Will the World Cup Influence the Premier League and Spurs?

July 28, 2010July 28, 2010 / Alan / 12 Comments

So here we are again. All those well-intentioned promises came to very little in the end. The World Cup, Spurs history, World Cup Conversations…although it’s time has passed, I must tell you about the waxing woman some day soon….

I enjoyed the World Cup but in the end, it had all been said about England, and anyway as I’ve shared before, dear reader, I don’t get as worked up about the national team as I do about Spurs. Other people with a better feel for the international game were doing a fine job. The Guardian Fans Network was great fun and if you haven’t checked it before, Zonal Marking – phew! Great site. www.zonalmarking.net

It was a reminder of my motivation for writing this blog, which is about a year or so old now. After all these years, I feel so close to the club. In a small way, I’ve been part of its heritage over the last 40-odd years, and the club is as much a part of me as the air I breathe. Inseparable, heart and soul. Some who know me might say that is a bad thing, but frankly it’s too late to turn back now. Always on my mind, so I write about what I know and feel. I don’t feel it for England, so I can’t write. Lots of ideas and just-begun pieces, paragraphs tailing off. Haven’t the heart to finish them.

Although many of you are clamouring for the start of the new season, I enjoy the break. I need it. To not anguish over the last game and plutz over the one to come is a blessed relief. Peace and quiet encourages reflection and a sense of perspective that does not come easily amidst the plethora of pundits during the season itself.

But as always, the world turns and seasons change. Never mind the summer solstice or the calendar – the arrival of the note that my season ticket is ready is my personal springtime. New beginnings, the promise of better things to come.

It will be interesting to see how the World Cup affects the Premier League in general and Spurs in particular. The often-repeated statement that the Prem is the best league in the world may still hold good in terms of excitement and competitiveness but if England’s finest can be so readily put to shame, our tactical and technical backwardness has been ruthlessly exposed.

This may not matter to most punters, but by charging inordinately excessive admission prices, clubs put themselves under increasing pressure to deliver. Fans have a tendency to become more disgruntled more quickly than ever before, and consciously or subconsciously one factor is surely a demand for value. We blanch at the credit card bill but it’s all worth it if we are watching top quality football. If it falls below that standard, the tetchiness begins and can easily overflow into anger.

The same goes for Sky: if they had their way it would be Super Sunday every day of the week but over the summer we’ve seen for ourselves how unsophisticated and technically deficient our so-called top league has become, even with foreign players. Sky’s publicity behemoth can’t fool all the people all the time.

The World Cup is bound to influence tactics in the coming season. The main message is: the team is the thing. The whole is greater than the sum of the parts. This of course has always been the case, but this summer in particular we saw a tournament where there were few individual stars. Rather, we purred at the combination play of, say, a young-ish German team who supported each other phenomenally well or marvelled at the passing and ball-retention of the Spanish.

Two up front has been severely discredited. The search around the leagues of Europe will intensify for the lone striker able to do, well, everything. Hold it up, run into space, drop back and chase, finish with lethal precision. For Spurs, does anyone fit that description? Not for me. Interestingly, Keane has been tried there. Friendlies this early in the season have no significance whatsoever in the outcome of the season but they do sometimes shed light on the manager’s thoughts. Keane at his best does fit the bill but he’s not exactly dynamite in the air, essential for the Prem. We can’t tell – it may that he’s up there simply because Crouch and Defoe hadn’t returned to training and Pav had a knock.

Harry is keen on 4-4-2 and has set up our squad accordingly, but if the rest of the league have five in midfield, like England we will be outnumbered. We had enough trouble against the likes of Hull, Stoke and Wolves last season.

Finally, two defensive midfielders is the fashion sweeping the metaphorical catwalks of European football. I say defensive: again, they require the whole gamut of skills. The familiar traditional midfield destroyer will take you only so far if he can’t pass. Here we are in better shape. Huddlestone, Modric and Palacios (but the passing…) are good for a start, and whilst we shouldn’t have unrealistic expectations of a young Brazilian not used to the league, Sandro is by all accounts a quality player in precisely this mode.

Our offer for Scott Parker has been declined but to me he’ll fit in just fine in the centre of midfield. He has plenty of skill, energy and experience, great positional sense, is a fine passer of the ball, shrewd, a leader on the field who can take over a midfield. Hudd and Luka will fit right in around him, he’ll help our developing players. Last season he carried West Ham and with better men around him he’ll look great.

A sound buy for the right price. And that’s the issue. He’s had injuries in the past that have disrupted his career, so we can’t go over the top. Sullivan’s public determination to keep him is all about creating a tough guy image with his fans. For him, everything on earth has its price and he’ll sell his grandmother’s kidney if the offer was right. I’m not inclined to become sucked into a bidding war. 5 or 6m, then leave it.

Otherwise, it’s early days. We are probably making lots of enquiries but there’s no need to rush. High quality men will take some persuading to come to Spurs because other mad chairmen will agree unrealistic salaries that we won’t match. Also, the market will unblocks itself once one big deal has been done, likely to be James Milner. We are keen on Young and Agbonlahor, they like the look of JJ, Bentley and Keane, City might like our cash for Richards….and so it goes round.

Whatever, don’t sell anyone until we have someone better signed up. Where that top class centre forward will come from, well, this will stretch all of Harry’s powers of talent-spotting and then persuasion to get him to come to the Lane.

The Premier League will provide great entertainment again next year. The trend towards 4-5-1 will continue but we may see teams adopt a more containing frame of mind. In the World Cup, the best teams used that formation to flow and pulsate, many used it to frustrate and minimise risk. If so, Spurs may have to discard our faithful 4-4-2, in which case we will require at least one new striker with different skills. Harry’s way forward could be pace and mobility. Bellamy, the two Villa players, plus Bale and Lennon – it may not happen but it could be an indication of his thinking.

World Cup Conversations: The Builder’s Yard

June 26, 2010 / Alan / 3 Comments

“Good choice, mate. That Cotswold stone, we knock out a lot of that.

Baz, stick it in the gent’s boot, will you. Lovely finish, it has. Then sort out that flag, health hazard you are.”

“Makes me proud, all these flags. Come on my lovely boys. Should be like this all the time, mate. Us English and proud of it.”

“Had that one made special, like, but ’course, round here, had them up for months. You know, since the election, and before, some of us. Looking a bit knackered now. Des down the Lion, not the one up on the roundabout, on East Hill, decent boozer that one, not like the roundabout. Used to be a decent place, took the missus there for Sunday lunch and not so long ago neither, now it’s all underage. And they got bouncers too. Reckon they let ‘em in if they can get a feel. Nice titty mind. You can’t tell these days, what are they f***ing wearing? Might pop down there myself Friday, don’t tell the missus. Eh Baz? He likes a bit of the underage, don’t you Baz? Eh? I’ll tell her I’m out watching the f**ing football.”

“Yeah, means something that flag, round here. Don’t just f***ing get it out for the f***ing football. ‘Course they don’t come in here. Stories I could tell you, mates can’t get work, good mates twenty years in the trade some of ‘em, good blokes. At home all day watching f***ing Loose Women and that other tosser, whatisname, right twat he is. Looking after the kids, going spare he is, my mate. Brings the kid down the Lion. Don’t like kids in pubs, mind, it’s not right, but he ain’t got nowhere else to go.”

“See they don’t pay tax but they’ll take our NHS and that, eh. Listen, if it’s England Poland there’ll be f***ing capers round here, f***ing mayhem. Few of us down the Lion, we’re ready, f***ing ready mate. ‘Scuse my French.”

“’Course those overpaid poof ponces, not worth nothing, none of ‘em. Poncing around, rubbish mate, won’t get past the group stage. Should have tanked the Yanks, what the f*** do they know about football? Don’t even play the game. Heskey? Heskey? England centre forward. Heskey? Do me a favour. Not fit to carry their bags.”

“Same every time. Too much money. Ruined the game, it has. Don’t care about us back home, we have to watch it. Lose a few and back to their f***ing wags. Mind you, I would, eh Baz? Can’t be arsed to watch it, tell the truth. That fat bloke, off Gavin and Stacy, haha, I like him, better than the game it is. Sticks it to the Krauts. Makes like he’s joking but you can tell he really hates them.”

“So that’s 30 for the ballast and 75 for the slabs, call it a 100 for cash? Cheers.”

“‘Course I’m off mate, got a nice little place in Spain. Get out of this shithole, bit of sun on me back. Give it a couple of years, You won’t see me again. Couple of years.”

The World Cup: Spurs v Hull All Over Again

June 20, 2010June 20, 2010 / Alan / 6 Comments

Each World Cup holds up a mirror to the world game. We have the opportunity to see the best teams and the finest individuals, to chew over the tactical trends. Unfortunately until very recently, the unedifying conclusion is that the world game is basically a loop tape of Spurs v Hull.

Regular Tottenham On My Mind readers will be soothed in the knowledge that I have made good on my promise to shoehorn in gratuitous references to Spurs throughout the World Cup, but actually this one has some value. Last January Hull laboured long and hard to stifle successfully a Spurs team with more talented individuals. Ten or eleven behind the ball, they harried and harassed us into blind alleys of frustration.

Many teams have opted for a similar approach in the opening exchanges in South Africa and like that January afternoon in north London, it’s been effective but not pretty. As a barometer of its health, the world game is an obese alcoholic smoker. National coaches have a short time with their men – in most tournaments the better teams evolve before your eyes in a matter of a few short weeks, rather than arriving fully formed and ready to go. For most, it’s easier to work on the negative. All modern players have one characteristic in common, fitness, so they can run all day at the coach’s bidding.

Moreover, ambitions are limited by the fear factor. We may laud the plucky minnows, as every small team that over-achieves in any cup competition must be termed, but in their own country they carry the usually inflated expectations significantly these days from their media, their FA and their politicians. It’s only a game but these three institutions seek to capitalise in terms of profit and prestige. Wealth and reputations rest upon some form of success at the World Cup, hence the fear of defeat and failure.

Happily the matches are opening up more. Cameroon against Denmark was excellent last night. Cups are all about knock-out football and the tournament will ignite only when the games have clear consequences. It’s the same in any World Cup.

So if the themes of contemporary football are organisation, discipline and possession, then England have been cast adrift from the rest of the world. Friday’s performance was something out of the Dark Ages, medieval sensibility in the modern world. It was so awful it defies analysis. Never mind the approach or tactics, how can so many decent players perform that badly for so long. It’s pointless comparing systems if Rooney can’t trap a ball in the entire 90 minutes. As the match went on, I yearned for kick and rush; at least it’s a plan.

I’m tempted to say that this was the worst England performance that I’ve seen but of course the saddest thing is the crushing familiarity of it all. Off the top of my head, the semi-final glory of Italia 90 obscures the horrible football we played in the group, barely scraping in to the next round. Watching Euro 2000 on holiday in France, with no English pundits to tell us what to think, there was a vast gulf between our crude and inept football and the smooth efforts of others. Again, we could not pass the ball.

Whenever these things come around, predictably the media and fans alike attach their own particular soapbox theories to the problem, regardless of the evidence. It’s absurd to say that it’s because the coach is foreign – he’s steered us through our best qualifying campaign ever. Nor do I believe that a lack of passion among the players was the cause. In fact, I suspect that passion and desire to succeed ruled their minds at the expense of a more tempered approach. Cool heads were required, stop and think, to play the ball around, to keep it and probe for weakness, to keep your station on the field rather than try to do the job of two players, as did Rooney, Gerrard and Lampard, and ultimately weaken your own efforts. One reason for our failure was that we placed undue value on trying, too little on thinking.

The most worrying aspect of this calamity is that I’m convinced Capello has absolutely no idea what went wrong either. Even allowing for his basic command of English, after the match he was as bewildered and angry as the rest of us. Leaving aside for the moment the question of whether 4-4-2 is the right option, his players clearly did not do whatever it was that he instructed.

I wonder if, in his long career, he’s ever faced a similar situation. Famed for getting the best from players, and for shaping teams that fit their talents rather than arriving with a predetermined tactical plan to which his men must adapt, his eleven performed as if they had met him for the first time only minutes before kick-off. He’s tried everything to get through to them; now what?

Before the tournament, I thought that England had a good team, with cover in a few positions but otherwise had distinctly limited options. Another troubling factor is that Capello has come to the same conclusion. After assessing the squad at close quarters, he’s concluded that several of them may be decent Premier League performers but don’t fit his plans. Joe Cole, Upson, Dawson, Defoe, Carrick and to some extent Crouch are available but virtually ignored. Capello thinks they are not up to it.

Also, Capello is a successful club manager, where he had time to build a team and fine-tune their play, as well as purchase other men to fit his vision. He can’t do that now, so if his best do not do his bidding, there’s no plan B. He’s floundering, a situation that he has faced infrequently and therefore is struggling to find a way to cope. Those of us who have faced adversity in the past, in any area of life, develop coping mechanisms and so survive when the bad times return. Capello does not necessarily have the psychological history and imprinted patterns to handle this, certainly in the international arena where he is a newcomer.

Much has been said about the problems up front but the most serious issues stem from Ferdinand’s injury. He offered pace at the back, alongside Terry’s solidity forming a fine partnership, and the ability to play the ball from the back. King brought the same qualities but has gone too. Pace is essential in any international defence. Therefore to protect his central defence, Capello is that much more conscious of the midfield’s defensive responsibilities. In turn, this restricts the freedom to get forward. Small margins but this is what this England team is about – they never had any room for error. Add the goalkeeping uncertainly plus the choice up front of a provider, not goalscorer, there is no margin for error at all. And if Rooney, Lampard and Gerrard are off, then…..

Having said all this, if Capello is feeling hard-done by because his players cannot pass to each other, then I have some sympathy. It’s not much to ask. In the eyes of the world, it’s plain embarrassing. However, he’s fallen into the trap of compensating by not playing to his strengths, for which there is little excuse. Gerrard must play a central role, alongside Lampard in a five man midfield with Rooney up front and Heskey on the plane home. It’s not about Gerrard ‘playing off the front man’. Instead, have a more flexible view with Lampard and others getting forward. Barry will offer enough protection at the back. Upson and Terry? I’m pretending that will be OK. I can’t worry about anything more. My prediction was for England to stagger into the next stage, and I’ll stick to that.

Tottenham On My Mind Meets Jimmy Greaves

June 14, 2010June 14, 2010 / Alan / 5 Comments

At my age I’m fairly certain of what’s important in life. If I haven’t figured it out by now, frankly it’s too late. But even for someone as jaundiced and careworn as I, there are still moments when those priorities become crystal clear. Last Thursday, when my train halted in Kent as St Pancras was evacuated for a bomb scare, my groan turned heads in the carriage. If it had been work, an interview, a woman even, I would have remained stoically philosophical. But this, this meant something, because I was on my way to meet Jimmy Greaves.

I don’t do heroes. I admire certain people for who they are and what they do but in the end they are all flawed, just like you and me, and I’m no hero. But Jimmy Greaves was the closest I have ever come to idolising a fellow human being. As an impressionable football mad only-child growing up in the late sixties, Greaves was the biggest star of many in that Tottenham team. Kids aren’t fussed about records, they have no perspective of history, so I didn’t care that he was our best ever scorer. What mattered was, Greaves delivered. He always scored, or so it seemed. The ball in the box, is he on the end of it, yes and must be a goal.

Jimmy Greaves in His Prime

More than this, he did so with style, and even this sheltered boychick knew it, just by looking. Greaves was different, and ever since I’ve searched for flair, the distinctive individual. It’s hard trying to explain his football to those who never saw him. Goodness knows I’ve tried with my kids, but there is no one in the modern game to say even, ‘Jim was a bit like him’. Was he fast? Not a sprinter, but he outpaced defenders with the ball at his feet, gliding over the turf with perfect balance, the ball two feet in front of him. Was he quick in the box? Apparently not, but he got to the ball first, so often. Powerful? Not really, but the ball sped into the net, passed rather than belted. In these days of inflated superlatives, Greaves was unique and remains so. His was a frail, almost shambling figure who was transformed when the ball was at his feet.

I never dreamt for a moment that I would ever have 15 minutes on my own with the great man, but if it had crossed my mind, the setting would not have been as surreal as the back upstairs table at Burger King, Leicester Square. I shake hands with the PR guy (Jim’s flogging World Cup burgers), glance around and there in the corner, lost amidst the indifference of tourists and office workers gulping down a bite or two before moving on to something better, is a small, rotund man, healthily tanned, chatting quietly into a microphone. One of the game’s greatest goalscorers sits anonymous, surrounded by discarded burger wrappers and plastic carriers.

As he greets us there’s a touch of weariness around the eyes. It’s been a long day already, we are the last in line, two packed into a single slot as time has almost run out, and there’s a car waiting for a radio interview so it’s not over. Yet there is genuine warmth in his firm handshake and a willingness in his tone to talk football. “Ok here we go chaps, how are you, all right? Start, don’t worry.” A legend takes the trouble to make me feel relaxed.

First up, some punditry, and he’s refreshingly honest. Asked how England will get on in the World Cup, he replies cheerfully, “No idea.” He elaborates with care.

“We’re a fair side, don’t think we are a great side. There are 10 teams as good as us, a lot depends on how the competition goes. With a bit of luck and staying injury free, who knows. I’m sure Capello would like to start with the team he feels can win it and finish with that same team.”

I wondered about his appetite for the game these days. Does he still watch a lot of football?

“I don’t watch a tremendous amount of football”, he admits, kindly lining up the recorder closer to him to ensure nothing is missed. “These days mostly the top teams, obviously the World Cup. Haven’t thought about it really, it starts tomorrow and we’ll start watching it. No point in getting excited until it starts. England have as good or bad a chance as anyone else.”

Still on the World Cup, what’s his solution to one of our biggest conundrums, who partners Rooney up front? His response is characteristically forthright.

“Crouch. Don’t see how anybody could be anti with his goalscoring record. We’re talking about a guy who has a great goals ratio. Surely front runners are there to score goals. There’s talk of Heskey making Rooney a better player, well, I don’t really hold with that. Otherwise Alex Ferguson would have bought Heskey a couple of years ago.”

He paused. “It’s every player’s responsibility to do his best and Rooney would know that, whoever he plays with. Let’s wait and see.”

Greaves at a Do Recently

Some of my correspondents last season would not be so certain of Crouch’s abilities, but Jimmy was having none of that.

“Need more? Need more what? He’s scored plenty, more than Rooney. Play him, it’s that simple.”

Time to talk Tottenham. I wondered what he thought of the current team.

“Yeah, Harry’s got a good team there. I don’t know what he’s got in terms of money to spend but they’ll have a good season next year. I can see a good future for Tottenham.” He chuckled, “it’s the first time you’ve been able to say that for a while.”

Regarding any of the modern players who stood out, he was less certain. Eventually he said, “I like the Croats he’s got, they are good players and reliable.”

Jim’s an engaging storyteller and appears more relaxed with reminiscing. He needs little prompting to warm to his subject, in this case Harry’s credentials as a young manager. They played together for a while at West Ham – was Harry always cut out for the comfy heated touchline seat?

“No not at all. The first time was when I was doing a job down in Oxford and I met up with Bobby Moore. Harry was there, I said ‘how are you mate?’ He said he was helping Bobby. What are you doing in non-league, where do you want to go? He said, ‘I want to be a manager, you’ve got to start somewhere’. He started there and has gone from strength to strength.”

Up and running now, there’s no stopping him.

“Bob didn’t have a clue really. With respect, Bobby was a world class footballer and suddenly trying to buy players and know the level of non-league football. Barry Fry, he knew every name of every footballer and every non-league club in the country because that’s where he was.”

Not thought about being a manager yourself, Jim?

“No, never fancied being a manager because I didn’t see a career in football after I retired. If I’d known that you could get millions for being absolutely crap and getting the sack, I’d have been in like a shot.”

Greaves was a fine striker but who was the man he most enjoyed playing with? He had no hesitation.

“Alan Gilzean. I had a great partnership with Bobby Smith. When I first joined Tottenham, Les Allen was centre forward because Bobby got injured. People think I took his place for a while but I didn’t. Les went to centre forward. I had a good relationship with Bobby Smith because we played for England together. Gilly was absolutely phenomenal. We had a great relationship, we could read each other’s minds. Yes, Alan without a doubt, phenomenal touch.”

I expressed my anxieties for Gilly, the subject of a forthcoming book, ‘In Search of Alan Gilzean’, who has largely disappeared from view amidst concerns for his health.

“I know where Gilly lives,” he scoffs. “He’s fine. He can’t understand what the fuss is all about.” He warms to his theme. “I was chatting to Steve Perryman about 3 or 4 weeks ago. Steve sees him quite regularly. He’s happy, just doesn’t want to get involved in anything. He can’t understand this rumour about being a recluse.” So there you are.

At this point the PR intervenes, but Jim wants to make sure we have our time. “Hurry up, any more?”

I squeeze in a quick question about then and now. Does he envy the money of the modern players?

“At the end of the day I was a professional footballer. It would be nice to be on the wages that they’re on but I’ve got to work for Burger King instead!”

As the PR ushers him away, Jimmy remains a true gent. “Thank you, there you go chaps. Sorry we didn’t have longer really.” You and me both, Jim.

He makes time to sign two programmes for me, the first of the game in 1969 against Newcastle where I saw him run 50 yards to score, the second a photo of the goal in the programme of the next home game. No chance for me to ask if it was his favourite, or indeed anything much about his time at Spurs, but despite the urgings of his PR, he took the time to sign it carefully, a full signature rather than an impatient scribble. I assured him that they will not appear on ebay. “I’ve heard that one before” and with another chuckle he looked up and was gone.

On the way out my son pointed to a Chelsea fan in the burger queue, late teens or early twenties, standing near a undignified cardboard cutout of Jimmy grinning and holding the sponsor’s product. We couldn’t resist. ‘Jimmy Greaves. He’s upstairs! Greavesy!’

The guy looked puzzled, as if he was trying to figure out the words of a foreign language. He then turned away and he and his mates shook their heads in sadness. Greaves is one of their finest goalscorers too, but they’ve never heard of him.

It was a privilege to meet him, for which I’m eternally grateful, my only regret being that I didn’t have the full time with him, one to one. Not because I was denied the opportunity to obtain a better interview or ask a searching question, but simply because talking with Jimmy Greaves is an absolute pleasure. Maybe heroes don’t disappoint after all.

I didn’t have the chance to ask Jimmy about the one matter that fellow Spurs fans seemed most concerned about, his omission from the Spurs Hall of Fame. He’s not been honoured, whereas Freund has. Peter from Spurs Odyssey did ask him about it. Full details in his superb piece (link below), but the gist of it is that he won’t do the dinner. He believes that players should be honoured for their achievements on the pitch, enigmatically adding that this did not seem to be the case.

Thanks to Jack Clothier at Cow PR and to Burger King http://whopperlegend.com/ where you can watch a video and enter a competition to watch the World Cup Final with Jimmy Greaves.

Thanks to the lovely Dan at the excellent Tottenham Blog, link in the sidebar. For more, Peter Garnett on the Spurs Odyssey site is required reading http://www.spursodyssey.com/0910/pjmetjg.html