“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.

Was that the smoke from flares drifting across Benfica’s Estadio da Luz or incense accompanying the incantation of the last rites of Tottenham Hotspur’s Europa League campaign? 3,000 Spurs fans turned up for the wake but in truth this was a passing that was little lamented. The EL has a remarkable ability to suck the joy out of the game of football for both fans and players. Like poor Walter Williams in downhome Mississippi, the 2013-14 campaign was pronounced dead and safely zipped up in a body bag when astonishingly signs of life were detected.

Two late goals from nowhere and a penalty denied could, should have seen us into extra time in a tie where until then we had been second best. It was a pleasure to feel disappointed. It proved that the anomie and apathy created over the last few months or so was merely superficial. Back in the game and suddenly the heart beat fast again.

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This makeshift team had toddled along nicely enough, plenty of energy and application without ever looking like making a breakthrough, save for one chance badly fluffed by Soldado. A goal and Spurs were transformed. We scored two, could have had two more plus that penalty. A rousing final fifteen minutes showed fans and players alike that we could go for it. Delight in that disappointment. Maybe these days being grateful for small mercies is more the size of it. Whatever, it was fun while it lasted and we could do with some fun.

Let’s stick with the fun part. Chadli had played down the middle. At least he had run around a bit. With Kane on to replace a toiling Soldado, the Belgian was set free! Free to be the man he has always wanted to be!! Yeh, he moved to the left, where he looks much more comfortable. First effort was the right footer into the opposite top corner, which after his belter in the dying moments of the Newcastle game he is now contractually obliged to attempt. It dribbled ineffectually into the keeper’s arms.

Next one was very different. He drove towards the box and this right footer, low this time, curled away from the keeper into the side of the net.

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A few minutes later, Lennon stood up a lovely far post ball for Kane to head back. Chadli pounced, ungainly contact but obeyed the basic law of a striker, get it on target. Benfica fell apart. They weren’t used to this from a Spurs side they thought they had caged in docile captivity. Lennon should have found his man when deep in the box, this from a stunning weighted ball inside the full-back from the excellent Bentaleb. Kane was pushed over from behind in the box, surely, certainly a penalty to everyone save the three officials in close proximity. Siggy heading a far-post cross too softly – great chance! Never thought I’d be writing about any might-have-beens in this article.

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I had anticipated most of the action being at the other end but in fact after carelessly running out of centre halves and finding the shops were closed, our makeshift back-four did very well. Fryers responded to the pressure but credit to the full-backs Naughton and Rose for cutting out the supply of crosses. Benfica were restricted to only a single on-target goal attempt, their goal where the lack of cohesion at centreback showed. Garay got between the two of them to power a header past Friedel.

However, Spurs did not cave in and applied themselves throughout. Benteleb responded positively to being a deeper lying midfielder with the dual responsibility of breaking up the Benfica attacks and starting our own. Given a fraction more room than our players had in the first leg, he made good use of it, starring in that final frantic last 15 minutes with three stunning passes. A prospect indeed.

Siggy did his Tigger thing in the middle (Tiggy?), bouncing around energetically. Two wide men, Lennon and Townsend, but we could have made more of the width. Soldado on his own up front, hacked a great first half opportunity into the ground and over. He could have shot, he could have rolled it across the goal, he certainly and inexplicably had the time to make up his mind, but instead another bad miss. No chance of his confidence rising. Poor man-management to leave him stranded after scoring versus Cardiff.

Sherwood chose to spend the entire game in the Director’s Box. I understand this was his choice – he wasn’t banned – following his spat with Jesus at WHL. Odd – what exactly was he afraid of? That he couldn’t keep his temper under wraps? That he would look weak if he went in for more gilet-throwing? It drew attention to himself. His team needed him and he was a long way away from them. He didn’t sit next to Levy either. Correct me if I am wrong, but I thought I saw him smile and wave on the way out just before the match ended. On the way to a defeat – not the way to go. He made sure he was seen, though.

Tim made his way down to the Spurs fans after the game and fair play to him. His side showed spirit and focus in defeat. The last-kick-of-the-game penalty conceded by a tired Sandro made it a draw on the night. ITV anchor Matt Smith described it as “a moral victory of sorts”. Not even a moral victory then, talk about faint praise. For us, it was a relief and pleasure to see the players work hard for each other and for the team. That they so nearly pulled off an improbable comeback is a bonus.

An age ago, or so it seems, Spurs beat Ars***L at the White Hart Lane with a scintillating performance of power, commitment and creativity. It feels so distant and far away, so much time has passed, so much has changed, that dinosaurs must have walked the earth but chipping away at layers of sediment to reveal the fossilised remains of what’s left of this victory, I found the true date. March 3rd last year.

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I had to check. I actually searched Tottenham On My Mind to confirm that we did indeed beat them 2-1 under Villas-Boas. Towards the end of this defeat, some of our football had been dug up from another era, aimless long-balls forward. Worst thing about it, many were grateful that at least we showed some spirit and desire. Meanwhile, Tim looks like he came out without a hankie.

This was our best effort for a while, a dubious accolade. We were well on top in the second half and had the chances to at least get a point. The crowd were right behind the team and the atmosphere was something like a proper NLD. Ars***l created little during this period but scrape away the surface of the hope and excitement, they were more comfortable than the possession and territory stats suggest. We simply did not stretch them enough or pose enough problems, especially through the middle where Eriksen should have been given a greater central role.

One factor of consistency is our unerring ability for self-inflicted pain. At kick-off we pressed forward eagerly. Too much so. Sandro’s cross-field ball was blocked. Caught high unfield instead of hanging back to ensure nothing went wrong early, he couldn’t even bring Rosicky down. The Gunners counterattacked ruthlessly. The back four’s high line was shot to pieces. Rosicky’s match-winning shot was unstoppable but he should never have been allowed anywhere near the goal. The game lost after 70 seconds. From then on in, it was all uphill.

It could have been worse. The Ox as I am now contractually obliged to call him had better get some shooting practice in before he goes to the World Cup although I was grateful that he was high and wide on two or three occasions.

More changes in formation and personnel for a Spurs team crying out for some stability. I don’t like Townsend on the right but he did well, giving us width and pace that our opponents found hard to handle. On the other flank, Eriksen came inside leaving Rose to do well one on one with Sagna. We should have used that more. Sandro hung back in centre midfield, Bentaleb tried to keep the ball moving with Chadli in an indeterminate central role further forward.

The fact that many on twitter say this was his best game for us says more about the rest than it does about his quality in this one. He neither got close enough to the excellent Adebayor or offered any threat of his own in the first half, while tracking back is clearly beneath a man of his showpony status. Oxlade Chamberlain’s break and missed chance led to a furious exchange between Spurs players with even Bentaleb having a go at the Belgian, still strolling back in the sunshine. I may be becoming obsessed. This morning in an e-mail, instead of writing ‘child’ I wrote ‘chadli’. Twice.

For a time we struggled to play it forward. More arguments as the receiving player complained about the pass under pressure. Vertonghen was nearly caught a few times. One was instructive, though – with 10 Spurs players ahead of him, he did not have a single pass available. No wonder he shrugged as if to say, ‘what am I supposed to do?’

To their great credit, the Spurs players came out with fire in their bellies for the second half and in taking the game to the gunners found some weaknesses. Ars***l were pushed further and further back towards their own goal and their counter-attacks became sporadic. Adebayor did an outstanding job of taking on their defence single-handedly, dashing from side to side, rushing back to pick the ball up and trying to link with team-mates but he still did not receive enough support in close order to take full advantage of the crosses that were raining in. Most came from the right where Townsend had a good game despite having to use his right foot more than he or I would have preferred.

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Naughton did well in support, maintaining a decent accuracy rate with a series of balls into the box but his impact on the game and on our season could have been so much greater. Szczensy fluffed one but Chadli wasn’t strong enough to capitalise. Moments later, however, another error left the Belgian with an open goal and the ball at his feet but Chadli’s uncertainty eventually meant a poorly judged shot straight at a covering defender. The crowd bellowed their derision. A golden chance not just to equalise but to galvanise a Tottenham team that so desperately needs something, anything, to be proud of, but the moment was gone and with it the chance of winning the game.

Despite the set-back, Spurs kept pressing. We dominated possession and territory but this was always a game where chances would be hard to come by and had to be taken. Adebayor, falling sideways, just missed with a header and Chadli, again, failed to get much of a touch on a cracking low near-post cross.

Siggy and Paulinho came on to boost the midfield for the final 20 minutes. In fact, the move served only to dissipate our momentum and the Gunners dealt easily enough with the rest. The crosses were plentiful but now coming not from the byline but from deep – heading practice for their centre-backs. This was a throwback to the 90s, all long ball, craning of necks and straining muscles and sinews in the box. Even that we didn’t do properly. Manu took them on alone. Chasing the game, Soldado did not appear until the 82nd minute, Lennon not at all when it was clear our opponents were weakest on the flanks. If the long-ball and crosses are a plan, so be it but at least commit fully.

To be fair, going with a midfield four is fatal versus Ars***l, hence some justified caution, but a goal down with 15 munutes to go, we were narrow and needing a goal when our best opportunities were created from wide positions.

Kaboul and Sandro finally looked as if they had shaken the stiffness caused by many months on the treatment table. I have been planning to pay off my mortgage by betting on Sandro being booked in each game but he let me down by finally in the second half having the pace and therefore the confidence to stay on his feet to resist a challenge.

Lloris had little to do but made one lightening-fast stop low to his right from a header at a corner. Naughton had a good game all round. In addition to his crossing and support for Townsend he defended well.

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I doubt this pre-match protest meant much. In Saturday’s piece in the aftermath of the Benfica defeat, I expressed my continued strong misgivings about the way Sherwood is managing the team. He’s forgotten that his early success came about because he kept things relatively familiar and reassuringly brought out the strengths of his men. Since then, he chops and changes formations and personnel every game. He seems bewildered and frustrated that his message is not getting through when in fact it merely shows his immaturity as a leader, blaming his players and simply failing to grasp the fact that what looks good on the tactics board is hard for players to adjust to.

Last week in one of his now daily communications in the media, he was proud that he speaks without thinking. In no other profession would that be seen as anything other than a fatal weakness for a leader. For those of you keen to have a manager that shows his emotions, I hope Tim proves to you that you need more than histrionics to manage a Premier League team.

A public service announcement: on Saturday I made a disparaging remark about The Bloke Behind Me at the Benfica game (it was actually very restrained – he was a complete embarrassment to his whole family). I have been asked to point out by The Bloke Who Usually Sits Behind Me that he missed this game and so the piece does not refer to him. At least he reads this…

At times this season, the hurt has been excruciating. Destroyed 6-0 by City in what was billed as a clash of title contenders, only three and bit months ago. Shipping more goals at home to the same opponents, kept it to five this time. Liverpool felt like having your spleen removed without anesthetic with only the precision of their surgical incisions to dull the pain.

The saddest and worst for me, though, occurred on Thursday evening. For an extended period at the end of the first half, Benfica corralled Spurs deep inside our own half, trapped in the fattening pen awaiting slaughter. We had no idea how to escape. We tried to go forward but found no way through the tight, eager and superbly organised midfield, We played it from side to side at the back. All that brought were a series of dangerous passes created by the pressure and the sight and sound of Vertonghen ferociously berating Kaboul and Naughton.

In the end we resorted to the long ball game. Even then we couldn’t do that properly. Adebayor flailing did his best but aside from a couple of headers from Kane, we got no one anywhere near him in case we got a knock-down. In the second half, Paulinho was pushed further forward, presumably to link with Manu and Kane. All this meant was that he saw even less of the ball than he did in the first half, thus approaching a number close to absolute zero.

Spurs were out-classed. The game proved, if any proof were needed, how far away from Champions League quality we are. Benfica have a group of talented players but the gulf in class was shown in teamwork. They were a team, we were 11 individuals. They hunted in packs, moving up, down and across the pitch in unison when they lost the ball and supporting each other they had it. We had a couple of failed one-twos, two players working together, not even three let alone a team.

The Bloke Behind Me ripped Sandro for a weak tackle. The referee gave a free-kick for an over-vigorous challenge. That’s the difference between the PL and Europe, right there. The team may or may not be trying – I think the players were committed on Thursday but there’s an alternative view, I grant you. But fist-pumping get-stuck-in rhetoric, whether it comes from row 15 on the Shelf or Tim Sherwood, is nowhere near enough. Problem is, the TBBM left early, Sherwood’s our manager but that is all he’s got.

Tim reverted to a familiar 4-4-2 ish formation with Vertonghen back in the centre of the defence, Walker and Naughton at full-back and Sandro and Paulinho in centre midfield. Paulinho was encouraged to take up more advanced positions, to be joined by Eriksen coming in off the left and Lennon wide right. Kane came in to play off Adebayor but does not have the talent either to support Manu in the box or link midfield and the striker.

You could see what Sherwood was thinking. Spurs were at home and had to try to take the game to our opponents. However, the inherent vulnerabilities were soon exposed. After a brisk start Benfica dominated midfield because we were outnumbered. To combat this, we needed width. Indeed, Lennon was our best attacking option with a couple of classic twinkling winger-type runs on the outside. Then he stopped. Came inside all the time. Didn’t link with Walker just when we needed to spread the play and have a go at them. This was compounded on the other side where we had no width at all because Eriksen was coming inside and anyway he’s not a wide player. Eriksen provided some flickers of creativity and should have been moved there in the second as Paulinho did nothing, but that was another missed opportunity.

Once Benfica got our measure, they controlled the game. Their first was a fine goal, lots of room between Vertonghen and Naughton, torn between dropping back but tempted forward by his opposite number drifting deep, but ruthlessly exploited by a delightful pass from deep and an equally fine finish.

We had a couple of opportunities right at the beginning of the second period. Adebayor missed – was he offside, I couldn’t see? And that was that. No 2014 Spurs performance is complete without some self-inflicted agony. Ironic given their superiority but the second and third both came from set-pieces. Both were unnecessary – Kane caught with the ball deep in his own half then Naughton conceding a free-kick. Both were as a result of poor marking. Their centre half rose free like a bird to head in number two, then banged in a loose ball for the third. Adebayor was deputed to mark their most dangerous header of the ball. bad mistake – he was nowhere on both.

This Spurs week has been conducted to a backdrop of Sherwood moaning. I see no reason to alter what I said over the weekend. Managers do not openly and consistently criticise their players in the media. There’s a reason for that. It doesn’t work. he may be right, he may be wrong but that’s not the question. The conundrum he has to solve is how to get the players to play better.

He clearly has a keen tactical mind. However, the constant changing of tactics has prevented the players from forming any cohesion or consistency. They need time to bed down. Sherwood is making substantial changes each and every game. The managers that do that, and there are very few, do so only after they have been with their team for a long time, they understand the players and the players can cope with the changes because they are confident. In the other words the total opposite of the situation at Spurs.

Tim says he’s trying to motivate, weed out the deadwood. but everyone knows he won’t be around in the summer. The players have no incentive to respond therefore. Sherwodd wants to get at the players, to make them harder. But people are people, they are individuals, they respond to different ways of being managed. He showed Adebayor he cared, and Manu responded magnificently. Not the others, then?

This piece from the Guardian shows Tim has form. It’s a series of examples from his own career about how he has not learned man-management lessons. Tim has a career ahead of him as a manager. What he’s doing at Spurs smacks of a job application. Tough, hard-man manager, licks players into shape, understands tactics, brings on the youngsters. A good CV for the lower leagues, then he can work his way up. he’s good mates with the Swindon chairman, look out for a west country move.

And he will do well, but it is not right for our club. That’s what I care about. This has all gone horribly wrong. It’s like Sherwood has compressed the first five years of management into a few months. Start by taking over and  settling the team down – familiar, straightforward tactics, get the best from the players, keep them happy. Try something different, new tactics. Some of it comes off. Then things go wrong. More changes, doesn’t work, more changes. Start blaming the players. This isn’t about Tim, it’s about the club and our club is a laughing stock.

Grab a bagel on the way home, see the TV. Jermaine Jenas is the pundit pontificating on our club. Can we get any lower? We may find out tomorrow.