Champions League

If Spurs Were United, We’d Never Be Defeated

/ Alan / 11 Comments

Tribalism is the essence of being a football fan. United in support of our obscure object of desire, Tottenham Hotspur Football Club, we pledge everlasting love and set aside other relationships in preference to the one that truly matters. We have our colours, our temple of worship, our rituals. At games or out and about, I strike up conversations with perfect strangers because  they are navy blue and white. The Lane, just before kick-off, I shake hands with people I see more frequently than I do most of my friends and relatives, people with whom I feel a deep common bond in a place where I am more at home than anywhere else on earth. I don’t know their surnames, where they live, what they do or think, anything of any significance, yet none of this matters, because we are Spurs.

Scratch the surface, however, and deep fissures shatter this fragile unity. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve reached after reflecting on how this blog has dealt with some of the major issues that face the club. Two topics have produced more comments than any other articles that I’ve written over the past couple of years, namely Stratford and the Madrid tickets.  Not necessarily more views than other pieces, in fact ironically my most read article is an innocuous match report on this season’s away game at Everton that was picked up by Everton sites and messageboards, Surprised and pleased at my even-handed approach, they extended fraternal greetings as fellow football supporters and wished us good luck in Europe.  It’s the reaction that has been markedly different, revealing deep divisions not just on the topic itself but, significantly, on the very nature of being a Spurs fan.

There are several pieces on Stratford; the comments sections on a couple are not for the fainthearted. The single biggest issue to face Spurs since the club was in deep financial distress under Scholar was bound to provoke a meaty debate. Last week I offered some constructive criticism of the ticket office’s appalling treatment of fans trying to buy Madrid tickets but the fascinating comments section, which as a regular correspondent noted somewhat disconcertingly for an author was as good as the article, revealed distinct differences of opinion about the solutions.

To be very clear – keep the comments coming. I read them all, often respond and don’t censor or delete them. If you take the time and trouble to not only read the blog but also comment, I’m genuinely grateful. Interaction is what blogging and the internet is all about.  This piece is not about who is right and wrong. Perhaps I was being naive but the ferocity with which some people got stuck into to fellow Spurs fans did take me by surprise.  With the OS, for example, I’m anti-Stratford but understood the concerns of people who see it as the way forward. The fairest way of distributing tickets for big games is via the loyalty points system, not perfect but the least worst. However, several people rightly pointed out that if they have a membership, they are just as entitled to go for the tickets as anyone else. In fact, a wider distribution encourages a broader based support.

In the end, we’re all Spurs, right? Wrong apparently. As the debates raged, the nature of a being a fan came into dispute. Are people who have been attending games for many years more a fan than others who come once or twice a season? Younger fans in this equation will always be at a disadvantage because of their date of birth. Family circumstances and money prevent an increasing number of supporters from coming to see the club they love. When I was in this position for a few years, I remember listening on the radio to a home game when we were near the bottom of the table and physically being in contortions of agony until victory. Would I have been more of a fan if I had been at the ground? Yet who can deny the phenomenal dedication of  those who give up their time and money to follow them around the country. Some tried to find the coefficient between the two. With Stratford, both sides saw themselves as defending the club’s future, both with very different views as to how this might be achieved.

To repeat myself, I’m not talking here about who is right or wrong about Stratford or ticket distribution: I’ve written about that elsewhere, feel free to comment. Rather, I’m taking this as evidence of divisions within Spurs fans that are exposed whenever problems arise. I’d say that the one thing we agree about is that we get behind the team, but the fact is, there’s disagreement there too, the two extremes being those who cheer on regardless and those who feel justified in complaining openly by booing or abusing our own team and/or players. Most of the time it’s a comforting and humbling experience to be part of the worldwide Spurs community. Sometimes, that comfort is an illusion.

Ironic that I’d been mulling this over in a week when a 4% rise in season tickets has been announced. I’ll pay of course, and Daniel Levy knows I will. More importantly, he knows that if I don’t then someone else will. For the record, my ticket has gone up by over 6%. Increased operating costs are the reason, apparently. I work for a charity. We have cut our costs as much as we dare because of the current climate, but Spurs are seemingly immune from the pressures we all face because the law of supply and demand has come down heavily in their favour. Increased revenue from Europe and TV ( did I see an increase of over 40% mentioned?) has not been reflected in concessions to the fans. There’s no moral imperative to consider the loyal fans – but again, I’m being naive. Levy knows we are divided. I’m reminded of the industrial disputes of the 70s and 80s. Two factors overruled everything else – the unity of the workforce and how real was the possibility of a strike. Levy knows our weaknesses and will exploit them.

League Leaders Spurs in Ticket Office Farce

/ Alan / 62 Comments

Ten days ago the Football Supporters Federation, the country’s largest representative organisation for football fans, published the results of a nationwide survey of club charters, documents that set out standards of customer service. Clubs were graded according to a number of criteria, including accessibility, timeliness, quality, complaints procedure and contact details. Sitting proudly on top of the table are the mighty Tottenham Hotspur, scoring an impressive 31 points out of a possible 35 and fully 8 points clear of our nearest rivals, Arsenal. Where’s your St Totteringham’s Day now, huh?

Try telling that to anyone who went for Real Madrid tickets yesterday morning. The charter is on the web, if you have the time and inclination to work out where anything is on that messy and counter-intuitive  official site. It’s glossy, carefully constructed in well-modulated, easy to read language and about as useful as Aaron Lennon in the air, because in reality Spurs treat fans with withering contempt.

Madrid was always going to be busy and frustrating because demand massively outweighs supply. The boards and sites were bulging with tales of joy and despair as the infamous online site maroon bar tantalisingly stuttered from left to right along the screen. As ever the abundant ingenuity of fans reached new heights of creativity. Entire offices mobilised online and on the phone in pursuit of a single ticket. Different, non-premium rate telephone numbers. One person I know queued for 12 hours at the ticket to be successful.

We all understand this. Until we have a bigger stadium, sadly many fans will be disappointed for the big games. However, what truly infuriates is the manner in which the club handles these moments. The disappointment is bearable, a sense of being kept in the dark and of the club not caring is not, especially when some problems are entirely avoidable.

Yesterday I logged on to the system at 12.10 on behalf of my son who wanted to register for a Chelsea away ticket – applications closed at 5pm and he wasn’t near a computer. On the home page of the official site there was no direct link to Madrid home tickets. Plenty of knockabout hilarious banter between JD and Bale over today’s international or the breaking news -hold tight to something solid – that Crouch was looking forward to that game. Nothing about the single most important thing that any fan wants to know about their club – match tickets.

I went onto the online ticket section to be greeted with the usual message about waiting a queue, don’t refresh you putz or you’ll lose your place. Nothing happened. About 20 minutes later a sliver of maroon appeared which steadfastly refused to budge for another half an hour. By 1.20 I was about an eighth of the way along, an hour later not much further.

This could only be due to one thing – people still believed they were in with a chance of Madrid tickets. Yet a messageboard post at 10.53 stated tickets had sold out. On the ‘forthcoming matches’ page Madrid was listed as sold out but you would not access this page if you clicked on ‘buy tickets’ and were taken straight into the system. Just after 2 I had another go on a different browser. This time, a message came up saying the tickets had gone but people who logged on hours earlier had no way of knowing this – “don’t refresh” and still nothing on the home page of the main site.

About 2.30 I suddenly shot across to 75%, then was unceremoniously booted off just gone 3. My son called the box office who confirmed my suspicions – so many supporters had by this time been left hanging in the wind for at least 4 hours since tickets had ceased to be available. The club said they were intending to clear the system and start again.

This doesn’t affect me personally as I’m fortunate enough to have a season ticket. My original standing season ticket lapsed in the late 80s when my children were young and family life was busy. As they grew older, we started going regularly to matches and bought season tickets in 1999 (no waiting list back then) because of the increasing problems of getting members tickets for important matches. Even if we couldn’t go to every game, it was still worth it. Yet yesterday makes my blood boil because better communication and a better system could have prevented the frustration and anguish of my fellow fans. It’s made all the more insulting because of the mealy mouthed empty platitudes of the Charter written by club mandarins who keep themselves as far away from the unwashed public as they possibly can. Here’s a bloody charter for you from this fan.

Tell people what’s going on. We are old enough and ugly enough to handle bad news. What we don’t like is being the mushrooms under the crap, kept in the dark. Have clear, updated ticket information on the club home page. If I could do that in 30 seconds on my pony blog, then that’s easy for you too. Use the £3.70 admin fee you charged for the costs of the electric pulse that uploaded my ticket purchase onto my season ticket card, there’s probably about £3.699999 left over.

If tickets have sold out, clear the system and replace it with an up to date message. If the start time for tickets is 9.30, don’t allow people on the system before then, thus avoiding the myths circulating about when you can and can’t log on in the mornings.

The loyalty points system is not perfect but it’s the best we have and by far the fairest way of selling tickets. Use it for games like this. Publicise a number in advance, you can’t apply for a ticket unless you have, say, 200 points. Once you meet that threshold, it’s first come first served. Not perfect as I say, but better that what happens now.

I know nothing about the logistics of ticketing but these measures are straightforward. Perish the thought that any of this might cost the club money…

In my experience the individuals at the club ticket office, including the manager, are very helpful. When Paul Barber was at the club, he used to reply to genuine concerns and enquiries personally, via his Blackberry sometimes. The current system is better than in the old days. My first game at Spurs was against Sheffield United in 1967. As it was the final home game before the Cup Final, ballot cards were distributed at the turnstiles, so I could have obtained a Final ticket on the basis of attending precisely a single game. However, the system could so easily be improved. As for the Charter, not worth the glossy paper it’s written on and the FSF, noble though they are, would be better off surveying the actual experiences of fans with clubs who depend to a large extend on taking our money. About time they put some effort into treating us better.

 

Spurs: Is This As Good As It Gets?

/ Alan / 20 Comments

It’s thrilling at this time of the season when, usually, the games pile on top of each other so there is barely time to breathe between matches, but occasionally I appreciate a break. Maybe I’m getting on a bit now, need to take things slowly at my age. Nah – I’m fine, my enthusiasm for the game is undiminished by the passing years and the way money is in danger of poisoning the relationship between clubs and their fans. Rather, maturity teaches you to rest awhile and enjoy the view on along way, rather than hurtle from A to B.

Despite Tuesday’s defeat, as I suck a thoughtful tooth there’s plenty to relish. The 2nd leg against Milan will do but we are also 4th in the league after a good run of results and are playing some cracking football. In Modric, Bale and Van der Vaart we have three of the most exciting players in Europe. However, it’s given me time to catch up on a few thoughts left over from the Milan victory, one being a radio discussion about our future prospects. Was this momentous victory, one of the great Spurs performances of the last 30 years in my view, the breakthrough moment, the Yellow Brick Road to untold future glory, or was this a time to savour because this is as good as it gets?

The case for the first proposition is obvious – I’ve mentioned enough evidence already – so let’s look at the case for proposition 2, which goes something like this: Spurs cannot play consistently well to take on and beat not only the cream of Europe but also remain a fixture in the top four. To do this requires better players and better resources than we possess or are likely to possess. As sweet as victory as this was, in the cold light of day it’s out of synch with our true status.

In taking this on, I wish I could begin on the pitch but these days we need the Financial Times not the back pages to find many of the answers. Where there’s money, there’s power, and the single thing the powerful are best at is holding on to power itself. Despite the forthcoming changes to the relationship between the salary bill and income, Chelsea and Manchester City, bankrolled by billionaires for whom the purchase of a Torres or Toure has no more impact on their wallet than using a £50 note to light their cigar, will hold sufficient advantage to distort the market in their favour. United or would-be challengers like Liverpool have the might of corporate finance behind them. L’arse depend more than any of the others on the skill of their manager. Whilst his current reluctance to spend is unfathomable, the Emirates is a goldmine, their debt must soon be paid off and there’s a takeover in the air.

Fighting our corner is a shrewd businessman who falls into neither of these camps. More accurately he actually has both – our de facto owner Joe Lewis is a billionaire and corporate financier – but has access to neither. Consistently up in the top 15 clubs in the world in terms of income, we are unlikely to have the massive resources to match those of our main rivals. In ten or 15 years time maybe, not just when the new stadium is built but when the debts are manageable, but not yet.

However, I’m not giving up that easily. Let’s get back to what matters, what happens on the pitch. Spurs have to take the blueprint that got us here and throw everything behind that. Players. Players are our future. Young players who will mature – we will find them and once here, cherish them as if they had returned to suckle at their mother’s breast.

Time – give them time to develop, grow and achieve their full potential. With patience, time is a resource conspicuously lacking in the minds of Abramovich or City’s sheikhs, yet it is within our gift.

Process – this is a process, a flow of players joining us. As one reaches the first team, another is out on loan learning their trade, a third is sweating blood in the youth side. Whilst our own youngsters need to progress, our success has been to identify young players who have some first team experience elsewhere.

Football men. Football men in charge of the team who can make these players believe and excel, to be better than they think they can be. Most significantly, football men off the pitch and in the stands of grounds around Britain and and Europe, men who understand not just what a player can do but what they could become. A man like Comolli. Allowed too much influence by Levy, the club’s management and accountability structure hampered progress and Levy must never allow that mistake to be repeated. I’m aware he may not have personally picked all of these players, but in his time Gomes, Bale, Lennon, Corluka, Modric and Assou-Ekotto joined this club.  Director of Football, chief scout, I don’t care what he is called, we need someone who can ensure a flow of  players on their way up.

We’ve shown we can compete. Keep this team together and add quality all over the pitch, especially up front, and I am convinced we can challenge the best. Walker and Sandro are next in line: hugely promising. Hard enough though it is to find these precious and scarce resources, the true test is whether we can keep our young (ish) stars at the end of this and next season. The signs are good at the moment but let’s face it – in the summer bids for Luka and Our Gareth will start at £30m. I trust Levy is practicing his cold stare as we speak.

In one of the first ever posts on this blog, I answered the question of where we would finish in the league that season by saying that my true hopes were about the manner in which we went about things. I would have been happy if we were genuine contenders with a realistic chance of challenging for honours and the top four. Whilst I’m still not sure exactly how to  define it, I know when I see it and that’s still how I feel. It’s what we are doing now. If we give it a right good go and finish 5th, I’d be disappointed but not too downhearted.

Right now, I’m pessimistic about the top four – 5th, lost by a short head is how it feels. The burden of expectation is starting to weigh heavy on our shoulders and our strikers are seriously misfiring, but to be serious challengers, now and in the future, is good enough because one day, one of Chelsea, City, United and L’arse are going to fall from their pedestals, as did Liverpool, and we need to be waiting. That day could be sooner than you think. As I write, L’arse will have to pick themselves up from their League Cup defeat, a hammer blow that they did not anticipate. City have drawn with Fulham – they are not yet a team, they have problems gelling as a team. Chelsea have misplaced their mojo and in the longer term need to rebuild. Finally, at some point in the next couple of years, United have the twin problems of replacing Ferguson at a time when they are burdened with debt.

Let’s reflect on how we got here, make a plan and stick to it. Levy has found money for a striker, even though we couldn’t find one, but in the transfer market it’s a scout that we need the most. Maybe we have one already. If so, if there is a man who brought Walker and Sandro to the club, then I salute you and I’m glad you do not seek the limelight. In considering the future let’s not forget to enjoy the present. This season is chock full of glorious memories and there are more to come. Now and in the future.

Finally, I’d like to join Spurs fans in mourning the loss of Dean Richards, who died yesterday at the tragically young age of 36. Signed from Southampton by Hoddle for £8m, a fee that was without looking it up the highest at the time for a centre half even though he was uncapped, I hoped he was the solution to our problems in the centre of defence that had dogged us since Richard Gough departed. Strong, experienced, not the quickest but still mobile, he was the big man at the the back, the leader we craved.

Well though he played, the fact that he never quite hit those heights meant that he was underrated by many. We now know something that even he did not at the time, that his balance was affected by a serious brain condition that eventually claimed his life. In the circumstances, his achievements were remarkable. My sincere condolences to his family. At Spurs we will have good memories. 

Spurs – Just Magnificent

/ Alan / 26 Comments

Last night Tottenham Hotspur produced an outstanding 90 minutes of football to dominate, frustrate and then, astonishingly, defeat AC Milan. Mighty Milan, clear at the head of Serie A, bristling with world-class footballers skilled in the particular wiles of winning in Europe, we took them on and left them bewildered and whinging.

This was a remarkably mature and composed performance. Throughout we remained poised and self-assured, playing with purpose and unshakable focus. Injuries, substitutions and our opponents’ calculated determination to disrupt our concentration by fair means or foul, mostly foul, were brushed aside. The game was all there was. Such was their application, if the city had gone up in flames around the stadium, Palacios would still be tackling, Sandro tracking back, Van der Vaart and then Modric prompting, Crouch labouring heroically, Dawson and Gallas a brick wall at the back.

These and others crafted highly impressive individual displays but the victory was all about the team. From first to last they worked their socks off for and on behalf each other. Whether it was the wide men dropping back, Crouch being available up front or Rafa slipping between their back four and midfield, not once was a Spurs player in possession left isolated, nor a defender left exposed. A mate was always around to lend a hand.

Already I’m repeating myself but I can’t get over how smooth and assured we were. Over and above the individuals or tactics, of which more later, we carried ourselves with a confident collective determination that I’ve not seen from this team before. It was a self-awareness, a collective consciousness that transcended the combined talents of 11 footballers. It’s like watching your children grow up. There comes a moment when you suddenly realise that they become young adults. Gradual though it may be, there’s a point at which they appear to transform. Last night, these 11 had a sense of being, of being Spurs.

I confess: this blog is peppered with references to lack of resilience, concentration and leadership and I did not believe that we were capable of playing this way. In Europe, away, against Milan, at the San Siro. I’m struggling to recall a performance as momentous in similar circumstances. I say struggle – lying awake because the adrenalin is pumping hours after the final whistle, thinking about Spurs in Europe is hardly a struggle. However, I couldn’t come up with much. The team of the early seventies produced a draw under intense pressure, maybe also in Milan. I haven’t looked it up so I’m happy to be corrected, but it was the same thing, under pressure we stayed cool and controlled much of the game, Recognise the context: without exaggeration this one is right up there with the great away European trips of the last 50 years.

Hard to know where to begin, especially as I’m still reeling with the emotion of it all. I’m so bursting with pride over the efforts of my wonderful team, just hook me up to the National Grid and the surge will mean that global warming is a thing of the past. However, let’s start off the pitch. Redknapp set up the team perfectly. Given what has transpired, I have to pinch myself that this was a makeshift midfield that had never before played together, comprising a winger, one centre midfielder prone to errors, brainstorms and wayward passing, another who is only 21 and who has made only a handful of starts, rounded off with an arrival so recent he can barely find his way from the dressing room to the coach. Two world-class footballers were absent, although one, Modric, came on to great effect later. A matchwinner who has electrified Europe and twice destroyed the European Champions was at home, injured.

Yet we proceeded to outwit and out-battle Milan. From the outset, we pressed and harried, with a few little niggles into their heels, in safe areas far from our goal. Sandro covered and chased while Wilson pursued them like a man possessed. Seedorf, their key link between defence and attack, was pushed further back, rendered ineffective. Deprived of service, Milan’s two strikers were largely anonymous in the first half. Rafa inserted himself between their midfield and the back four, chasing again to prevent attacks developing from deep and constantly occupying the attentions of their back four and defensive midfielder. He prompted and crossed, always dangerous with his shooting, and the turn and chip was utterly exquisite.

Because Milan play with little width, Pienaar could come off his wing to make the extra man in the centre when we had the ball. He’s a skilful, shrewd addition to the team. Here, he helped us hugely with the main task, that of retaining possession. Lennon was a constant threat, upping the pace and the anticipation as he repeatedly took on and beat his full-back. Just as valuably, both men dropped back to cover when we lost the ball. Noticeably we learned the lessons from earlier this season, from the San Siro in particular, where the wide men stayed too wide. By staying tight, we restricted Milan’s space in front of our area, precisely the space that VDV was exploiting so effectively at the other end.

Another confession: loving it, I was equally waiting for it all to end. i thought we would be pegged back at the start but no, right into our stride and on top. Flowing effortless movement on and off the ball, diagonal crosses to Crouch causing problems. Only a matter of time before Milan pulled themselves together. Ok then, 30 minutes gone now, nothing from our opponents but we had gone quiet too. They decided to handle Crouch by giving him a sly nudge with the keeper coming way off his line to claim the ball. His substitution could upset that tactic but we sat back and didn’t pressure him.

Half time now, we’ve dominated. Pato on, we’re pushed back, can’t get hold of the ball. But still Milan fail to make serious inroads. Palacios and Sandro diligently track back, patiently waiting for our chance. Two men out when the Italians attack down the flank, bodies between them and the goal.

VDV brilliant but tired. Luka on, two weeks after a serious operation yet as fit as a fiddle, smoothly settling in slightly deeper but what we needed, collecting the ball, moving it on, foot in with the tackle. probably pre-planned, kudos again to Harry, knowing we needed Luka’s game at this point. It was then, as we got onto the ball once more, that I realised this wasn’t going to change. We stopped Milan from playing. Flamini would have been sent off in the Premier League, no question, but he achieved his gaol – do some damage. I feared Gallas on the flank could be a problem. he was caught out once and scampered back, no damage done, never again to venture forward. Otherwise, immaculate. Benny’s expression, unchanging mild surprise, up and down the flank, calm in defence.

Don’t want to dwell on Gattuso’s ill-advised confrontation with Joe Jordan – I know who my money was on – for fear of drawing attention from our wonderful victory. Suffice to say that needle is part of the game whether we like it or not. Gattuso tried to take us on. He says Jordan had been having a go throughout the game ‘in Scottish’ (has the joy caused me to become delirious or is the Italian married to a scot?). Whatever, Gattuso failed on and off the pitch. A sign of our superiority that that had to resort to the roughhouse to put us off but they singularly failed to knock us out of our rhythm. Spurs won that confrontation too.

Unfair though it is to single out individuals, Sandro was astonishing. As I said on Saturday, he drops back naturally into the back four when the ball is out wide or tucks in just in front of the back four when it’s in central areas. Alert always, he tirelessly tracked runners into the box then was fearlessly decisive in the challenge. This man could be the lynchpin of our team for years to come.

Plaudits to two men I have criticised in the past. Alongside Sandro, Palacios gobbled up the yards and the ball whenever it was in reach. The two of them shielded the back four so they had to do their work where they are at their best, in the area. The mighty Dawson did not let us down. Only twice was he forced out of position, such was the protection, and on both occasions he won the ball. And Crouch, dear Crouchie, Simply – on the night we could not asked for more.

Then, a moment dreams are made of, where legends are created. Humble beginnings. Sandro wins the ball for the umpteenth time and Luka touches it on. Suddenly, Lennon’s pace takes the breath away, he’s off into the wide open spaces, defenders shattered in his wake. No aimless run this, the ball is perfectly under his spell. A touch just a little touch sideways and it’s in the back of the net from Crouch.

Normally I like to hold the real-time memories of goals in my head, the blur, the thrill, the exhilaration, but this one, in the low angle replay, Crouch turns to the camera, arms outstretched, no choreographed goal celebration, just genuine joy, while in the background Lennon wheels away in the opposite direction, in his own world, arms similarly outstretched, the joy of the provider as great as that of scorer.

Let’s end it there, although I could go on for pages. Because the game is ultimately not about the formation or tactics. Rather, it’s about the blissful exhilaration from moments like these, the unconfined overwhelming joy of such a complete performance plus, lingering today, a glimpse of the future in the staggering potential revealed last night. To unashamedly borrow a well-worn phrase – this is glory, this is style. One of the best displays in the last 30 years. Magnificent.