Aaron Lennon

Livermore Grows Up As Spurs Ditch the Comfort Blanket

/ Alan / 24 Comments

Like the child whose parents have surreptitiously removed their much-loved comfort blanket in the night, we woke this morning missing the precious consolation of a game in hand, and soon discovered that we can manage perfectly well without it. For some it provided a welcome safety net, for others the promise of future delights. Now, in the cold light of day, we don’t need it any more. Tottenham Hotspur can stand proud and tall this morning, halfway through the season and third in the league, with only goal difference separating us from second and a mere 3 points from the top. Look how we’ve grown.

After the growing pains, which some called ‘transitional years’, most were less polite, last night demonstrated how Spurs have blossomed into a side not only worthy of our position in the table, but also a team others fear. Redoubtable opponents were gradually broken down and subsequently overwhelmed by a combination of sustained fluidity, movement and pace that proved irresistible. In the process, there were moments of stunning dexterity and class. It’s not just Fergie who has noticed – the game knows that right now we play the best football in the league and it’s a privilege to watch it.

The performance of Jake Livermore epitomised the Tottenham transformation. Before the match, the talk was how we would miss Scott Parker. Maybe Kaboul would be drafted in to fill the gaping hole, because with Sandro out the rest weren’t up to it. Redknapp has shown faith in the young midfielder and Livermore did not let him down. He works hard and has a decent touch with quick feet, but what makes him stand out is his willingness to take responsibility. He’ll make the challenge and knock it off, then run some more, calling for the ball. Last night he refused to hide, taking not so much the easy or difficult option, but the right option, almost every time. His 99% pass completion rate tells only part of the story. He wanted that ball as if he were a veteran. Arthur, who sits in front of me, knows the family. Bouncers mostly, the men at least ( I assumed he meant the men), a cousin is a bare knuckle fighter. Allegedly, because that may not be legal and frankly by the sound of them I wouldn’t want them knocking on my door. But Jake is tough, ready and willing to step up when the going gets tough. In the first half he competed as an equal in the crowded central midfield against a well-organised unit. By the time second half concluded, he was the boss.

Yet such is the talent in this side, he wasn’t the best player on the field. That honour goes to Rafa Van der Vaart. Did people once dare to suggest he doesn’t work hard enough? He was everywhere last night but was particularly and powerfully effective in the way he dropped back to get attacks going then managed to come forward to be a danger in and around the Everton box. Inch-perfect crossfield balls became the norm, precede usually by that lovely little turn he does when he controls the ball and shifts away from the opponent in the same movement, thus opening himself up for a pass, typically left-footed. His first-time shot early on nearly dipped under the bar, while on another occasion he began a move with a long pass, then dashed diagonally 50 yards from right to left to get on the end of the resulting cross, deep in the area. This was the latest in a series of high class performances from a man who has seen it all and played all over the world yet is apparently enjoying the game more than ever.

Everton were neat and brisk at the start, nearly scoring from the now traditional early opening that we present to all teams at the Lane, in this instance Saha firing just wide.  They lived up to their name, which is of course Everton Hardtobreakdown FC. We did well enough, Assou Ekotto’s passing finding willing runners in Adebayor, Bale and Modric. Three times we did a neat move, a few passes creating space then Luka runs left towards the edge of the box where Benny picks him out. And they say the coaches don’t do anything.

However, Manu wanted just that one touch to many and Everton defended assiduously, crowding out men in the box and cutting out crosses at the near post. Two or three rushed to Bale wherever he was and it wasn’t until the second half that he could really work up a head of steam, bar one lovely move that set up Adebayor.

Two penalty appeals, Manu and Modric, were rightly turned down but they signalled a shift in the balance of power as the half wore on. We managed to insert players into those channels, a sign that gradually we had cranked things up. from then on, there was only one team in it.

Oddly the goal came from the Spurs player who otherwise had the quietest evening. Lennon seldom got on the ball, although he did his fair share of work off it. Pouncing on a Baines error, he cut inside. His left foot shot unsettled Howard, perhaps with the aid of the merest deflection as it passed under a defender’s body. The keeper found himself committed early and was therefore off-balance as the ball rolled forlornly into the net. Some keepers go a fraction too soon and here was an instance where Howard might have been better to stay on his toes.

Quickly into our stride after the break, we proceeded to dominate for the next 35 minutes, until we became careless and allowed Everton a few opportunities at the end. Ball and men were completely in unison as the football flowed unceasingly towards the Paxton and the Everton goal. The movement, the understanding between the players, the close control – wonderful, simply wonderful, and capped with a suitably spectacular shot from Benny, thirty yards if it was an inch, rising all the way into the corner.

So much to enjoy. All a blur. One move stays in the mind, Walker cleverly dummying the ball into his possession then hurtling 60 yards upfield, the chance missed. My sole regret is that goals didn’t come from those many moves that deserved a goal and I would have liked more to have emerged from the times we had the ball in their box, rather than rely on a thunderbolt. Manu was not at his sharpest and at times we overplayed in the area, Everton’s massed ranks gratefully blocking and tackling for 90 long minutes.

Our opponents have organisation and passing that no so long ago I would have envied. I’ve remarked before about my affinity for them and the parallels between our two sides. Both have an illustrious heritage and loyal, passionate fans who have suffered as city rivals have eclipsed them, then fallen further behind as the money follows money. However, we have moved on. Everton for all their hard work and good touches posed little threat in the final third. Their more attacking approach in the last 10 minutes suited them but it was too late and by then Dawson and Kaboul had mopped up their efforts to the point where the latter had freedom to join the attack.

It’s good to see Daws back. He has his limitations against pace but then what centre back doesn’t? (The correct answer to my otherwise rhetorical question is Ledley King). That chest proudly puffed out is a reassuring sight, and he was especially strong at the near post. In the second half he was felled by a shot that hit him square on the head. Toppling backwards, which is a long way, he picked himself up in time to win the header from the resulting bouncing ball. That’s attitude.

Friedel didn’t have a real save to make but made everybody feel better just by standing there. Benny’s passing and support play were outstanding, never mind the goal. Luka was busy and involved but he’s not at the dizzy heights that represent the peak of his form. Rafa more than made up for him. Bale’s runs were unstoppable, at least by fair means, and both he and Walker made good use of their pace as the space opened up an increasingly bedraggled Everton defence.

Later on, Luka picked up possession and carefully passed the ball into touch. He received a polite ripple of applause, hard lines, good attempt. Now that shows the degree of satisfaction in the stands. No inflated expectations – let’s not worry about the title. Sit back and enjoy the challenge, this team is as good as anything I’ve seen for at least 30 years. A pleasure and a privilege to watch them grow up.

Edit: I am indebted to my friend Rich who saw Benny being interviewed on French TV. The reason he wears odd boots is that he can’t be bothered to find a sponsor so he bought 2 pairs for himself. He ruined one boot so just decided to wear odd ones. He is a top man.

 

For any regulars mortified, nay bereft, at the lack of a match report for the Cheltenham game, I didn’t see it, couldn’t find a stream and decided not to either pretend or concoct a witty post on shopping in TK Maxx. By the end of that, I had nothing left to give.

We’ve Got Sandro At The Back (And Harry On The Bench)

/ Alan / 19 Comments

The Sunderland fan on the train has low expectations but he’s loyal and a long way from home on a cold Sunday afternoon. Spurs have more points, better players and better prospects but he has his devotion to his club, a precious commodity these days for any fan as far as I’m concerned, so he expresses this in the time-honoured fashion: ‘Where were you when you were s**t?’

I guess this is what success means. Regular readers will know that whilst I’m unreservedly extracting every last Higgs boson of pleasure from the current run and this terrific team, I’m still pondering on what being successful feels like. It’s just that it’s been so long. 44 years on from my first match, I’m being accused of being a gloryhunter. The price of fame.

It’s odd. Spurs fans are often told they are fickle. We’ve had a reputation in the past of getting on the team’s back very early if things are not going well. This goes back to when I was a teenager. I don’t think we are any worse than the other Premier league teams who have been in the top division for a while and we’re a lot better than many, but even our detractors would have to acknowledge that we have stuck around. My kids are in their mid twenties now. They’ve been coming since they were little and they’ve not been there for the glory.

A ‘before and after’ victory. The ‘before’ was a first half reminiscent of so many sticky and listless afternoons during the dark days of old. Struggling to get going, no tempo, an absence of pace or inventiveness. Good players passing to shadows.And the surest sign of the old days – dull. Spurs and dull. These days it goes together like Ant and Ball or Cannon and Dec. How far have we come when we’re concerned about 45 minutes where we are superior and make a few chances, yet we know it’s not us because it’s not flowing?

Then ‘after’. A change of emphasis in the formation, add the commitment and determination of every last one of them, the talent’s already there and we are transformed. A shame there was only a single goal to show for our dominance but don’t let those late wobbles fool you: this was a decent victory and there were real and lasting positives in the manner in which we overcame adversity.

In these pages I’ve debated the pros and cons of our midfield set-up ever since TOMM began. Whatever the merits of playing two wide men, that’s what the whole team are used to. In the first half, it took us a while to escape the clutches of Sunderland’s packed and hardworking midfield but when we did knock a few short balls, they looked up to stretch the play and saw only empty grass. When we tried something, the ball was overhit – Modric to Lennon, Lennon to Walker, it looked the same but it wasn’t quite working.

When Lennon departed, we looked forlorn and bedraggled. Luka wasted on the left, Rafa couldn’t get on the ball, Parker deep. Pav on and had a good chance that he didn’t commit to, Manu good touches but nothing in the box. Crosses sailing over the far post. Sunderland had the best chance, a low cross that flashed across the box, but they had no ambition and Gallas had young Wickham in his pocket.  Following the evidence from the Stoke match last week I predicted that the high balls would rain down. Gallas gave away a stone and 4 or 5 inches but showed that a clever old ‘un has the drop on a good young ‘un. Apart from one free-kick conceded, he was the master. This season as last, it takes Gallas five or six matches to become match fit. He’s ready – a fine game.

The 4-4-1-1 with Bale and Lennon as attacking wide men has worked well. In the long run, I’ve discussed and advocated the merits of trying Parker and Sandro as two defensive midfielders with Modric central in front of them, Bale and Rafa and leaving out Lennon, despite his strong performances this year. Harry demonstrated the value of this set-up, at least as an alternative, in the second, tactical changes that brought us the three points and he deserves the credit. Although Parker did plenty of the fetching and carrying from deep, Sandro stayed back, Rafa and Luka could play in a more central position, leaving space out wide for Walker and BAE to provide width. Parker went further forward predominantly while Manu had a more roving commission up front. I understand why Pav came on, 2 up front because Sunderland were so cautious, but paradoxically it made us less incisive because we’re not used to playing that way.

Sandro had a good first half an hour – he saw this as an opportunity and was determined to make the most of it. Like the others, he tailed away as the half concluded. He then produced a storming second half until he went off near the end, exhausted after several lung-busting runs and feeling the effects of Thursday. This rock allowed the others freedom to get forward. When he lost the ball, he had but one thing on his mind, to get it back. He’s top class, born to that position.

Now we were cooking. These changes ignited the tempo. Rafa hit left foot pingers all over the place, Luka and Parker kept the ball moving and the full-backs were more than willing to help. We would have had more if Benny had been a fraction more accurate but Sunderland made it hard to penetrate their massed ranks.

The goal when it came was a sweet effort from Pav. I was in line, such a lovely feeling to turn away in celebration before it hit the net, knowing it was in. Otherwise, he didn’t do a lot, one decent shot. We should have had more – on twitter the match announcer Paul Coyte said Luka was kicking himself for the miss long after the final whistle. Rafa was well set at the edge of the box for a couple of his specials but he didn’t connect cleanly, and Manu was close twice. I’ve not checked the stats but we didn’t really make the keeper work too hard. That said, there was only one team in it.

Sitting on the Shelf means I’m close to our full-backs and wingers. We know how good Walker is but I want to tell you how focussed he is. There’s a look in eyes that would scare me if I played opposite him because of its intensity. Like Sandro, losing it means an opportunity to get stuck in. Nothing but getting it back. Brilliant.

Finally, a word of praise for Friedel. His calm understated excellence spreads to the rest of the team. A couple of good saves but his true value is in his safety. He catches where possible and when it is his, he makes it. His low save from a shot come cross late on was competent and expected but it meant so much, and if we do well this year we owe him a vast debt of gratitude.

So we’ve learned to overcome setbacks and we have a plan B. No wingers but we won, and won well. 606 on the way home, an Ar****l fan bristles at an earlier call from a triumphant Spur. He was wrong to write them off but she really got the hump. Showing that they don’t know the game, she wrongly said we haven’t won anything since their last trophy. She sounded as though she was a lot younger than me so she knows nothing but success. She needs some perspective. She was really edgy – I reckon that’s a sure sign of what success feels like.

Mesmerising Spurs Swamp Bolton

/ Alan / 13 Comments

I may have a few crumbs of comfort for the Bolton fan who rang 606 last night to bemoan his side’s lack of application and effort. The same thing happens after every game these days, the fans of the opposing side making a similar complaint, and the common denominator is Spurs. Rather than your team not trying, it’s because they couldn’t get near us.

If it’s any consolation, this has come as a bit of a surprise for us too. The movement, the pace, consistency and teamwork – not words that trip off the keyboard when writing about the Tottenham of recent years. But hey, this is us, this is the real deal and its mesmerising allure has both our hapless opponents and the worshipping fans under its spell.

My only worry is how I’ll feel when this ends, the comedown during the long morning after the night before when my drug of choice fails to deliver the high that transports me onto a higher mental state.Still, that’s a while away, judging by this performance, and until then I’ll take my fill of this compelling delirium.

Another staggering, scintillating performance. Never mind the league position, on days like this, we are watching a side play football just for the sheer pleasure of being able to express themselves. Like a child who after toil and tears suddenly jumps on their bike and peddles off down the path, they’ve discovered the secret without quite knowing when or how. Once there, all they want to do is try it out.

So much to choose from the riches on display, where to begin? Luka Modric was the brightest star in the firmament. Scott Parker gives him the foundation and confidence. Freed from the anxieties of having to carry the whole midfield on his shoulders, he has that extra split-second in which to act and that’s all he needs. The ball to Parker that sliced open the Bolton defence would be a highlight of this and any other game if it weren’t for the earlier moment of sublime artistry when he arced a pass 40 yards into Benny’s stride. In the first half, two or three shorter and quicker efforts were no less excellent because they demonstrated the skill to deliver the ball to a particular blade of grass but also the vision to see where a team-mate’s run will be completed and an awareness of the defender’s position.

Bale, exuberant and unfettered on the left. How can a cross that was missed by not one but two players, Adebayor and Defoe, remain so memorable? When Bale delivers, that’s when. His diagonal runs inside caused problems throughout and he would have scored again if he had stayed calmer with his shooting. Bolton don’t do corners but those near-post runs if properly timed are hard to pick up. Scored one made one. The boot to the crowd looked bizarre from the Shelf but I get it now, a nice gesture.

Lennon capped a fine match with a well-taken goal that came at the right time, banishing any niggling doubts that we would be unable to convert our massive superiority into goals. He took it with the composure of a class striker, waiting for his moment amidst the bustle of the box, sensing that he had time and space then placing the ball into the corner. You couldn’t always describe his football in this way, and whilst I’m on the subject of changes, his ball control has been top quality lately.

And what are opponents supposed to do when you have both Lennon and Walker on the same flank? When the full-back is as strong as a centre-half and as quick as the fastest winger in the Premier League? When this same player made 44 passes and every single one of them went to a team-mate? He showed his defensive naivety when he committed to an interception that he missed and let in Eagles. However, he has the pace to get out of trouble and the capacity to learn. For the second goal, his header clipped away a corner then while the rest of the defence is ambling upfield he dashes twenty yards to pick up a pass, moves it on and sets up the move that resulted in yet another Spurs end to end goal.

Before this turns into a list, I must mention Defoe who was particularly good in the first half. He’s worked on his all round game and looks better now he’s coming from deeper rather than hanging around in the box.

We’d established our dominance before Cahill was unfairly sent off. Normally red cards are followed by delighted roars of derision from the crowd. This one was accompanied by an embarrassed murmur. With Spurs in this mood and form, Bolton stood no chance. However, credit Parker with the timing if this and other sorties forward. Throughout he picked his moment, ten yards acceleration to exert even more pressure.

The coaching staff at Spurs have been much maligned, although no one’s complaining at the moment. Before we scored, Kevin Bond was shouting and gesticulating at the strikers and midfield to pressure Bolton’s back four. They had obviously sussed this as a weakness. Result – we gain possession for the passage of play that led to the corner and first goal, then to the sending off incident. Also, if the skills coach is working on ball control, he has succeeded when other have failed. Anyone know his name? And banish any complaints about the players’ fitness – they look like they can run forever, but if you played the game like we are right now, you’d want to play all night.

Brilliant teamwork, breathtaking movement, we should have won by six. Their keeper was in fine form, although Manu does have a tendency to find the keeper. Rather than get over-excited, let’s just….hang on, for now, I’m going to leave it there. Actually, let’s get over-excited. Enjoy every moment. Rave on dementedly about how good this is and worry about the future another day. It’s not often you see Spurs play football this good. It’s a wonderful feeling to be a Tottenham fan.

Football fans have shown their true colours in the wave of empathy afforded to Gary Speed. My sympathy and good wishes to his family. The minute’s applause began yesterday before the referee’s signal, such was the desire to show our feelings.

Except that is by a few people in the executive boxes who felt that because they are privileged and behind glass, they are presumably different to the rest of us and therefore did not have to stand and applaud. They could not be bothered to lift their snouts out of the corporate trough to pay a moment’s tribute. Top tier boxes in the centre, above the tunnel and the bench. I can see you, and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Spurs v Villa – A Two Goal Thrashing

/ Alan / 8 Comments

A nondescript autumnal evening in a mousy part of north London. Monday night football, a game on the dullest day of a week that’s barely got started. The ground’s not quite full, acres of blue until 5 minutes or so before kick-off. A game we should win, and did, by a couple of goals at home against a mid-table side. In the history of Spurs, less even than a footnote, a dash or a comma maybe.

But when we look back and talk about the best performances, the days or nights when Spurs really turned it on and played with the verve and daring that marks us out from the rest, those who were there or who gaped open-mouthed in wonder at the television will fall quiet and with a far-away look in their eyes softly whisper – Spurs v Villa, November 21st, do you remember?

A performance of style and shimmering beauty not so much took the breath away as sucked it forcibly from your lungs leaving you gasping and swooning with astonishment. In the second half there was no let-up. Wave upon flowing wave of movement and inventiveness dazzled the hapless Villa defenders into submission. Attackers ransacked from all angles. Bale steaming down the left or muscling his way into the middle, scorching swerving missiles impossible to handle. Lennon tricky on the right, Van der Vaart sliding across the edge of the box, no one could have picked him up, let alone a bedraggled Villa side. Modric and Parker driving on from midfield, and again, again, no stopping them.

We’ve seen great players and fine displays many times before but seldom one of this intensity and consistency, an attitude that spread through every player and lasted for almost the whole 90 minutes. At the end of the first half the tempo dropped and we were less effective, although still dominant, but flagged only at the very beginning of the second half where, as with QPR, we seemed distracted. It was however only a momentary lapse. For the rest of the match we played as well as I can ever remember. If you want to know what I want from my Spurs, replay this spell of glorious attacking football, of unstinting effort, of intelligence, power and guile. Brilliant.

Churlish to pick out individuals when the team is the thing. Not just the runs from deep, the understanding of team-mates’ abilities that mean Parker can loop a 60 yard crossfield ball 30 yards ahead of Walker and still he gets it, or Modric can slide a ball through for, well, any of the several men who made runs from deep or came short. Not when Benny nonchalantly sprays passes into Bale’s stride or picks out his man inside, or when Kaboul mightily heads away pretty much everything.

But there’s Luka, under pressure, two men, dips his shoulder and turns in the same movement and is gone, not pausing but head up, eyes bright, searching for the next ball. Luka driving us forward time and time again or dropping deep to sweep up. Luka, having excelled to a level few others can dream of let alone achieve, makes a rare error and holds head in hands in self-admonishment. Because he cares. Chelsea, the transfer, wages – forget it, he cares.

Here’s Scott Parker. At 30, finally, he has the chance to make it at the very top and he will not allow his ambitions to be thwarted this time. Failed transfers, poor choices of club, injuries, he won’t get a better opportunity, so without breaking focus, face etched with the effort of concentration, he runs, he holds it, waits for others to reconfigure into the right place, short passes, long passes, through balls, cover tackles made as if his life depended on it rather than being in just another Monday night league match. He inspires the players and the fans. We watch him and we believe.

Kaboul, learning alongside King the master, they shall not pass. Villa are potentially dangerous in the air and on the break but when you have power and pace like this, there was no way through. Kaboul would not allow it.

Bale, not one but two full backs in Hutton and Cuellar to beat, and beat them he did. Over and over again. I don’t blame the Villa defenders for not dealing with that cross -see it live, in real time, how can anyone handle it? Manu, two goals and a couple of misses, not at his sharpest but once again his movement and ability to hold up the ball transforms our attacking options. Rafa roaming, unleashed. Should have scored, uncharacteristically over-playing a few chances at the edge of the box and passing when normally he would have shot but a fine game all round.

Ask people around my generation about the great games. Sure we have tales of finals, of Europe and Wembley, but many will give a quiet mention to another evening game, in the early European rounds at home to Feyenord with Cruyff and a young gauche Ruud Guillit. We scored four in a scintillating first half attacking unsurpassed in my memory when we got everything right. Last night the only difference was the number of goals. A victory to live long in the memory.