football

Superjan Struck Down By Kryptonite Posioning

/ Alan / 6 Comments

Look! Up in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Sure, Superman is faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, he may be able to leap tall buildings with a single bound but could he keep the Spurs defence together? Superjan can. Vertonghen can do the lot. Centre half, he’s assured and quick. Switch him to left back, the whole team is transformed. He takes free-kicks, he scores from other people’s. Charging heroically upfield, he scores too (I know it’s been adjudged an own goal but that United effort will always be his to me).

Last night, we discovered that somewhere inside Carrow Road, there’s a chunk of green kryptonite hidden away. Unsuspecting, he took the field only to find his powers drained from his body. Ten minutes later, he was revealed as a mere mortal. Norwich wear green shorts. Coincidence?

Villas Boas clearly believes in his powers. When Vertonghen came on as substitute, Spurs were on top as they had been from the kick-off without ever playing especially well. Norwich were cranking up for a final ten minute fling. Throughout the second half we had tried but failed to add to our single goal lead, so the manager decided it was time to protect what we had. Hardly radical, although it was a surprise to see Vertonghen slot into a central defensive midfield position. An extra defender who can also turn defence into attack couldn’t do much harm.

But Superjan looked odd to me. Normally focussed and keen, he didn’t look as if he had the appetite for this one. From a corner, he airily waved a leg at a shot that was going well wide and deflected it in. A few minutes later, from a free kick that was wrongly awarded to Norwich, he lost his man and Holt headed down for Jackson to tap in the winner. A complete turnaround against the by then well-established equilibrium of a match where we were the better side but failed to score the goals to confirm our superiority. Dempsey then missed a penalty to complete our indignity.

AVB is a meticulous man who has demonstrated his commitment to cup competitions by preparing strong sides in the Europa League and League Cup. However, in a sporting age where backroom staff outnumber the playing squad, little things make all the difference. I question why Vertonghen rather than Dawson or Caulker was marking Holt, Norwich’s most dangerous player. When the penalty was awarded, the players did not appear sure about who was supposed to take it. At least Dempsey had the guts to step up to the spot. Two small but crucial errors of preparation that proved decisive.

For better or worse, right or wrong, this blog is always honest with you, dear reader. I try to be consistent but when it comes to the League Cup, I confess to some hypocrisy. I can’t get too worked up about it, win or lose. Except of course if we beat Arse**l in the semi-final or reach Wembley, where suddenly it becomes a tournament we all want to win, officially designated ‘A Springboard For the Future’.

Neither should ew read too much into a single game like this one. Whatever the rhetoric, the players of both teams were not up for it as they would be for a league game. However, place it in the context of other recent performances and there were examples of unwelcome trends that Tottenham will have to work on if we are to prosper.

We don’t score enough goals, or to put it better, we don’t turn our superiority into goals. We have a tendency to look good and take up good wide positions – Bale and Falque (in the second half) were excellent. Falque has certainly developed his game and delivered 3 or 4 top class crosses plus one sublime cutting pass that took out the entire Norwich defence only for Bale to have a weak shot saved. However, there is nobody on the end of the crosses. Not enough bodies in the box and no figurehead striker. Either get one or play a different way because defenders can get heading practice on their training pitch not in competition. Without Dembele, we miss creativity in central areas. How we were spoilt with Luka and Rafa.

Connected with this, we sit back after we’ve scored rather than snuff out the game. To be fair, this was not so much of a problem last night. After Bale scored from range, we continued to keep possession well for a period but to retreat and hang on to just a single goal, as AVB is keen for us to do usually, is a game we’re not yet resilient enough to play.

Finally, there are too many games where a couple of players go missing. Last night there were extended periods where Siggy, Dempsey and Carroll were not involved. (In defence of a talented young player, Carroll demonstrated his customary involvement in the second half). It felt as if we were playing with ten men for much of the first half. Dempsey, a player I was pleased to buy, has not yet found his niche. There’s no doubt that Martin Jol got something from him that Villas Boas can’t.

Even so we were too good for Norwich. League Cup or not, this was a missed opportunity.

Weebles Wobble But They Don’t Fall Down

/ Alan / 11 Comments

 

The Spurs back four yesterday

Even after all these years, you do wonder. Is it just us that so totally dominates one half then disappears so completely in the second? Or can other teams perform the Halloween Jekyll and Hyde routine? Spurs eased past all Southampton resistance in the first half, playing some gorgeous flowing football in the process but halfway through the second period we were wobbling like a Weeble on speed.  Thanks largely to our two central defenders, Gallas and Caulker, we held firm when in the past we might well have crumbled. We wobbled but didn’t fall down and there’s a lot to be said for that. Not straighforward, never is, but 4th in the table is a good place to be this Monday.

This is Tottenham On My Mind’s 300th post. Not one for anniversaries really but those lovely people at WordPress remind me how well I’m doing, adding a quote from a well-known author to give this slave-to-a keyboard a boost. I preferred the 298th post but not even the BBC would celebrate that. Perhaps for a change I should ask a fan of another club to blog about matches like this one. Their perspective might be fresher. They could answer my question – I suspect it’s not just us but that’s how it feels.

They say it’s a sign of a good team that they win when playing badly. Another indicator is when sides notch routine victories without much of a fuss, in which case we still have a lot to learn. As against Maribor on Thursday, we failed to generate momentum from within when under a little pressure.

Centre-backs were the eventual stars of this game but at half time they had barely touched the ball. All eyes were on Bale and Lennon. Against his old team Bale lost his first challenge against a young full back then proceeded to shred his confidence into tiny, tiny pieces, first heading in at the far post, an unstoppable late run onto Huddlestone’s perfect cross, then producing a series of tantalising crosses that others should have made more of. On the other side, the Saints defence was largely absent and Lennon made the most of it.

Defoe missed the several beautifully crafted chances that came his way but it is a measure of his improvement this season that as he cocks the trigger, you expect him to put them away. But a goal up and  the pleasure of enjoying the way we were moving the ball around, fluent and effortless football at times. Dempsey remembered how he plays the game, one or two touches then move, in stark contrast to last week where he held onto the ball for an age each time he had possession. It just confused him. He was effective but has yet to build up a partnership with Defoe – they could be good for each other. He popped up for the second, though, reacting quickest to a loose ball after Defoe’s fine run and shot had been cleared off the line. We’ve missed those poacher’s goals these past few years. Now he and JD are in the right place, right time.

Southampton were awful – they left too much space, the ref probably counted how many men they had on the field. Second half, they decided to turn up finally and quickly our possession game broke down. We shrivelled like shrink-wrap exposed to a flame, curling up until we were pressed back to our own box, seldom emerging except for fleeting moments of promise that disappeared as quickly as they came, as we generously presented the ball back to our opponents.

Saints banged over the crosses and pinched a smart goal from a corner, another rebound, this time from Friedel’s save, but he had an unnecessary amount of room. For 20 minutes we could not keep hold of the ball at all. I intended to comment that Dempsey and Defoe disappeared but then realised the same could be said for most of the team at this point.

Livermore epitomised the problem. I like him as a player – quick feet, willing to take responsibility, decent passer with a good engine. Last weekend AVB brought him on to pep up the tempo – win the ball, pass and move. He tried the same this week, replacing the ponderous Huddlestone but it was a complete failure because Jake showed the other side of his character, giving away possession and unnecessary free kicks, one of which began the passage of play that resulted in their goal. I’m disappointed – he simply must put that aspect of his game right.

They had a few more chances but the majority of their efforts were headed away by the excellent Gallas and Caulker. Big Willy is one of those players I would not have picked for yesterday’s game but I’m glad to see him there, and if that doesn’t make sense it’s intentionally contradictory. He was poor last week but he is so shrewd and determined in the box. He misjudged a bouncing ball early on then did not put a foot wrong, winning virtually everything that came his way. He’s also a fine tutor for young Caulker, who grew stronger under pressure.  They won the game for us. Despite the pressure (and my anxiety), Saints made few chances and Friedel few saves in the final quarter and we ran the clock down well enough towards the end.

Hudd was in and out, some good, some not so good but never quite finding his range for his long passing. Lovely moment for the goal, though – if you see it again, watch how he’s looking for bale without looking at the ball yet he knows exactly where it is and delivers an inch-perfect ball. Sandro was strong defensively, culminating in a headed block that knocked him over but not out. He rose immediately, brain scrambled but his mind on one thing, stopping the next attack.

Maribore

/ Alan / 6 Comments

It’s half-time in a Europa League group that’s a marathon not a sprint. Two clichés for the price of one there. Full value from Tottenham On My Mind, as always. I’m sure you’re grateful.

What the hell, let’s take this stuffed doggy toy of an analogy, sink in our jaws, shake it about and rip the innards right out all over the living room floor. Always a pleasure and a privilege to watch the mighty Spurs but be honest, that game felt like a marathon at times. Still, in terms of the group, long distance races tend these days to be a tactical battle with the runners clustered in a group until the closing lap or two. The tension builds as the bell approaches but much of it is a waiting game. If Spurs were Mo Farah (stay with me, it will all be over soon), we’d probably be holding our position in third, saving energy for the finish but keeping Brendan Foster on the edge of apoplexy.”He has been the fastest! He is the fastest! He will be the fastest!” There’s nothing wor Bren likes more than conjugating a verb during commentary.

Remember that the Glory Glory days of memory were in the much missed era of a knock-out competition over two legs. The group tends to prolong the agony rather than the suspense because the latter fades away into boredom long before the end. Win the three home games and that should be enough. We have drawn one, against the best of the other three teams, with two home matches to go. Maybe the suspense is cranking up a notch after all. By then, let’s hope we still care.

Villas Boas seems satisfied thus far. He clearly prefers to hold what we have so rather than pressing for a winner in a game where Maribor and their fans were delighted with a point against the world-famous Spurs, we finished with two defensive midfielders and our fullbacks well inside our own half. The away point will do. We were lethargic for extended periods and even when the uppers in the half-time tea started to work in the second half never made enough chances to be comfortable.

Maribor defended well, almost welcoming the opportunity to funnel back to their own box where they restricted the space and marked tightly. They were more sprightly on the break than we expected therefore we could never settle. Their forwards were disconcertingly able to find room around the edge of our area and after a few scares they scored first, a fine run that left Walker a spectator, Huddlestone bamboozled and Lloris nowhere before scoring. Like many of their chances, it was skillfully made but poorly defended. Giving the ball away in midfield was once again our undoing, Townsend the culprit. He was punished but was by no means the only sinner as we tried to come inside and beat players when there was room on the flanks and passing is for us much more effective.

Falque helped to brighten up our performance with some good work down the left. He set up the goal. Defoe was turning away to celebrate his sweetly struck shot from a rebound but instead saw it strike the back of a cringing defender on the line. It ran to Sigurdsson who mishit it home from a matter of feet. Messy not Messi, and when we had attempted to replicate Iniesta’s wonderful goal against Celtic by delicate passing interchanges inside the box, Maribor easily crowded us out.

Still, we made our good fortune on that occasion by attacking the box and having several players ready and waiting. Far too often we were crossing to a lone striker. When Sandro advanced to support the attack, we looked better but otherwise we badly missed Dembele’s combination of strength and creativity in midfield. Siggy seemed as if he was trying to both set up chances and be on the end of them. He ended up doing neither . Throughout we looked weak up front and seldom picked up the tempo to a pace where we know we play better. Huddlestone offered no drive from the centre. Like him, much of our play was ponderous.

It’s an art to get out of the Europa League group with the minimum of effort.  We are fielding strong teams so there’s little rest for several of our top players. An early win can make everything so much easier – we clearly went for it which is why it was so disappointing to concede to Panathinaikios in a game we dominated. I suspect AVB would like to be thinking about resting players when in fact we have to go hard to qualify. Ironically it should spice things up a bit. The games at the Lane will have something at stake.

AVB, like me, does care about this competition. He’s right in thinking also that it will help the team settle into his pattern of play. Frankly this result won’t figure much in the history of Tottenahm Hotspur and we can’t read too much into it. However, as part of the learning process, Spurs must develop the ability to up the tempo and take the game to inferior opponents, even for a spell or two in each match. We have to keep our heads rather than get on top then take turns to blast aimless longshots, as we did last night.

Kyle Walker: Victim of a Culture of Unrealistic Expectations

/ Alan / 32 Comments

After the game on Saturday, Kyle Walker received several abusive tweets and deleted his Twitter account. This sorry episode followed what is fast becoming a depressingly familiar pattern: player joins twitter. Fans welcome this and follow. We can interact with our heroes. This temporarily bucks the trend of increasing separation between Premier League clubs and their supporters. Fan insults player. Player says why do I bother. Player deletes account. Player more reluctant than ever to communicate.

The textspeak insults were pathetic and small-minded, like the people cowering behind the anonymity of cyberspace who posted them. Twitter is in a froth about it all, predictably. The good guys are trying to get Kyle to come back, although if he’s not on twitter, he won’t see it….

So what’s to be made of this? Reading some of the coverage, it feels like there’s been a cataclysmic rending of the Spurs firmament. Fans at each others’ throats. Players alienated from fans. Let’s have a go at the team while we’re about it. High up the league, fast improving, fine players but lose to a team racing clear at the top who spent more on three midfielders than the value of our team plus the bench and it’s AVB out, Walker out, Levy out. 606 is as unreliable a guide to opinion as Twitter, but a Spurs fan rang on Saturday to say precisely that, describing our performance as the worst he’d seen in 30 years. Couldn’t have been a real Spurs fan, then.

Twitter is a lot of fun but sometimes it suffers from delusions of grandeur. Designed as a method of conversation, it becomes reified into a self-contained universe. Not one conversation but the only conversation. The delusion is fed by a media hungry for opinions. It’s referenced with increasing frequency. Who needs a contact book compiled painstakingly over many years of scoop-seeking when you have a ready-made source of quotes at your fingertips, conveniently packaged into 140 character soundbites.

I trust those weasel misbegotten nogoodniks will crawl back under the stone from whence they came. It should be easy, they have no backbone. Back in the real world, after his dire error, the Shelf groaned then gave Kyle Walker a warm round of sympathetic applause from the Shelf. A few stood to emphasise the point that there’s a difference between a bad player and a player having a bad game. Loyal fans who put that mistake into context. The young full-back heard that and will remember long after Twitter becomes the MySpace of the next decade.

That context recognised instinctively by the Shelf is sadly lacking from the appreciation of many football fans these days, not just Spurs supporters. Devouring the game through television provides valuable insights but fundamentally distorts the nature and equilibrium of this finest of all sports. It’s safe to sit back and judge from the armchair gantry where everything is spread out before you. Slow it all down, watch a key incident 37 times from 6 different angles, only then decide a player’s ability. It fosters a culture of blame where perfection is the sole acceptable option and condemnation follows swiftly for anyone who dares to fall short.

This culture of unrealistic expectations distorts our entire perception of the game, of what clubs, players and referees for that matter are capable of. Nothing exists but the here and now. Spurs have a new manager and new players so why aren’t we top of the table? We’ve had several matches already. Just buy lots of players. It’s what other teams do. Refs are rubbish, even though we’ve seen an incident repeatedly and still can’t decide whether it’s a surefire penalty. Players are not all they are cracked up to be. Look, they make mistakes. Let’s get some stats to back it up.

Back in the real world, players’ form goes up and down. Hardly a staggering insight but in the universe of the unreal, it is forgotten far too frequently. The two finest midfielders I’ve seen at the Lane, Hoddle and Gascoigne, had more games when they were largely ineffective than glory games. It doesn’t diminish their stellar achievements one jot because that’s merely the nature of football. The way Ginola was lauded at half-time, you’d think he was Hod and Gazza rolled into one. I enjoyed watching him play, but just so you know, they show those goals against Barnsley and Leeds over and over partly because they are superb but mainly because there aren’t many others to choose from. For every moment where he turned a game there were twenty others where he slowed everything down intolerably or ran, however elegantly, into a blind alley.

In the real world, I’m fortunate enough to sit in row 14 of the Shelf, almost opposite the benches. The players are close, real-life flesh and blood, stained and steaming. When they hug the touchline, I can count the beads of sweat on their brow.

It’s a perspective that means I’m particularly close to wingers and full-backs. For that reason, I’m particularly fond of them. They can’t hide. I’m not seeing them through a prism of slowmos or tactics graphics. Right there. I see their faces and under pressure, I can see into their minds. I see elation, indifference and fear. Lots of fear, you’d be surprised. They cover it up but not from me.

So I see Kyle Walker as the most focussed and committed of Tottenham players. I am convinced of it. Towards the end of last season, he was knackered. Sure, I know they play once or twice a week, should be fit enough blah blah. But pounding up and down that wing, forward and back, being nudged and pulled and kicked, he was tired. His legs were plastered with support tape as if stuck together with sellotape. In a quiet moment, he would bend double to catch his breath.

And he did not stop. Over and over, his determination to overcome the pain in his legs and his guts kept him going. His determination to be a good professional. His dedication to the shirt. Our shirt.

Walker is not playing so well this season. His poor positional play is being found out. Late on Saturday I looked for his runs to support Lennon as we sought an equaliser but there was nothing. I don’t know what caused it but he was shot through. The England trip, a virus maybe but he was off-colour. During a lull, he went to the bench, ostensibly for a drink but taking on liquid that late will have no effect whatsoever on his body. He needed a boost, words of soothing reassurance to quell his anxiety.

Exhaustion seeps from muscle to mind and when called into action next he made two horrendous mistakes in as many seconds and they scored their fourth. He made one final dash upfield in desperate atonement, stiff-legged and too late. Instinct propelled him forward.

Kyle Walker is not a bad player, he’s a fine footballer who is not playing well. He’s young and will learn. His pace gets him out of trouble most of the time but not always. Defenders need games to add positional nouse to their talents. He will succeed and but he has nothing to prove to me. I know he plays for the shirt.

Thanks to my cyberpal the @Lustdoctor. Blog in the blogroll to your right. Essential. Our conversation on twitter generated some ideas for this piece. Oh the irony.