Didn’t see that coming but boy, it felt good to see it.

From kick-off, this young Spurs team looked our illustrious opponents in the eye and did not flinch until the final whistle. We took them on, time and again. Every forward movement, some stunning goals, crunching tackles and last-ditch interceptions, we took them on and beat them. This was joy so real, it thumps you on the back and knocks the breath from your lungs.

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Pochettino’s bravery in taking the game to our opponents rather than choosing the easy option of sitting back was justified in full by the magnificent, wholehearted response from all his players. It could so easily have backfired, especially when Tottenham went a goal down and then the ball hit Vertonghen’s hand as he fell his own box. Yet for the first time this season, you felt that the team were not going to allow the strategy to fail. They kept going. At the end, they extracted every last ounce of warm appreciation from an ecstatic crowd, and how they earned it.

When a team is on song, the football flows as if it is the most natural thing in the world but we Spurs know this is something so rare and precious, it’s carried by kings who follow a star. These are games you sense and feel, that rush by in blurred delirium. Close my eyes and I can still see visions in white and navy blue, fluid grace gliding through blue.

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I looked on in joyous slack-jawed stupefaction. As the goals piled in, rather than explode in celebration, instinct compelled me to look around for a fraction of a second, seeking confirmation that this was really happening. It was you know.

Not just a superlative performance, Harry Kane produced unforgettable moments of wonder and delight. His first goal: I was willing him, out loud, just to hang on to the ball as he traversed the field. I never imagined a shot, let alone a goal but he saw the gap and drilled it low into the bottom corner from 25 yards. A great equalizer just when Spurs needed a lift, transformed into magic by the thrill of the unexpected, when you can see the whole pitch, the position of every player yet the man under the most pressure sees something you can’t. It’s the mark of greatness.

This inaugurated a period of play that was simply fabulous. Pochettino’s plan was take them on and by half-time Chelsea were on the run, stragglers fleeing to the rearguard to regroup, swamped by the onrushing rampant Spurs cavalry.

Before and after half-time, Eriksen was stunning in his movement and ingenuity. The redoubtable Chelsea defence crumbled. Matic, by far the best defensive midfielder in the league, was befuddled. Eriksen found a willing helper in Chadli. He made the runs in between the back four, Eriksen found him. Through on goal, the Belgian hit the post and Rose dashed 60 yards to be on the end of the rebound, which he calmly placed into the corner despite being cleaned out by Cahill.

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This unpunished tackle injured Rose, who later had to go off, but he took the crowd’s plaudits first before getting treatment, and why not. Much maligned, partly at fault for Chelsea’s opener when he hesitated, appealing for a throw in and allowing Hazard space to dash through to set up a tap-in for Costa. Rose was excellent for an hour and limped back onto the pitch at the final whistle to join the celebrations. Pleased for him, he deserved it.

Then all in a rush, Kane tripped by an increasingly desperate Cahill and Townsend placed the perfect penalty into the bottom right hand corner. Not the natural first choice as penalty-taker, judging by the groans and fearful looks around me as he stepped up, but he successfully backed his own ability.

Half-time, this can’t continue, but it did. Eriksen outstanding again, Chadli on the move, and Kane, always Kane. A lovely move at top speed from our half, Kane slipped past his man with the deftest of touches and passed it into the far corner.  Some great strikers are defined not by grand gestures but by delicate brushstrokes. The shimmy half-turn to beat his marker was sublime.

So a glorious evening if not quite a glory glory night, and this was the best period. It’s always good to be a Spurs fan but this felt an especially good time to be alive. Tottenham were 4-1 up and Chelsea had no response. We were in control.

Up front, a young man who cost the club nothing fearlessly drove on against four international defenders in one of the costliest teams in the world. Kane dashed into a cluster of blue shirts and produced a cross that could, should have been blown in. They could not cope. Cahill was shattered by the end, furiously kicking Our Harry in the back as he lay on the ground. Take it as a compliment, Harry. It was all Cahill had left. Just before, Chelsea were reduced to not throwing the ball back to Spurs when we kicked it off to allow treatment to one of their men. How low can you get? We made them wallow in the depths.

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Giddy on a mixture of elation and stomach-churning fear that it would all go to ruin, the crowd played every ball and lifted the player’s efforts. Then suddenly Fazio gave away the ball and Hazard rushed on to pull one back, significant less in terms of the score, more in needlessly conceding the initiative Spurs had toiled so hard to create. There was now a spring in the Chelsea step and sub Rameriez gave them a momentum that they had not looked capable of creating themselves. Lloris’s full-length save low to his left at 4-2 meant almost as much as any of our goals.

Spurs then broke. Chadli cut in from the left and his right-foot shot was deflected in. Cue bedlam in the stands, ‘we want six!’ Again sloppiness allowed a reply, Terry tapping in at the far post and I wore out the clock just by looking at it but Fazio and Vertonghen saw to it that Hugo was protected to the point where he could easily save anything that came his way.

A thumping win against the odds, London derby, played in a riotous atmosphere: January 1st and it can’t get much better than that. Or can it…?

As you will have gathered if you have bothered to read this far, not a match where I’m able to provide any reasoned analysis. Those of you who watched on TV will have a better idea of that. In no particular order, Chadli (not my favourite) had by far his best game for Spurs. If I had the chance, I’d take him to one side and say, ‘That’s how good you can be if you put the work in.” He got on the ball because he made the right runs consistently and he worked back enough to play his part.

Vertonghen was excellent at the back and Bentaleb had a fine game sweeping up in front of the back four and getting the ball forward when he could. He’s not a natural defender but filled in the gaps and celebrated the goals like no other. He wants to play for us so badly. Dembele scandalously took 5 minutes to get to ready to come on as an early sub for Mason. You’re a sub, you’ve only got one thing to do and that’s have your boots on! But his strength and ability to hold the ball came in handy. We gave the ball away too frequently – must sort that out – but on the other hand we also got to more second/loose balls than usual.

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I’m not going to dignify Mourinho’s post-matching whining with a response, although there is real pleasure in seeing him and his coaching team dancing in futile, furious mania as the backdrop as Spurs swept past them in attack. The last two games proved we were fitter than both United and Chelsea, a level of fitness that has been attained without many injuries, unlike United, so credit Poch again here.

I’m in it for life so win or lose I’ll be back for more, but we need nights like these to remind us why we do it. Every penny, all the disappointment, worth it when the fourth went in, worth feeling this way today. That and gibbering foaming at the mouth disjointed over-excitement from a supporter old enough to know better. But then, nights like these have a timeless, enduring fascination. Total commitment in the stands and on the pitch. Glorious.

Spurs against Manchester United remains one of the grand fixtures, especially to an old fogey like me. A noon kick-off left everyone struggling to get in on time and in the right frame of mind. Halfway through the second half it was very different. Full-blooded and rumbustious, the Spurs players had got stuck in and so had the crowd. It felt good to be part of it; the anger and exhilaration meant the blood was flowing as Tottenham finished the stronger.

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Finishing on such an optimistic note feels good and that feeling lasts. In the interests of objectivity however, Spurs could, should have been at least two down after an hour. Despite the quality and fame of their players, the managers remain the dominant influence over their respective sides and in the tactical battle, Van Gaal came out on top in the first half.

Width was the key, as it so often is. Spurs had Townsend and Chadli as the wide men of our forward midfield in our customary 4-2-3-1, no contest against the wingbacks in United’s 3-5-2. Time and again the Mancs cleverly drew play to one side before switching to Young on our right who usually had time to take a deep breath, scratch his bum and get comfortable before Townsend got anywhere near him. Chiriches is a mistake waiting to happen at the best of times and left so exposed, he stood little chance.

For his part, Pochettino drew a picture in his mind of our wide men pressuring the wingbacks so they could not get forward and also exploiting the space to either side that is the potential weakness of any back three. However, that proved to be a delusion that stems from his admittedly admirable attacking instincts as neither Townsend nor Chadli would commit to their defensive duties or in the latter’s case, matching the hard work of their opposite numbers.

As a result, Young was being waved through and Pochettino did nothing to change it. With Kane increasingly isolated versus three central defenders, our attacks became so rare they were worthy of a valuation on the Antiques Roadshow. It didn’t help that we developed a new free-kick routine – pass it to a man under pressure then lose it. Yet amidst this rank stupidity there was just a niggle that United were not all that if they could be put under pressure.

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And then there was Hugo. United made a series of chances throughout the half but Lloris kept them at bay. In so doing he showed the full range of his magnificence. At point-blank range he pushed out a header then perfectly timed his knee-high tackle to deny Van Persie in the act of shooting. The best was a gravity-defying leap to spear wide Young’s far-post curler that was destined for the top corner. Twice he got down and dirty, everything behind the ball as we improbably scrambled the ball away from deep inside our 6 yard box. After one save he held the ball aloft in triumph as if it were a prized trophy. We owe him a huge debt of gratitude, not just for yesterday but for a series of outstanding performances this season.

The back four showed application and spirit throughout. Vertonghen made several good tackles, Fazio was typically strong in the air and credit to Chiriches for three vital blocks, two in quick succession right after kick-off before his team-mates were awake and one off the line. However, we relied to a bottom-clenching extent on the defensive strategy that has served us so well lately, the cunning ‘let’s wait for the other team to miss’ ploy. This was seen in full effect away to Leicester, where we stood back and watched the bottom side in the league create chance after chance. Fortunately they contrived to miss them, but this is United, and you don’t expect Falcao, Van Persie and Mata to fluff their lines. Falcao was clear through, it seemed to take an age when the evening replay showed he had in fact only a fraction of a second to react, but his shot was closer to a toddler kicking a balloon in the living room. It gently plopped into Hugo’s hands.

A couple of those misses were early in the second half but gradually, imperceptibly Spurs gained the initiative. Mason and Stambouli worked extremely hard with the latter showing a positional discipline that has been absent until now. We stopped United’s supply at source, preventing them from using the ball efficiently and limiting the wingbacks’ attacking influence.

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Without doing anything spectacular, Spurs had position and possession. Now when the ball was in midfield, more often than not we came away with it. Kane was outstanding. Outnumbered up front on his own, he was tireless and intelligent. Always available, when the ball reached him he was never content just to be there but tried to move it on, often taking it towards the United defence and taking on three of four defenders in the process. It did not always work but that’s not the point – United could never settle because of him. In a fine season, his best performance so far.

Eriksen used to start brightly and fade. Now he comes into his own in the second half. I would have got the subs on earlier, Dembele’s strength would have been handy.

Our best chance encapsulated our second half in a single move. Kane carried the ball onwards against the odds and slid it through to the onrushing Mason, who came from nowhere it seemed. In fact he must have run fully 70 yards from deep in our half to get on the end of it. He blasted over and beat the ground in frustration but he was there.

More evidence of progress. The effort and application, a settled centreback pairing paying dividends, coming on strong at the end. Yet we remain a team of contradictions. Ludicrously giving the ball away at free-kicks, a lack of protection for our full-backs in particular and the back four in general, we should not have to rely on the opposition missing so often. I didn’t do a boxing day match report, but read Villa, Hull and Swansea only more so. We defended diabolically. Odd to stress this given our recent good run of results but it has to be said.

It’s where we are, a side in development, some good things, some bad. We finished the hungrier and more ambitious, our fitness levels carrying the momentum until the end. I strongly suspect United came off the park envious of that commitment and that’s not something I could have written at any point in the past about this fixture. That was absent earlier in the season. It’s the foundation for the success of any side and that’s got to be a very good thing indeed.

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Spurs maintained the momentum from a busy and productive week to defeat Burnley thanks to a stunning goal by Erik Lamela. In an uneven performance we had enough class at key moments to take the three points, driven on by the game’s outstanding player, Christen Eriksen. More salient in the long-term, there were positive signs that the recent team development continues too.

Spurs began slowly. Indeed they struggled at times to lift the tempo, a consequence of three games in six days. Plenty of time for a pre-Christmas chinwag as the game lacked spark. The Bloke Behind Me dozed off, the pompom on his blue Spurs santa hat dangling over his nose. There was little danger of anything happening on the pitch to rouse him.

Burnley’s neat passing game with two up front was easy on the eye and to their credit they constantly sought to get the ball forward. They paid Bentaleb the ultimate compliment by deputing a midfielder, ex-Spur Marney I think, to push up and mark him. This limited our ability to pass from deep and curtailed Nab’s influence. However, Eriksen more than compensated, revelling in the space thus created in our opponents’ half. He was high class throughout. There’s a different air about him now, bright-eyed and busy where just a few weeks ago he was directionless and absent for extended periods.

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In Wednesday’s report I speculated that Pochettino was using that match to try out a few different options. One was Eriksen back in the middle again and it worked yesterday. The Dane spoke after the Swansea win about his increased fitness levels and judging by yesterday he’s a 90 minute man now.

Lamela had his best game since the QPR match. He stayed wide when we had the ball and we switched the play from left to right with an ease that’s seldom been seen this season, so when he set off he had that extra space to work up a head of steam. He varied things, going outside and in. Once he tiptoed to the byline and produced a perfect cross which three of our players contrived to miss from a couple of yards out.

His performance was crowned by a stunning goal, his first for the club. Coming in off his right foot, he scooted across the defence and curled a luxurious left-footer into the far corner. I involuntarily shouted ‘Come on!’ as it left his foot, urging the ball on while it was in mid-air like a golfer shouting at the ball he’s struck from the tee. It sounded just as ridiculous but I was right in line and knew it was in. It’s the kind of supporter stupidity that goes with a fabulous goal.

This proved to be the winner. Earlier, Kane had lifted us out of our stupor with an alert and audacious moment of inspiration. He took a free kick quickly. Eriksen, offside, stayed motionless allowing Chadli to run on to it. Before Burnley had come to their senses, Chadli went to the byline and chipped in a perfect cross for Kane to head home decisively from inside the six yard box.

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This is typical Kane. Quick thinking plus the basics. Kane isn’t fast but that first yard’s in the head. How true – he goes straight to where he needs to be, running 35 yards to start and finish a move. The header was straightforward, getting to that point wasn’t. He’s developing his game all the time. When the ball is played up to him, back to goal, now he often traps it by pushing it sideways or diagonally towards the opposition goal, rather than just doing the safe thing and playing it backwards. This gives him the chance to get on the front foot and take the ball forwards. In the second half, he dropped deeper to pick the ball up in this manner then release Chadli who put the ball in the net but was offside. The body of a 21 year old with the brain of a 35 year old Sheringham.

Burnley hit back with a magnificent strike of their own, a top-corner curler from Barnes, after Lamela had twice given the ball away. After Kane’s goal it set us back on our heels until Lamela lifted the spirits. Second half, Mason’s absence, injured in the act of shooting, deprived us of much-needed energy. He had been everywhere, first to loose balls. Now Burnley did too much for our liking, looking to exploit Fazio’s lack of pace by twice slipping the ball inside him. However, he and Lloris got their angles right, pushing attackers wide so Hugo was able to block anything on target.

This week Vertonghen was praising his partnership with Fazio. Pochettino gave Kaboul a chance, now rightly it’s the turn of these two and there’s nothing like playing together to build a partnership. They both did well, Vertonghen in particular quick in the tackle. Burnley failed to get behind them so they dealt competently with anything in front of them. Fazio on the turn, so to speak, is a different story. He’s fine once he gets to wherever he’s supposed to be, the trouble is in the getting there.

Spurs flagged for a time then rallied and we should have scored again on the break, with Eriksen prominent. Lloris saved a late free-kick from sub Wallace and that was that.

Wallace was another in this week’s series of Slightly Misshapen Footballers. Physicality is so important now, most players are fine, identikit specimens this days. Wingers are no longer slight and nippy – Spurs played two six-footers. Subs Wallace for Burnley and Armstrong for Newcastle on Wednesday are stout, short men with torso and heads out of proportion with their legs. More power to them, say I, it’s refreshing to see something out of the ordinary.

Our midfield had a balanced look. Lamela and Chadli stayed wide for the most part in the early phases of attacks, both making good decisions as to when to stay wide and when to come in that won the match for us. The inverted winger thing doesn’t mean that they are compelled to come inside every time. Sound decision-making is more important. Mason and Bentaleb are solid behind them.

Also, we managed to get support to Kane up front without wasting a precious midfielder on just playing off him. Kane is clever enough to know when to drop deeper and when to press up, while Eriksen is now able and willing to get up and back.

Kudos to the visiting fans who all wore Christmas hats and celebrated a day out by singing long and loud in the second half. Hope they had a safe journey home.

A final sour note that hopefully won’t spoil an enjoyable day. We meet Burnley in the Cup of course, a match scheduled inconceivably for a Monday night. So much for the magic of the Cup. The Trust asked for an explanation. At first they were fobbed off by both the club and the FA. Pressing again, contradictory accounts emerged, the FA saying the clubs wanted it, Spurs that it was the FA taking police advice into account. Someone’s lying: as ever it’s the supporters who suffer.