Season 2012-13

AVB’s Spurs. All In The Cut

/ Alan / 10 Comments

Cut to fit mohair, deep blue not black, hand-stitched. Three button, bottom one undone, buttons on the sleeve, tapered trousers. AVB fits Spurs like a made-to-measure suit and we look sharp.

Genuine silk lining, brushes against the skin as you put on the jacket. Can’t be seen but we know it’s quality. Run your fingers gently on your thighs, that brushed fabric soft and giving. Understated but oozing class and it feels so fine.

Spurs are easing into this new look with the elan of a mod in sixties Carnaby Street. Contemporary but classic – we know who we are and what we are about. A bit cocky but that never did us any harm. We sense this is right for us. Pass and move, on the floor, play from the back. Sandro imperious, dominant. Dembele the playmaker, it’s all in the touch. Details make the difference – the short pass, the ball inside the full-back, keep possession. The buttonhole stitching, silk in top pocket.

Reading on Sunday, Lazio this week. We’ve found our style and like the admiring glances. Perhaps that’s why the home draw against Lazio ended with a contented reaction at the final whistle rather than the grumbles that greeted the last two home draws. We played much better but there was more than enough to provoke disappointment – disallowed goals, the missed opportunity to secure an early home win against the best team in the group, the Italians consistent fouling in the second half. It felt as if we took the long view – at least we know what we are about now, know we can do it if need be. And what we need is three points tomorrow.

This was more like a pleasant evening stroll than a glory glory night. Spurs were on top for the majority of the match without ever threatening to cut loose, while Lazio were satisfied with containment as the game went on, settling back into a comfortable 4-5-1 and dropping deeper as time passed. By the second half, they sussed where the real dangers might come from and took it in turns to foul Bale, Lennon and Dembele, early and high up the pitch to snuff out potential breaks without placing undue pressure on their goal.

For most of the time it was all neat and tidy. Can’t mark that cloth after all. I wondered aloud at one point if this match could set a record low for shots on target. Me, I prefer something a little rougher round the edges. Smart only takes you so far. Bit ragged. Feisty, fire and spark, but this wasn’t one of those games. In the last ten minutes especially, Spurs became a little too comfortable. Lazio slowed it down and we allowed ourselves to play at their pace. Sure, we’re playing the long game – long season, long competition. Don’t want to lose the first match, I get that. But with only Klose up front, we could have pushed our spare man at the back, Vertonghen, into midfield when we had the ball, thereby allowing the others to push up still further. On several occasions in that final period we held 5 men back when we attacked. For once we had a side full of big men yet played two free kicks short rather than putting the ball in the box. Like wearing a floral tie with a mod suit, I don’t get it.

Yet by then we could have been promenading to good effect. Two perfectly good goals disallowed, the first a fine diving effort from Dempsey, who I would like to start alongside Defoe on Sunday. I confess I couldn’t judge it from my viewpoint and as I’ve said, the crowd were philosophical on the night rather than getting worked up over an injustice. Maybe other parts of the ground were. Caulker’s header looked fine to me. However, these days there’s so much fouling in the box from set pieces, I forget what the laws are. We get the benefit sometimes, as did Walker on Sunday – handball or a little push, which does the ref give? We feel good now but those referring errors could hurt come December.

Lennon as the most unlikely ace face, but credit to him for effort and encouragement. AVB set him wide to create space and we used the ball inside the full-back to good effect in the first half until Lazio shut the door. Lenny should have scored, once inexplicably opting to pass when shooting was by the far the simpler choice.

Sandro was magnificent once more. Such is his influence, it could tempt AVB to go with only one DM thus releasing more attack-minded players. Dembele oozes power and class, great left foot, lovely touch. Purring with delight over him, he’s a player and no mistake. Caulker eased himself into the team although he looked nervous. Lloris had little to do. He’s prepared to boss his box, readily coming off his line. His first such run nearly ended in disaster but fortunately Klose fluffed it (not the only time he did so) but it’s what we need. Two fine keepers is a good problem to have.

The game was soured by the racism of a few Lazio fans. I didn’t hear it or see the nazi salutes that Park Laners have reported, but action must be taken by UEFA and the club itself. Di Canio’s nazi salute (alleged nazi salute, sorry, he claims it wasn’t. Pins and needles in his arm, I’m sure), that was to Lazio fans, wasn’t it? The club must take action. It’s not just UEFA’s responsibility.

It’s also a shame because there was a poignant moment when both sets of fans chanted Paul Gascoigne’s name and applauded each other. The memory of a wonderful player endures.

One final and futile comment – Spurs are never going to have European glory nights if the opposition fans occupy most of the Park Lane. I know the safety issues but there must be a way to at least tuck them safely in the corner. No other team in the land would shift their own supporters to that extent.

What a Goal. What a Performance. What a Relief.

/ Alan / 18 Comments

Amongst all the guff that’s spouted in the media about Tottenham manager Andre Villas-Boas, the dossiers, the trenchcoats, the goalkeeper, what the hell the fact he’s foreign, Spurs fans are beginning to sort out the reality. Yesterday he demonstrated a quality that will endear him to the people that matter the most (and no, I’m not talking about tabloid sports journos) – loyalty.I wouldn’t have picked Defoe, or Lennon or Gallas for that matter. In fact I said as much in When Saturday Comes – so much for that match preview. But AVB knows his own mind. He stuck with three key men, three key elements of his formation, and it paid off handsomely. Defoe as the lone striker, never would have thought it but no complaints. He applied the finishing touches to an excellent all-round team performance against an admittedly poor Reading side, including an outstanding second goal. Picking up the ball on the halfway line, he ran with perfect balance and touch into the heart of the area before decisively side-footing it across the keeper. Bale was the decoy – he could have stayed wide left but cut across the other way, leaving JD with room to breathe.

This was one of those games that will do Spurs a power of good, with influence over and above the three vital points. It was not just the win but the manner in which it was achieved and the fact that it was on Sky for all to see. AVB can’t be as bad as the tabloids say if we can play this fluently. Trust your eyes not the papers.

It was also one of those that felt better at the final whistle. Take the overview and we dominated but there were times in the second half when we were only one up, when Defoe missed a few, when the passes were going astray, that this had all the hallmarks of a Spurs cock-up. Of the season so far, in fact, when we have been on top, admittedly not quite to this extent, only to concede late on.  Lots to be delighted about, but be honest – relief was the abiding emotion.

It’s all about the team, as AVB searches for his best side. The combination of Dembele, Sandro and Sigurdsson in the centre won the match for us and prospects look good for the future. Sandro looks fearsome again. He’s our strength, our rock. A sight to behold, breaking up Reading attacks then trotting back diligently to his defensive duties, ready for the next onslaught. Meanwhile we raced upfield in flowing moves that he began. He also popped back between the centre backs when Reading came near, ready to bolster the defence.

Nearby, Dembele is a classy midfielder, unobtrusively effective as he went about his business. His touch, movement and eye for what’s going on in front of him are sure signs that he will fit in nicely. Siggy was better in the first half when he passed the ball more readily, most notably for the through-ball that cut Reading apart in preparation for Lennon’s cross and Defoe’s finish. Come the second he tried to take players on and predictably was caught in possession.

Most significant was the way the three of them combined. Already there’s a decent understanding. If one moves up, at least one other stays back. All are aware of the space that runs create, and are eager to take advantage, or will cover if we lose the ball. It’s hard to put numbers to the midfield set-up, such was their flexibility. Reading couldn’t cope at all. This nullified their main weapon, their effort and ability to close teams down. If they weren’t sure where we would be, they couldn’t get at us easily.

Vertongen is classy, quick and alert. He had a fine game, already becoming a real favourite of mine.

I have no memory of what AVB said in his post-match interview. I just recall his smile, like a little boy who’s won first prize in a talent contest. After a few seconds it faded, to be replaced by the media-savvy pro he is, but he really wanted this one. It’s the moment when I really warmed to him. He’s one of us, and I can certainly warm to his team if he can build on this performance. Dempsey’s the next conundrum. He’s not fit, having not had a proper pre-season, but he showed his worth in the last ten minutes, moving off the centre into areas where defenders can’t easily pick him up. I’d share JD’s burden and play him – neither Lennon nor Bale are prolific scorers and he needs some help. Lazio on Thursday will present a chance to try something slightly different.

If you spotted an unusual number of references to the media in the early paragraphs, it’s because I’m bitter about the way AVB and our club are being treated. I don’t normally respond to the coverage of the club, the gossip, the ITK, it’s so tedious and there’s plenty of it elsewhere on the web. However, it’s all become a bit much during the international silly season, culminating in the Spurs goalkeeping crisis. We sign a high quality experienced international at a reasonable price because our first and second choice keepers have a combined age of nearly 80. Friedel is outstanding, Lloris can’t get in the team but we had a crisis before Lloris was actually able to play. Even for Fleet Street, this is something out of less than nothing. Even the Hadron collider couldn’t find the particle of reality in this concoction. “Spurs Buy Well in Transfer Market and Plan Ahead”. “Spurs Have Healthy Challenge for Goalkeeping Position. Anybody?  Not in the script.

Hillsborough – The Bond Between Spurs and Liverpool Fans

/ Alan / 34 Comments

5Live have just said that Hillsborough did not have a safety certificate in 1981.

On April 11th 1981 I caught the football special from London to Sheffield. The warmth of companionship between Spurs fans almost made up for the lack of heat in these ancient carriages, pulled out of mothballs just for us. This wasn’t football, it was part of history. These carriages had been pulled by a steam train. Narrow your eyes and there’s the buffet, Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson sharing a can of Special Brew at 8.30 am.

The complaints were raucous but good-natured. It wouldn’t have been tolerated in any other circumstances but this was how football fans expected to be treated in those days. Many of us traveled and anyway, who cares? This was a big game at a suitably historic ground, our first semi-final since the cup-winning year of 1967 and my first ever. After a fallow decade, Spurs were on the up.

We reached the city and were herded via the goods entrance into a long column. The police escorted us to the ground with anyone who had the nerve to break ranks and make a break for a shop selling food or drink being forced back into line. Again, par for the course and at least it was a safe route, shielded from any Wolves, United or Wednesday fans keen to get stuck into the cocky lads from the south. And no one could stop us singing. For a few minutes it felt like we were taking over the town. A short wait at the Leppings Lane turnstiles, including the usual unnecessary pushing towards the wall – why bother, we all had tickets and were early – and in.

First impressions were unfavourable. Peeling blue and white paint, shabby toilets, cracked stone steps. Normal, in other words. Although the ground was filling up I had the space to pick a spot halfway up and well to the right of the goal. The central areas were always jam-packed and the atmosphere would be electric across the entire end. It turned out to be a sound decision.

As kick-off approached a series of crowd surges forced me, disgruntled but accepting, away from my vantage point and closer to the pitch. I assumed that latecomers were carving out some room at the top of the banking and the effect had rippled through to me. I couldn’t see what was happening because I had long since lost the chance to turn round but despite being packed together, it  felt safe. There was no room to fall, after all. Lots of grumbling about why Wolves had been given the larger kop terrace opposite.

The game got under way and I was totally focused on the match, as ever. By this time, the pressure was such that I could not move my arms, which I had managed to lift in front of me to offer some protection during the last surge before movement became impossible. I spent the rest of the match less than ten yards from the front, my feet lower than pitch level because of the way the terrace was built.

Fans began streaming onto the pitch perimeter and looked back at the lads with arms raised in support. They sang a quick song before squatting on the shale. This signaled trouble and my heart sank. Looked like people had made a break for it. Bound to be bad for the club. More calls for grounds to be closed, for the hooligans to be punished. Worse was to come -the Spurs invaded the pitch when we scored.

In fact, the fans behaved very well. Five or six deep, they remained seated for most of the time. Some moved, under escort, to other parts of the stadium. Spurs everywhere!

And that was how I watched the rest of the semi-final. The biggest crush I have ever experienced, rooted to a single spot even when we scored a second. I vividly recall the tension as the match went on, 2-1 up with Wembley so close, the duel between two mighty warriors of the penalty box, Max Miller and Andy Gray, sparks flying as their heads clashed, both equally desperate to reach the crosses. The penalty that never was. Miles away at the other end or so it seemed, yet Hoddle won the ball clear as day. Hibbet tumbled and Clive Thomas pointed theatrically to the spot. How he loved the glory.

The final whistle, the march back to the station. I confess that despite the conditions, at the time I recall the thrills and passion of being part of something, the heated tension that only semi-finals can generate. Stories to tell of the day I went to the Hillsborough semi-final. I was there stories.

Plenty of time to contemplate the injustice of it all as the train took the long way home, as all football specials did.  That was my suffering and of course I would not be without it, because without the pain there cannot be joy. I didn’t see any fans with broken limbs or any who needed medical treatment, i thought had been in a scrap. That’s what it was like in those days. Oddly, although I must have gone to the game with a couple of friends, I don’t recall them at all. Intensely packed yet I felt isolated and alone.

On April 15th 1989, I played football on a sunny Saturday afternoon in southeast London. It was a friendly and shambolic 5-a-side  between my lot, a mixture of council employees from social services and housing, versus a side from the local community. Lots of kids – I brought along my two – and a lovely atmosphere, in a small but significant way the healing power of this wonderful game. For some time we had sought ways of getting closer to the community in which we worked and who were suspicious of us. Only football could bring us together.

I arrived home in the late afternoon and turned on the television. Pictures were being relayed from Hillsborough and I was initially pleased – the game must have started late so I could catch up with it. Then it dawned that there had been trouble and I switched over before the kids saw too much, although at the time the extent of the disaster was not apparent.

Now we know. Spurs fans of my generation will always have an extra bond with the Liverpool families, because it could have been us. Me. Standing near the front, feet below pitch level. Me. My heart goes out to the suffering relatives. An open gate at the back and the front. An open gate. All this talk of closure is so much hot air. The way it’s used in connection with trauma is not what it means. I’ve experienced loss of children, knowledge helps to understand but the pain doesn’t go away.

The families have been treated abominably, by the police and by the Sun who chose to sell papers regardless of the truth. I hope you find both comfort and justice.

Reinvention Is Survival

/ Alan / 16 Comments

Reinvention is survival. It’s one of the most often quoted aphorisms in business because complacency can be as fatal to any enterprise as a economic downturn. Any leader knows that change is necessary but painful. The best way forward is to establish a clear goal that’s mutually agreed by everyone and build on existing strengths so that development is gradual rather than a transformative shock. However, there’s no escape from the harmful side-effects as adjustments are made before a new equilibrium is reached. Change is hard.

I missed Saturday’s match as I was at the Olympic Stadium for an evening of Paralympics, tickets bought a year ago before a disappointing but inevitable fixture clash. Although I’m never one to turn down an opportunity to watch sport, I wasn’t aware that shopping was part of the athletics programme. The fact that come kick-off I was jostling for space in a hideously heaving Westfield Shopping Centre could become the latest in the Life’s Great Mysteries series, coming soon to the Discovery Channel.

The Paralympics is a remarkable event, not merely for the heroic efforts of true athletes but for the interaction between these performances and the crowd. Every single effort is greeted by waves of genuine warmth and appreciation, win or lose, first or last. From what I’ve heard, there couldn’t be a greater contrast between that and the atmosphere at the Lane, where frustration turned into toxic bile at the finish. Still wish I’d been there, though.

Without going too far on the basis of Football First highlights, the irritating international break that provides a false start to every season  also offers a pause for reflection and reassessment. It’s a pity AVB doesn’t have more time with his players to create the blend that will turn frustration into fluency. The growing pains of our new Tottenham are hard to experience. I just hope the players are hurting as much as we are. However, it is only to be expected. My pre-season predictions have sadly been proved accurate. I wish I was wrong but this team needs time to settle. Brace yourselves for a rough ride early season. Hopefully calmer waters lie over the horizon.

Spurs had a decent transfer window. I’m disappointed that Levy did not produce a top quality striker out of the hat. Again in the interests of consistency, whilst I appreciate his financial prudence, I stick with my pre-season comments that he has room to manoeuvre regarding fees and salaries now, not just because we have the cash but also because the high earners have all gone so he can increase the top salaries without alienating the rest of the squad.  Moutinho is a loss, very impressive in the Euros and I would have gone the extra mile for him.We’ll never know where exactly negotiations reached and should take no notice of the bilious tabloids on a Levy/AVB search and destroy mission but the aftershocks of Ch**seas’s CL win are still being felt.

However, we have a 20+ goals a season man in Clint Dempsey, by no means Plan A but an absolute steal at £6m, and Dembele is a high quality footballer I have coveted for a while now. Lloris is good value – we undoubtedly needed a new keeper and competition can be nothing but good for us as Friedel proves once more that he is a wonderful professional. The squad has more strength in depth too. In keeping with policy, Spurs is a step up for all of the new guys so they should be bursting with ambition.

This season was always about the manager and his system. The focus remains on AVB to make the team greater than the sum of its parts and it’s clear he’s not sure what his best team is at the moment. Hardly unusual for any new manager – I said the same about Redknapp – but he’s been given a good squad and has to make a few tough decisions when the break is over. Up front, I don’t see Defoe as a starter. Dempsey was highly effective for Fulham playing around a central striker, with the freedom to come late and move across the field rather than being restricted to hanging around at the edge of the box. Therefore Manu must have a run alongside him. Further back, Dembele provides the vital link between defence and attack. Quick feet, sharp shot and a fine passer, he’s key to our fortunes.

I don’t know enough about Siggy just yet. However, I’d be inclined to play him in midfield.  This could either be at Livermore’s expense, so we have one DM (Sandro) or keep the defensive solidity of two DMs and let Walker offer width at Lennon’s expense. It depends on who we play.

One problem with those two DMs is that they are not defending well enough. They should protect the back four better, that’s what they are there for. Although we are hardly leaking goals, Friedel has had to be on top form and both goals conceded at home came from similar situations, plenty of men back but not clearing the ball and it’s loose at the edge of the area. Kaboul’s injury is a blow – this was to be his season and he’s getting hurt too often for my liking. I anticipate a long and prosperous Spurs career for the excellent Vertonghen, which leaves AVB with a decision to make about Gallas. Unfair to blame him but I’d opt for Caulker or Dawson with a reminder to the full-backs to tuck in tighter when we don’t have the ball.

Regular readers will know that I tend towards mild optimism but above all I’m a realist. So despite the frustration, it’s not wildly out of order to say that our possession is good and we are making chances, both signs of promise. Dempsey, Dembele and Siggy could all make an impact in the box to convert just one or two more chances each game. If we tighten up at the back and do not give away unnecessary free kicks, then we can move forward. Tweaks rather than major surgery. Let that run for a while and we can take stock.

That and get off AVB’s back. He’s ours and he gets enough stick from the media. Luckily Liverpool are falling apart so some of the negative attention is directed their way but if we don’t give him a chance, then he has no hope whatsoever.

Finally, a belated but none the less fond farewell to Rafa Van der Vaart, a fine player in the Tottenham tradition, whose touch, skill and eye for an opening enhanced the team whenever he played. It’s a risk to let a man of this quality go – I wouldn’t have sold him but I guess he wanted to move. He wanted to win and could maintain his form under pressure, and that combination of motivation and ability is hard to say goodbye to. Although he arrived so unexpectedly even the manager seemed surprised, he quickly became a Spur, showing genuine delight when he scored in big games. The long shots and chips make me smile at the memory but I loved those sweeping diagonal passes, 50 yards right into the stride or the chest of the receiver. But here’s one to cherish, from his last game. In front of the Shelf, under pressure he takes the ball on halfway. Bale is on, simple 10 yard pass then peel away to see what happens. For Rafa, that’s not enough. He holds it for half a second, looks Bale in the eye and gestures with a tiny move of his head. Bale’s off, down the line and Rafa knocks the ball between two defenders and perfectly into his stride. Endless possibilities. Class, Rafa, always class.