Spurs v Bolton. That Will Do

May 2, 2010 / Alan / 9 Comments

Job done: one down, two to go. On the morning after the afternoon before, the prevailing emotion is one of raw anticipation for the City clash but at the final whistle sheer relief was the only feeling on my mind.

This is Tottenham – we never make it easy for ourselves. I never for a moment believed that this would be the lull before Wednesday’s storm and sure enough Bolton proved to be well-organised and motivated opponents. However, we had enough space to do what we do best yet seldom passed the ball through midfield. Movement was stilted and we gave the ball away needlessly, time and again.

I didn’t gain the impression that the team were stage struck, immobilised by nerves. Our play was not so much hurried, rather it broke down through basic failings around poor control, especially from the strikers, and a lack of purposeful mobility, which meant that without a passing opportunity, we were often caught in possession.

If ever there was a match when Luka needed to buzz then this was it but he suffered the most. He worked hard but had little impact overall. In my preview I noted concerns at the form of our strikers and take no pleasure in having those confirmed. Pav was awful, consistently out-muscled by Cahill (if we need another centre half in the summer then we could do a lot worse than look at him) and his woeful control meant that we could never hold on to the ball whenever it was played forward.

Not Pav

When the chances did come, one early on and then later as Bolton were stretched, he either fluffed his lines or was in the wrong place, hanging back when he should have been hammering towards the edge of the 6 yard box. In the second half he applauded the Park Lane as they lifted his flagging spirits with the chant of ‘Super, super….’. No one had the heart to tell him that it was directed towards Gary Mabbutt who had been spotted in the crowd.

Defoe looked brighter in the second half and should not have been taken off. That shot that went just wide resulted from one of the very few passes ahead of him into a channel that he has received in the last three or four matches, but again he looked lethargic, the tell-tale sign of his anxiety being the unwelcome return of his old fault, drifting offside.

The game began in an atmosphere more like that of a derby than a home encounter with Bolton. Not since the cup and league encounters in the same season in the 70s, when we were both vying for the top spot in the second division, has this fixture produced such a noise. They must have been shocked, they can’t be used to this.

Buoyed by the waves of support, we started well but it soon became apparent that we needed something out of the ordinary to break through. Which

The Statue Formerly Known as Kaboul

Huddlestone duly provided, a sumptuous first time clean strike rising all the way into the very top corner. At such moments, this big ungainly man is transformed into the epitome of athleticism, body and mind in complete harmony. A electrifying experience, worthy of winning a match.

He was our best player because throughout the match he sought to be available for teammates and remained inventive, probing and passing short and long. One deft run from defence carried him past several tackles and set up the forwards, who once more let him down. Under pressure, Tom did not shirk his defensive responsibilities either and when he did make an error tried to rectify it as soon as possible. My main criticism of him in the past has been his lack of awareness and anticipation. He doesn’t read the game well. If the first yard is in the head, the message takes a while to reach his feet. Yet yesterday his positional play was sound and one occasion in the second half he set off to cover a potential gap before his stray pass had even reached the opponent. He’s not played well recently and in the past has hidden in the big games, so all the more reason to praise him now.

In the man of the match stakes, his goal would give him an edge, such was its thrilling brilliance, but close behind were several defenders. King was unobtrusively dominant. There’s an economy of effort about his play these days. He sort of slides over the ground, a series of rapid short strides transporting him to wherever danger lies, then snuffing it out. This belies his strength: one consequence of his injury is that presumably he has plenty of time to work on his upper body. Davies tried to make him give ground, to be met each time with steadfast refusal. When players make the game look straightforward and effortless, it’s a sign of greatness.

Dawson again performed with admirable solidity, coming into his own in the second half when first Bolton pushed us back and then drove a series of crosses into the box. But the big surprise, and very welcome it was too, was Kaboul. Formerly known primarily for his statuesque performances, in comparison making Hud look as agile as Beth Tweddle, he repeatedly stampeded down the right, showing pace, awareness and considerable skill. Towards the end he remained calm as the tension cranked up, timing tackles impeccably and using the ball with care. He and Lennon linked well in the short time they were together.

Last but not least, Gomes was decisive coming off his line and sprightly on it, on the few occasions that he was called upon to make a save. He makes better choices now between catching and punching, the majority of the latter achieving decent and safe distance as he emerges fearlessly into the ruck of bodies in front of him to clear the danger. His absence on Wednesday just does not bear thinking about, especially as he seemed to injure himself in a moment of needless effort. Let’s be honest, he can be a bit of softie, asking for the physio to come and tend to a speck of dirt on his gloves. I hope it’s not too bad – it was a good time to break up the play (added time had begun) and if he had been badly hurt, surely he would not have joined the lap of honour, although probably that would have disappointed his young daughter who he carried in his arms and who clearly enjoyed it far more than most of the squad.

If this central defence stays tight and taut, and does not get moved around by City’s pace up front, it provides our best chance of a point or three on Wednesday. They work tremendously well together as a unit and also enable the ball to come smoothly from the back.

We never do it the easy way. Bale and Lennon provided a taste of what we might look like with them both in the team as Bolton came forward and the space opened up, but a succession of good chances were squandered. In the end it did not matter but would have eased the suffering in the stands. The moment when the ball was swung wide to Bale who hit it first time across the box was breathtaking. Clearly a training ground manoeuvre.

Afterwards Dawson took the plaudits for Player of the Year. Waiting in the tunnel, he could not resist nipping out to get a better view of his highlights on the big screen. He’s terrific.

The lap of honour was a desultory affair, the player hidden under rainwear and apparently keen to get into the warm and dry again. No left-over goodies from the Spurs shop tossed into the crowd. No footballs booted into the stands. I’ve come to expect such corny theatrics at the end of the home season. No one was bothered – perhaps like us they had thoughts only for City.

Befuddledstone, More Like…Oh Dear

February 15, 2010February 15, 2010 / Alan / 21 Comments

Spurs v Bolton – we could have lost, should have won, and we’ll win the replay.

I doubt very much if there is a team in the League that is more frustrating to watch at the moment than our beloved Spurs. Capable of so much, we deliver so little at times. Used to asking the question pre-match, ‘which Tottenham team is going to turn up?’, after yesterday we now have to pose the same query at half-time as well because who knows what they are going to come up with? Problem is, I suspect they don’t have any idea either.

Players make mistakes and teams go through bad spells. Intensely irritating but after all these years I’m used to it. What really grates, what digs around deep down inside and contorts my innards into a tight aching throbbing mass of bile-filled fury that bubbles and froths until it is fit to burst open the lining of my stomach, shatter the rib cage and spew into the light drenching the room with rancorous acid, is when we don’t learn. And round about now, it feels like we never learn. Nine days ago our performance against Aston Villa was arguably the best of the season, albeit with a few too many long balls. We dominated the match by imposing ourselves on a quality team and by sustaining our effort and application for 90 minutes. Our centre midfield of Wilson Palacios and Tom Huddlestone ran the show. A few days later, we don’t bother to get off the coach at Wolves. Redknapp was severely at fault with a team selection that unnecessarily disrupted our continuity but no such excuses yesterday. Watching from the high television position at the Reebok, at times our team looked like Subbuteo figures on a giant pitch, spread out far and wide and just as mobile. I would have given them more than a flick to wake them, I can tell you. Memo to HR- at the next team talk make sure they understand that when you talk about making space, it’s not supposed to be space for the other team.

And while I’m at it – Wolves, remember, no graft, concentration or application and the pain of defeat. This all meant nothing as they carried on from where they left off up there. Maybe there is no pain in defeat after all, but there is for us fans.

Freed from the evil clutches of the ogre Megson, Bolton skipped and gamboled in the wide open meadows of our midfield. Hud and WP clearly enjoyed their pleasant passing game, watching from afar as they made several chances. Mind you, marking Elmander, sitting back was a perfectly reasonable option, just wait for him to blaze it wide. And high. Into touch. Goal kick or throw in, it was all the same to him, and we defended well enough in the box under the Bolton set-piece bombardment.

Then came their goal, well-worked and very well taken by Davies. We failed to put any pressure on the ball in the centre of the pitch. Then, Dawson chose to go with his man across the box. He could have passed him on to a left sided defender but his choice not to should not have been fatal. However, not one of the midfield opted to drop back and cover, so we had only our back four in or near the box when Elmander (oh the irony) crossed it.

Still we did not get the hint. Hud and WP consistently failed to come back to cover their back four, and as absolutely nothing was going on up front, I really don’t know how they accounted for their time. The TV angle means you can’t see so much off the ball and of course ITV kept it especially tight for fear of revealing the sparsely populated Reebok stands and thus giving the game away that actually the Cup was not quite the attraction that every commentator stated it was, every 5 minutes. However, there were two other occasions where these two were ambling back in the face of a Bolton attack, whereas they should have been hammering back at full speed and with total dedication. Wolves would have, Villa would have, so why can’t we?

Enough of the first half. It was a stinking measly effort on our part, reeking of apathy. Harry’s half time team talk had no effect whatsoever as the pattern continued as if the break had not happened. Then Crouch beat the keeper to a cross, hit the bar and everything changed. Without playing especially well we were on top for the rest of the game. Not much of a plan was apparent but at least we had a spring in our step. Kranjcar replaced the sorry-looking Modric, a player upon whom the future success of the club depends but who left the pitch looking forlorn and unloved, reflecting on what was a poor effort on his part. The ease with which we took over said much about the standard of the opposition. They are a decent team, much improved under Coyle but they were stretched under pressure, especially from Bale, our man of the match with his determination, pace and direct running from left back. His advances not only provided chances but also cut off the lingering threat from Lee Chung Yong on the Bolton right as he had to firstly drop back to cover then was substituted in favour of a defender.

Defoe’s goal when it came was a fine move out of place with the rest of our display. He’s been wasting chances of late but this time it was one touch, a perfect touch, one goal. Sadly we didn’t give him much else as the rest of the afternoon was spent in frustration as Crouch’s touches went, well, nowhere near him. More long balls and, from Bentley, poor crosses – it’s not the way forward and Crouch’s good performance against Villa became a distant memory.

Penalties are all in the mind and most Spurs fans winced when Big Tom stepped into the role abdicated by Defoe. He hasn’t got the head for this sort of pressure. For a moment or two I was optimistic as he calmly kept his eyes firmly on the ball while the referee sorted the rest out. Having seen JD miss several penalties after doing a cocky little oh-so-clever Strictly Come Dancing run-up, what else is the lad going to do but his own version of the poxy paso doble. How could it have conceivably crossed his mind that he should take a penalty in this way, especially as Tevez converted a spot kick on TV only a few days before. Didn’t someone tell him? Doesn’t he know he strikes a ball superbly? JUST HIT IT! And Harry’s quote this morning about how in training he just hits them is frankly not at this point reassuring in any way.

I don’t know why I’m making light of this – it was pathetic. More self-inflicted harm from the Marshmallow Men. So it’s back to the Lane where we will win the replay. It’s the long way round but we are two games from a semi-final and if we play to our potential then the Cup is still on. However, the attitude and effort from the players needs to be massively improved before we can think of scoring a goal, never mind win a trophy. Redknapp’s managerial skills are being seriously tested for the first time since we climbed clear of the relegation zone about this time last year.

Finally, thanks and good wishes to the Spurs fans up there, who could be heard loud and clear on TV. I’m not sure the club deserve you.

Liverpool v Spurs. A Performance of Lettuce Proportions

January 21, 2010 / Alan / 23 Comments

We demanded strong and bold, what we were given was limp and lifeless. We were up for the moment, they were down in the dumps. It’s premature to describe the Liverpool defeat as a turning point, but after this and Hull, I stare at the table and see us fourth but by default rather than merit. The table does not lie, it’s what happens over a season that counts and there’s plenty of that season still to run, but last night in no way, shape or form did we look like a top four team.

Cameo performances typically brighten up a performance of any kind. In film or on stage, the actor seizes her or his brief chance in the spotlight to steal the scene and put on a show that is noticed. Last night a Spurs cameo encapsulated the entire night and the performer was indeed noticed but for all the wrong reasons. Closest to the pitch yet so tantalisingly far from the action, being a substitute requires a degree of resolution. Bassong must have had some idea before kick-off even that his services were likely to be required as once more Ledley’s prematurely creaking bones could give way at some time. Yet when called upon his mind was elsewhere, unable to offer the basics, like shorts. Finally on the pitch, he never came to terms with the fact that he was playing, missing tackles, late with a header and then conceding a penalty.

That foul made no difference to the outcome of the match – it was well and truly lost by then – but Bassong’s lack of mental application and fortitude perfectly sums up the approach of the entire team. Half a mistake, Daws not quite strong enough, and suddenly there is a gap for Kuyt to finish skilfully, a well-taken strike. Going a goal down early is tough but not insurmountable. I waited for us to get into our stride. Waited for us to get hold of the ball. Became frustrated as in the first half we lost possession so often, wanting to take three or four touches, to beat a man, where one or two would have done. Waited for the Croats to get on the ball and knock it around, it’s their game and here was the place to play it. Waited patiently, the second period came and finally the ball was ours, we were on top, we pushed them deep into their own half…

Nothing. Nothing but a smart long shot, a Modric chance and a couple of kerfuffles in their box. No pattern or intelligence. No one willing to take control. JJ and Wilson huffed and puffed, not everything came off but they won the ball for us on sufficient occasions only for nothing to come of it. Luka and Niko disappointed, drifting infield to be swallowed up by an eager Liverpool defence. In my preview I suggested they would be key. Without Lennon’s surging pace, they had to respond in a different but no less effective passing style, yet they seemed as confused as the rest of them.

I had warned that Liverpool should not be written off as a spent force and the performance that Benitez coaxed from them proves he remains highly influential in the club. They worked, covered and pressed, and when their legs tired did not wilt. Known for their open play, Liverpool on this night took heed of the success of their less illustrious counterparts and threw a stifling midfield blanket over us, as have Stoke, Wolves and Hull of late. It worked perfectly, and only some frankly awful finishing prevented them from handing out a real beating.

Nothing should obscure the fact that this was a ragged and intensely disappointing Spurs performance. However, now that we mention turning points, there was another one in this match. The Defoe goal should have stood. Active, phases, whatever – my view is that he was not offside. This is the second time this season that a controversial decision by Howard Webb has affected the outcome away against a big team, the first being the penalty he denied Keane versus Chelsea. Then as last night, we were not getting anywhere and such a moment could have brought us back into the match as well as testing Liverpool’s own fragile confidence.

Put into the context of the season as a whole, however, the point is that goal or not, we should not allow ourselves to wait for something to happen in order to ignite the passion and the football. We have to make it happen ourselves. In the same way, a shrewdly engineered two minute injury break broke what spluttering rhythm we had. Surely we had enough experience of that on Saturday to know how to overcome it. It says much for the lack of resilience in the team if we cannot deal with this.

Of the other players, Bale had another decent performance and apart from five minutes at the end of the first half where the ball was in his corner and he totally lost concentration, it augers well for the future. Not much more comfort to be had, I’m afraid. Crouch was awful, barely a single decent pass or lay-off in the entire match, let alone effort on goal, and Defoe was not far behind in the race for last place. Nothing stuck when the ball was played up to him and he spent most of the match in apparently increasing resentment that he was being tightly (but fairly) marked. Defenders tackling – the very nerve. And I genuinely forgot Keane was ever on the pitch.

Spurs v West Ham. A Fine Win.

December 29, 2009 / Alan / 11 Comments

Forget the scoreline showing a late second goal securing a relatively narrow victory, this was a match that Spurs dominated from start to finish. A series of fluent passing movements created a steady flow of goalscoring opportunities, whilst at the back our defence were largely untroubled by the poorest team we have faced so far this season.

Modric’s return presented an additional tool with which to dismantle West Ham’s 4-5-1 formation and we passed our way round their midfield to repeatedly expose the heart of their defence. Lennon proceeded to torment his full back who eventually limped off, fitness and confidence broken by the onslaught. His breathtaking burst to set up the first, hurtling at full tilt onto Defoe’s throughball, was one the finest moments of the season. The only danger is that we become too easily accustomed to such shimmering brilliance. I continue to marvel with slack jawed expectancy at wing play of the highest quality, a lost art consigned so I thought to another age and time. Modric was there to convert the cross and he joyfully celebrated in front of the Park Lane.

West Ham are a team of bit-part players searching in vain for a main character. Franco and Diamante are willing and neat, Collison highly promising and Stanilas’ pace can threaten but crippled by injuries they have failed to grasp the plot. If Zola (a man I admire as both player and manager) truly believed his post match comment on 5 Live that his team had the better of the second half then the pressure is sadly getting to him. To see Parker’s disconsolate figure disappearing down the tunnel as the celebrations for Modric’s goal subsided was an additional bonus. One up and their best player departed.

The opportunities continued to present themselves. We retained possession well for once, Huddlestone took up good positons and the little maestro drifted in from the left to remain involved. Assou Ekotto and Corluka, who had a good game, shrewdly using the angles with simple, effective passing throughout, supported well as they were under little pressure.

JD Celebrates His Goal With The Fans. pic Dylan Martinez/Reuters

We allowed the tempo to drop and so West Ham could at least dampen our attacking efforts. They set up their midfield to encourage us to move down the left in an attempt to cut off the supply to Lennon. Every so often we suddenly upped the pace around their box and chances would arise. Here is Modric’s great skill, holding the ball, passing it on and then a swift dart or first time ball. We combined well as a team today, one twos and neat triangles with support for the man in possession.

Gomes was seldom troubled, a fine late save from our opponents only real chance being his most notable contribution to a game where he was well protected by his defence. Dawson was again the pick, alert, muscular and decisive alongside Ledley’s reassuring presence. In front of them, Palacios had his best game for a long while, anticipating well and strong in the tackle. With all our attacking excellence, this was perhaps the most quietly pleasing outcome of the game. He has not only been off form, he has also been suffering visibly. This performance will do much for him and for the team.

I am wary of the cruise control on my car. Far from relaxing me as intended, I dislike the feeling of not being in total control and anyway slight adjustments are always required. Allowing the pace of our game to drop meant a false sense of security and could have been costly as we should have been two or three goals to the good by half time. West Ham went to 4-4-2 in the second half but fared little better. As the game wore on, our battle was increasingly against the tension that simmered around the Lane as we protected a single goal lead. A deflection or a breakaway, we’ve seen it so many times before as our superiority has been wasted, so relief all round as Defoe joyfully smashed in the second.

JD had a relatively quiet game but of course scored one and contributed to the other. This is often the way for a top class striker – does little but what he does do is potentially decisive. He’s not a patient man by nature; as the game wore on he was desperate to ram the insults down the throats of the Hammers fans and so resorted to the blasting the ball from further out, but when his moment arrived he kept his head. Also, he did not get himself so wound up that he was in any danger of dismissal as he was against Portsmouth.

Crouch had another of his frustrating days that I fear we are going to have get used to for as long as he plays for us. Seeing plenty of the ball he did not make good use of it and missed chances that would have eased any pressure, playing across the near post ball in the first half being the worst error. He might have been sacrificed for Keane but as the game went into the final quarter he offers the out-ball to ease pressure on the defence. Kranjcar might have come on earlier and his arrival invigorated a jaded midfield. He’s been excellent and was unlucky to be left out, but we are fortunate to be able to bring on someone of his ability. Harry presumably did not want to disrupt the team unnecessarily so Modric stayed on for five or minutes longer than his tiring legs demanded.

Towards the end, Lennon was working back and berated Corluka for not getting tighter to the dangerous Stanilas. Nothing untoward came of this, but that’s not the point. At the start of this season he would not have dared to address his more experienced team mate in this way. Not only that, he was right, showing how his tactical acumen is developing all the time.

So that’s four points and a good Christmas. And four clean sheets in a row, the first such sequence for eight or nine years. By not converting our superiority into goals we made harder work of this victory than was necessary but as soon as JD’s rocket went in, it was clear this was more about my nerves than the performance.

The photo is from the Guardian. I’ve credited it but I’ll take it down if necessary. I’ve used it because it is a great image.