he was about when it comes to penalty decisions. After yesterday I like to think that the universe is a more stable place as equilibrium is restored.

Walker’s poor positioning led to problems and sometimes both full-backs were exposed by a lack of cover. However, the grim determination of Vertonghen, Caulker and the steely eyed Gallas epitomised the spirit in the squad. You have to hand to Willy – after a long career and dodgy ankles, he is a winner and you can see why AVB has persisted with him. Caulker will learn so much from him, but did his bit by winning a series of headers.

A word of praise for Defoe, who has not always shown the selfless running and intelligence that helped make a couple of goals yesterday. This is the best form of his career. I’m not this biggest fan but all credit to him.

The unity between team and manager has paid rich dividends on the field this week. The Mirror and Sun are hell-bent on ruining him and our achievements, but the lies of their weaselly snout in the camp were disproved for all to see.

A single win does not mean everything is done and dusted. There will be good times and bad, struggles and wasted energy, but AVB’s Spurs is a team with a future and whatever happens I’m glad I’m coming along for the ride.

AVB’s Half-time Changes Wash Away The Stench

September 25, 2012September 25, 2012 / Alan / 20 Comments

Belated though this blog may be, the stench of Sunday’s first half is still blowing in the wind. Can’t get it out of my nostrils. Boy did we stink the place out. If the Lane provided showers, unlikely as some parts of the ground only got hot water a couple of seasons ago, but if they did, at half-time I would have washed that game right outa my hair.

Never mind all the tactical bollo. Means diddly if players can’t pass ten yards to a team-mate. Throughout the half it went on, a determination to give the ball away, that precious object so beloved of AVB, revered, the Holy Grail. Just hang on to it lads and go from there. Nope. It became so bad at the end of the half, they were pausing before precisely picking out the opponent when it was simpler to pass to a white shirt.

Maybe it’s reassuring that they are the same as us. Mere mortals who bow under pressure, tiredness perhaps after a busy week means they can’t think straight or just a bad day. But I don’t want them to be like me. It’s like politicians who want to be men and women of the people. Shaking hands uncomfortably with the plebs in a meat-packing factory. Call me Dave’s shirtsleeves for the CL Final. Our passing was the footballing equivalent of William Hague in a baseball cap.

I don’t want them to be like me. I want them to be cleverer, more decisive, energetic and not collapse in front of the Dave channel every night. Same for Spurs players. Get it right. Put everything into every game. Succeed with gravity-defying leaps and improbable shots. At least the wind changed at half-time.

Writing about the game a couple of days on lends a sense of perspective. Three points helps with some welcome balance. Villas-Boas has yet to find his best team and this was one major step forward. He discovered Bale has to start left midfield, not full-back. I hoped the team had some possibilities. Width could come from Walker and Bale, cover from the midfield freeing them to go up and it makes room for another forward in Dempsey.

That proved to be a triumph of optimism flying in the face of reality. We were totally disjointed and dire. Players looked forlornly left like a lost lamb searching for its mother. They turned back into the Rangers massed ranks and promptly lost the ball. Again and again.

Good managers not only acknowledge their mistakes but can put them right. Caulker moved in to replace the invisible Sigurdsson, enabling Vertonghen to move to full-back, Bale to move up and Spurs to win the game. Jan the Man is fast becoming a White Hart Lane legend, charging forward or popping up in defence, he made a huge difference. A top class footballer. Whoever scouted him, take a bow. You deserve a moment in the limelight. His goal-saving tackle on Hoillet, while not quite in the Ledley on Robben class, was masterful and miraculous. Typically when we were at last on top we had to make a ricket at the back. Hoillet settled comfortably on the ball, straightened his tie and made sure his hair looked good for the celebrations. No problem: he had enough time for that and a cup of bovril, then Vertonghen swooped in as if from nowhere to take the ball rom his toe.

Although the second half was much improved, a slice of good fortune turned the game our way as Caulker’s header (he wins a lot in the opposition box) clipped Faurlin’s back, who made a fatally half-hearted movement towards the ball out of character with an otherwise fine performance and it rolled in.

QPR lost focus momentarily, Vertonghen galloped forward and Defoe banged in the rebound as Bale’s shot came back off the bar. From then on, the day was ours and we should have had more. Rangers will be deeply disappointed. In the first half they were as excellent as we were lousy. Before Sunday I thought Granero was an over-priced muesli but discovered he’s cultured midfielder. Zamora dominated our defence. He linked well with players around him and scored a neat goal but we gave him far too much room that deep into our box. Never did that for us but if he performs like that he could yet do something for England.

Special praise for Friedel who played them on his own for the first half. One save, strong hands to his left at full stretch, was outstanding. Hang on Hugo, you’ll have to wait.

So remember folks, the difference between try and triumph is a bit of umph….Try that at work everyone, see how it goes down….Playing badly and winning is the usual line but underlying the winning ugly schtick is something more permanent. Often it’s strength and mental resilience, or the presence of a match-winner perhaps. Against QPR it was a manager brave enough to make decisive changes early enough to make a difference, and that’s a precious quality to have.