None of this should have happened. Never have I seen a Premier League team defend as listlessly as Spurs did against West Brom. Never have I seen a Premier League team concede the initiative as needlessly as West Brom.

First half – excruciating, mindless Spurs defending. Second – West Brom sat back and took their punishment. Draw probably fair although we finished by far the stronger. Think all the things players are not supposed to do – that was West Brom v Spurs. No pressing, no marking, little structure – even for our season this was an open mouth chin on the floor are those professionals DID HE REALLY JUST DO THAT sort of match.

Spurs began with the same line-up and formation as against Sunderland on Monday night. Eriksen was on the left, Kane just behind Adebayor and Chadli alongside Paulinho in the centre. Chiriches continued at centreback. I say centreback. Turned out he was so out of sorts, he must have picked up a dose of the plague. I say formation. What I mean is that for 45 minutes nobody knew what the hell was going on.

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This crass, inept and mindless defending plumbed new depths even in a season where passing the ball to the opposition as close to goal and in as much space as possible has become a defensive art-form. Players and coaching staff abnegated collective and individual responsibility for their. Quickly it descended into farce. After half an hour, they were a rabble.

I admire Sherwood (remember this moment – not a phrase you will see often on Tottenham On My Mind) in the sense that we may as well go for a win in each of our remaining matches but surely chucking everyone forward in a formation based on the ‘gung ho’ setting on Championship Manager 01 isn’t the way to go about it. One or two defensive-minded players can hold everything together, allowing defenders some protection so they can defend and allowing forwards plus attacking fullbacks the freedom to create. This set-up has nothing to hold it together, like a perfectly assembled Airfix kit that falls apart as soon as you pick up.

Our Ledley sadly did not win much in his illustrious career but he still holds the record for the fastest ever Premier League goal. His former team-mates obviously struck a bet to see if they could deprive him of that honour. Under two minutes versus Liverpool, here from kick-off an Albion forward took on Rose in our left hand corner. The full-back allowed himself under no real pressure to be turned. Meanwhile Eriksen had wandered back then stood off and watched from a few yards away, wide not between the ball and the goal. Didn’t occur to him to get goalside. Lloris pushed out the resultant cross which was thumped back into the empty net. 26 seconds – hard lines lads, Led has 11 but still four matches left. I’m sure you will give it a go.

Two down in 3mins 50 secs. Eriksen had the ball under little pressure then obligingly fell over. Chiriches failed to reach the cross first and the whole back four had become drawn under the ball to the near post. Brunt volleyed the ball home. None of the midfield bothered to cover, natch.

Kane shot wide from the edge of the box and then from much closer in a few minutes later, a chance he should have converted. We knew then that WBA weren’t much cop at this defending lark despite the game being given to them on a plate. I predicted 4-4 at that point. Hopelessly wrong…

A penalty offered us a way back after the missed chances in this breathless, gawky game. Rose, touched from behind by the defender, reacted as if he had just lent against an electrified fence. He had barely finished his performance of rolling around when Adebayor stepped up and precisely placed the ball into keeper Foster’s arms. It was his worst penalty since, oh, the last time he took a penalty, an effort in Europe that’s still heading skywards.

Spurs had four or five men up for every attack, West Brom strolled through the wide open space at the other end. Lloris saved well before Albion went three up, the worst of the worst. Kaboul exercised his responsibility as captain by charging towards their corner flag with the ball. Bear in mind everyone else was attacking so the run was completely unnecessary. Nobody had the wit or inclination to cover. Inevitably he lost it. Inevitably despite this he still just ambled back. Inevitably Albion played the ball over his head. Sessignon was one on one with Chiriches, the only defender, and scored.

The effort of mind it must have taken the rest of the team to suppress their natural inclinations and years of coaching to run back and cover is only to be admired. Train that thought power and soon they will be able to move objects just by thinking about it. I headlined our abject performance against Liverpool ‘pathetic’ but this redefined the concept.

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One exception to this criticism is Harry Kane, who stuck to his task and his position regardless of the mayhem around him. Refusing to be downhearted after those two earlier misses, he kept showing for the ball and was rewarded. First he came off the back four and found Lennon making a run out wide. The cross was deflected into his own net by the luckless Olsson. A complete fluke but not for the first time this season, we had a bit of luck to get us out of a hole.

Coming just before half-time, this gave us a boost. As with the Sunderland game, we dominated the second half without playing particularly well. Instead of pressing, Albion sat back, conceded ground and let us play. It was a fatal error that cost them two points and nearly the game because Spurs had more than enough chances to win this one at a canter despite everything I have said about the first half. Manager Mel said this change of approach was not due to his instructions but he didn’t seem to do anything to change it. Perhaps a relegation-haunted club’s fear of conceding another lead is too much for any manager.

Spurs took full advantage. Monopolising the possession, we spent the rest of the game trying to find a way through. Free from any left-wing defensive duties, Eriksen came inside and was much more influential, while Paulinho stayed deeper to allow Rose to come forward with a wild look in his eyes but in all honesty we didn’t need much protection at the back because West Brom hardly got the ball in our half. We pushed the Baggies further back into their half and had total control.

Our next goal came at the right time too. Just when we were flagging, Lennon to the byline, a perfect cross and Kane headed in, although three other Spurs men were in the queue for that same ball. Lennon has become a more all-round player but at the expense of his stock in trade, the run down the wing and cross, rather than to enhance it. Two assists from virtually the only two byline runs he made. A message there, I think.

Chances were made and missed by Eriksen, Rose and Lennon. The ref’s award of 6 minutes injury time seemed generous. In the second, Eriksen seemed to have delayed too much on a chance in the box but the crafty so and so just pulled it onto his right foot and shot high into the net. Spurs pressed for the winner to no avail.

Crazy to write that we deserved the draw after a diabolical first half but it’s true and it was that sort of game. Forget everything you have learned about watching top division football – the players certainly did – and I suppose it would have been good viewing for the neutral but nerve-shredding for the committed. As with the Sunderland game on Monday, we managed to lift ourselves and did not give up. That’s something at least but I can’t shift the hideous images of that first half defending.

 

Season 2013-14 will be one to remember for Spurs supporters but for all the wrong reasons. Since our self-imposed exile into Sherwood’s caretakership, we’ve been sitting in limbo for what feels like an eternity, staggering from one humiliation to another.

For once I can’t wait for the fixtures to end: the second half of the season has really dragged. The crowds approaching the Lane last night looked for all the world like figures in a Lowry painting, huddled against the wind and devoid of enthusiasm. There were gaps in all the stands, not unsold tickets but ticket holders who simply could not be bothered to turn up. Despite having paid a fortune, they preferred to stay at home. I’ve never seen so many spares on twitter and people literally could not give tickets away.

Many of those who made it did so out of that distorted sense of duty supporters cannot shake off, no matter how hard we try. We questioned our motives or indeed our sanity as we swapped stories of the easy drive or walking straight to the bar and being served.

In the end, we had the pleasure of five goals and an easy win, straightforward enough in the second half at least after the now obligatory calamity. It took a while but in the end we had some fun. Fun – at Spurs, not why we go, now is it?

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Took me a while to cotton on. What on earth has happened to me? There was plenty of good football yet I was suspicious of it. Won’t amount to anything, only a matter of time before the next defensive catastrophe, all fall apart soon. Spurs, that’s what you’ve done to me. 2013-14 has warped my senses. Hardly one to tell the great-grandchildren.

This game took place in the context of strong rumours that Sherwood’s departure at the end of the season had been confirmed. The photographers who jostled for position in front of the home dugout like paparazzi outside Chinawhite’s certainly thought something was up. Just like Spurs to sack their second manager of the season before a game. At least it wasn’t at half-time.

It all added to the lack of expectancy. As my son pointed out, the atmosphere was like that of a Europa League group game. Both teams were out there, working hard under the lights but in the absence of any tension or edge. You welcomed a couple of crunching, misguided foul tackles to remind us that it was a competitive game with a considerable amount hanging on the outcome.

To complete the scene, the heavens opened and the weather turned as gloomy as the mood. On cue, once again Spurs surpassed all expectations by conceding a goal of huge comedic value. Chiriches, back in the side for the presumably injured Vertonghen, exchanged passes with Lloris at the edge of the area. We thought this was to take the sting out of a Sunderland attack but no! It was Vlad’s cunning plan to lure his keeper out of position, then pass across goal to Cattermole who rolled the ball into the empty net. It was by far Sunderland’s best ball of the night.

It was an even game until that point. Our attacking line-up had Chadli and Paulinho in central midfield so no defensive midfielders. Lennon was on the right, Eriksen starting left but cutting in, with Kane linking with Adebayor up front. Self-destructive against better sides but it came good on the night.

Both teams had chances. Spurs probably had the best of them with Kane a fraction uncertain on two occasions and Adebayor prominent. Rose had more room on the left as the game went on. Trying to work out the frequency of decent crosses, I reckon he averages one in five. Shame really – he did well to get forward into the space Eriksen made for him.

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But it was Eriksen who got us back into the match, just when we were flagging. His fine cross from the left hit Manu on the thigh and was in. Messy on one level but it was a classic ball to the far post between keeper and defenders and all good strikers have the precious attribute of being in the right place at the right time.

All that was good about this performance revolved around Christian Eriksen, head, shoulders and a pair of stilts above everyone else on the pitch. Wherever something creative was happening, he was in the middle of it. Not everything came off but more than enough did to win this game at a canter.

His best performances this season have come when he’s played on the left. Last night, two wicked left-footed crosses, quick and curling into the danger area between keeper and central defenders set up our first and second goal. He scored the third, left foot and low from the edge of the box, helped by a tiny deflection.

However, wide left isn’t his best position. Rewind to my comments on the Liverpool debacle. Coming from the left gives us an extra man in the centre of midfield and he’s harder to pick up but it leaves us vulnerable to attacks down our left side, especially as Rose has defensive limitations. It’s a balance. Liverpool, who for the purposes of this example shall be known as ‘A Good Team’ ruthlessly exploited the weakness. Sunderland however, who we shall name ‘A Bad Team’, had no idea so the balance tipped decisively in our favour.

Good teams will always spot that one unless we compensate with a couple of defensive midfielders, one of whom will therefore be available to shuffle across and plug the gap. So do that or play him centrally with a DM behind so he has the freedom to move and work his magic, because there is no mistaking the fact that he’s the future of this club.

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Much to enjoy about the second half. Spurs dominated completely, exploiting the space Sunderland left us all over the pitch and making a series of chances. Kane scored the second from another fine far-post cross by Eriksen, touching the ball in with confidence. Eriksens’s shot was the third, lots of room at the edge of the box.

Adebayor had a good first half especially, noticeably prominent during the period when we played badly, trying to make things happen. He pinched the fourth after the keeper half-blocked Kane’s shot and then Siggy wrapped it up, banging in a loose ball for number five.

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I don’t see Chadli as a central midfielder, particularly if we are put under more pressure than Sunderland managed, but you can see glimpses of his talent, albeit frustratingly rare. For every fine throughball there were several fluffed opportunities but he contributed to the attacks in the second half. Lennon worked hard and made a couple of thrilling runs, reminding us of what has been missing from his game for a while now.

Paulinho began well in his best central midfield role but faded disappointingly. Kane did well enough, taking his goal well and looking to link up play behind the main striker. Having someone in that forward position who has something of the striker about him, as opposed to a forward midfielder, adds to our chances of scoring.

The defenders had nothing to do in the second half. Lloris was equal to everything that came his way.

A highly enjoyable second half and the result did not flatter us. Sherwood’s attacking team without a defensive midfielder proved to be the right option. There was a vast gap between the midfield and back four that most opponents would have exploited but sadly for them, Sunderland aren’t that team. They won’t get more room in the attacking half than we gave them yet they did nothing whatsoever with it. At the back, three centre halves meant we had space around their area and with Bardsley their right back keen to get forward, it’s no coincidence that two goals came from crosses on that side. It shows why teams don’t play 5-3-2 more often. Their lack of passion was surprising given their fight for survival. I feel for their fans – that was a long ride home.

There were many things wrong with Spurs’ desultory performance against Liverpool yesterday but the worst thing was, it was entirely predictable. Tottenham collapsed to type, a feeble effort on the part of players and management alike without even a whimper of resistance.

Spurs were completely outclassed. Liverpool weren’t so much on another planet, they came from another universe. They were totally committed to their cause, approaching the afternoon as if they were on a last-man standing survival exercise, whereas Spurs were out for a pleasant Sunday stroll.

We began with the same formation as last week, one that Sherwood has plumped for after weeks of unsettling experimentation, but with Sandro replaced by Sigurdsson in the centre of midfield. Bentaleb was asked to stay deeper with the whole line hanging back until we had the ball. Eriksen began on the left with licence to cut inside and Chadli further forward to support the lonely Soldado.

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Managers face a genuine dilemma against the rampant free movement of this thrilling Liverpool team. Defend too much and you play into their hands, too open and they will tear you apart. Tempted by their defence, which is less than rock solid, Sherwood went for a balance. A throwaway comment at the end of his pre-match interview may have given a clue to his intentions. He said something about perhaps getting at them later on when they tired.

In theory this team was set up to do that. The full-backs stayed at home, the midfield were energetic enough to press while in Lennon and Chadli we had players to hit on the break. Only problem – we didn’t do any of that. We never looked like a team and frankly many looked as if they just wanted to get it over with.

It was reported that Sherwood claimed not to have watched Liverpool in preparation for this match. I can’t believe that to be true, although these days at Spurs I can believe anything however absurd. What I do know is that Rodgers most certainly had watched us. If Eriksen drifts in from the left, it gives us an extra man in the middle and he’s more difficult to pick up, as well as that being his best position. It also leaves a gap on our left. Rodgers played three up front with Sterling placed to exploit that weakness. From the kick-off he and Johnson piled into that gap. Eriksen got back but too slowly.

Our centrebacks dealt with the first cross like novice skaters on the ice for the first time. Vertonghen’s marginal deflection was enough to unbalance Kaboul who could only touch the ball into his own net after 1:41. I’ve seen more deflating beginnings to a match but just now I’m struggling to recall them.

Spurs managed to repel the series of attacks that followed. To his credit, the outnumbered Bentaleb was alert to the problem and slid across to cover as best he could. However, he got precious little support from his team-mates. Siggy was energetic but we provided no cover for the back-four who were exposed to the dazzling interplay and individual alchemy of Suarez, Sterling, Sturridge and Coutinho.

I suspect Sherwood reminded the team about this collective failure in what I assume was an extended post-match inquest behind the locked doors of the dressing room. If so, he would be right. The lack of application was a pitiful, aimless response to going a goal down so early, to the point where we never looked like getting back in the game. Jumping ahead in the story for a moment, my memory of this debacle, assuming that I can’t forcibly erase every minute recollection from the deep recesses of the fibres of my brain, came with the replay of Liverpool’s third from behind the goal. Coutinho broke through the wide open fields of Anfield to shoot unchallenged from range. Behind him, our entire midfield bar the dutiful Bentaleb are strolling back, apparently without a care in the world.

However, there is a another element to this truth. In hindsight Sherwood may wish to consider his choice and tactics, especially leaving only Bentaleb as a defensive midfielder and Sandro on the bench. Throughout, Liverpool could take our entire midfield out of the game with a single incisive pass.

Right, let’s get this over with. Two more goals before the Acme Memory Eraser takes full effect. If not, old age will do the trick, usually does these days. Ironically, for all Liverpool’s outstanding dazzle and swagger (they are so good I almost forgot myself and managed to stop applauding at times), all their goals came from the now familiar self-inflicted wounds.

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After escaping several near misses, Spurs played like a unit for five or ten minutes, the only time when we had anything approaching an equal share of this match. We couldn’t cope so to redress the balance, Dawson, on as sub for the injured Vertonghen, with his first touch passed inside without looking. Suarez pounced and scored across Lloris from a tricky angle. The pain of his error was evident in every desperate, hopeless stride of his despairing recovery run. It was as close as any player got to the feeling of the supporters.

Coutinho’s next in the second half, then a free kick with everyone back but somehow Daws ended up one on three at the near post. One of the red shirts got the final touch.

Little to say about individuals. Lennon has put considerable effort into his sculpted facial hair but the Azzatollah made not a single run of any significance with the ball at his feet. This bearing in mind that even Liverpool can’t cover every area of the field. No really, they can’t and they leave space out wide, preferring to fall back and defend in depth centrally. It never occurred to us to exploit that.

Soldado was totally isolated throughout. Chadli had a couple of half-chances without making any impact. Siggy bounced around, Kaboul kept going but that’s about all that can be said. Bentaleb tried to play the role he had been given, at least trying to stem the tide. Only Eriksen showed glimpes of form and purpose but they were rare. Wasted on the left. Lloris couldn’t be faulted.

Sherwood spent the whole game in the director’s box, adopting a stern expression, contorting his body and compressing his head towards his knees, half-turned away from the action. He refused to budge throughout. He faced to his right, when the ball was in the left-hand goal he twizzled his neck at a crazy angle rather than move.

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He’s traded his gilet for a club blazer but he’s now trying on different roles for size. Furious touchline agitation has been replaced by a distant, considered stare from above punctuated by the occasional furtive whisper into a mobile, like a bookie’ runner passing on a tip. I guess he thought he looked hard but if he had folded in on himself any further he would have become positively foetal.

Whatever his failings, Sherwood is clearly passionate about the game and about the club. I’m no lover of fist-pumping technical area hysterics but as his team struggled, he appeared aloof and uninvolved. I simply do not understand why Sherwood feels he has to put on a performance, whether he chucks his coat into the dugout or his toys out of the pram. It’s not about him, it’s about the team. My team. It smacks of uncertainty and insecurity. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not getting through to the players and that’s his job.

What a pleasure it is to see Liverpool play football. It’s been a while since I felt the anticipation of a televised match but when they are on, I look forward to seeing the only team in the Premier League that opponents truly fear. You just want to see them play. Just a shame we had to be their latest victim. They discovered that they could score goals but they were giving them away too. Any other Prem side would have counselled caution and strengthened at the back but it was as if they took a deep breath and said, what the hell.

Hard to believe that not so long ago, their youngish manager was the one getting the ridicule for his management-speak platitudes and adherence to a passing game that worked only sporadically. But they stuck with Rodgers whereas we got rid of ours as soon as the going got tough. He turned us down by all accounts because he felt he couldn’t work with the chairman. Sound choice. Good luck to their fans as they relish in this unexpected, unbelievable success, gained through attacking improvisation that’s impossible to resist, coupled with hard work and a team approach that I envy so much.

 

“Stirring comeback” – most of today’s media. “Two nil and you f**ked it up” – The Park Lane, yesterday, approx. 3.10pm.

Spurs did well to drag themselves back into a game they appear not so much to have lost but to have chucked out the window well before half time, only to take it at the last with a lovely long-range winner from Sigurdsson in injury time. In truth, much of the performance was a mish-mash of the good, the bad, and the hideous that has typified much of our season.

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There was one difference though – the good gives hope for a future that otherwise looks uncertain and dark. Christian Eriksen’s outstanding performance lifted the side and ultimately proved to be the difference between the two sides. Scored two, made the third but his major contribution was his link-up play, especially with Soldado, that provided almost all of our creative moments and as such frankly stood out from an otherwise ordinary display.

Talking of the future, there’s hope for poor Bobby Soldado. His most consistent offering yet, his movement in a lone striker role due to Adebayor’s injury was the fulcrum around which our best attacks and movement hung. Twice I’ve typed his name so far, both times the pre-spellcheck result was ‘Booby’. I know my typing is primeval but Freudian slip or what? He did well today when the ball was kept on the ground, setting up the second goal and celebrating the winner as enthusiastically as any fan in the stands. Unfortunately he didn’t get the ball put in front of him in the box, otherwise surely a goal would come. He flicked a perfect ball to Chadli early in the game but the Belgian could not reciprocate, placing the cross behind him when time and space compelled him to do better.

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Sherwood has handled him poorly since he scored the winner verses Cardiff but the Spaniard is admirably resilient and was well supported by the fans. Trouble is, for periods we were bogged down in the malaise that has undermined much of our recent football, no one available and tight pressing/marking by our opponents so resorting to the long high ball.

It’s an indictment of our development as a team that after almost a full season we know so little about the true abilities of most of our summer signings. Injuries have played a part in that – they’ve all had extended periods on the sidelines bar Soldado – but it’s an indication of the disruption that has undermined our efforts that we have seen only Paulinho and Soldado have extended runs in the side.

At last we have a sense of what Eriksen can really achieve. He’s taken time to settle into the pace of the league despite being endorsed by his previous manager as being able to adapt to anything. Now we know. He has been touted as the number 10 but to me, play him in the heart of the midfield where he can be more involved and have a greater share of the ball. He’s the guy who holds it all together. Players can work off him and he makes them better because he can deliver the type of pass they want – slide it through, curl in a cross and his speciality yesterday, the neat little touch, subtle, instant, perfectly weighted.

His combination play with Soldado appeared instinctive but was carefully thought out. Bearing in mind he was nominally left midfield, he popped up, right place right time, far too often for it to be coincidence. He knows what Bobby S. needs and is the only one who comes remotely close to giving it to him. One sublime move in the first half showed speed of foot and thought that I thought had deserted us several long months ago. Shame it could not quite be converted into a goal.

Look – I may be a simple man but if Eriksen is dynamic in the centre, play him there. Chadli started there again in a forward position, despite his game-changing performance on Thursday when he moved out left. So why not start him left, coming inside on his right foot as he tends to do. Eriksen coming in gives us an extra man and it’s hard to mark him, I get that. I can see what Sherwood is trying. Redknapp did he same with Modric, but look at Luka now, flourishing in a central role for Real Madrid. Eriksen is the only man at Tottenham around whom a team can be built. Play him in the centre now, for the sake of this season and those to come. He is our future.

The first half began with optimism then swiftly degenerated into a familiar story of disorganisation and disenchantment.  Southampton are keen on pushing men into the spaces between our back four, as they did in the match at St Mary’s. We responded by keeping those gaps as wide as humanly possible, doing nothing to prevent he flow of passes from midfield or to track willing runners. Saints have no shortage of men more than happy to take advantage of an invitation and it was open house for much of the opening period.

Five goals in a free scoring Premier League weekend, four of which came from crass defensive errors. Spurs first with the cock-ups. Naughton totally misjudged an innocuous long ball from the Southampton keeper – really, nowhere near it – and Rodriguez took the chance extremely well as crowd and team united in stunned bewilderment. Then Naughton did it again. Last man, he knocked the ball sideways instead of clearing, Lallana the grateful beneficiary this time.

Saints looked like a team, we a collection of individuals introduced to each other for the first time in the dressing room before kick-off. Chadli looked eager but lost, Lennon did not manage a run with the ball for 40-odd minutes. He and Dembele were invisible. Cue some hoofing upfield. At the other end we were vulnerable to any bobbly ball through the middle.

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This had all the hallmarks of disaster, a meek capitulation would surely follow. But now it was Southampton’s turn to make a hash of it. A cross to the far post just eluded Soldado but the full-back (Clyne?) mis-cued his clearance. Eriksen, lurking hopefully at the far post, suddenly found the ball right in his stride and he slotted home. That cross came from Naughton: it says a lot about his determination that he was there. Despite making two horrific mistakes he didn’t hide.

The second half turned on another error, this time from lumbering centre half Loveren. He could have easily cleared an aimless ball into the corner but instead allowed Soldado to nip in and pinch it. A perfect cross found Eriksen dashing in on the far post to equalise. Spurs were the better side from then on, keeping Saints penned in without making too many chances. By now Eriksen had the freedom to be permanently stationed in the centre.

Sherwood timed his substitutions well. Last week they took the sting from our revival, this week Townsend and Siggy’s energy kept the pressure up. The game was meandering to a draw when Saints failed to clear. Siggy ran on to Eriksen’s weighted touch to slam it low and hard into the bottom left hand corner for a win that on the half-hour seemed highly improbable.

One other player to mention: in the second half Kaboul took his role as captain seriously, to the point where he was driving the team on from the back in a display of infectious determination.