Rookie Redknapp Wilts. Plus Win Exclusive T-shirt!

Unlike other games where the implications take time to sink in, losing at Wembley has its particular horrors. As the infernal shuffle towards Wembley Park tube grinds on, there’s nowhere to go. Nothing to do except look at the back of the head of the person who will be in front of you for the next half an hour (if you’re lucky) and absorb the burden of defeat. The manner and margin of Sunday’s beating only made things worse.

The wait was enlivened by cries of defiant loyalty from a few brave souls. I joined in, once. I really am  in that number but it didn’t make me feel any better. The group then struck up a chorus of ‘Thursday night, Channel 5’. I think it was directed towards a small group of Ch****a fans, so delighted with their team’s triumph that they couldn’t be bothered to hang around in the stadium to celebrate so they had become mixed up with us, those Spurs who had not fled the scene before the final whistle. Equally, it could have been a bitterly self-deprecating comment about our own season where hopes that so recently had been bright and buoyant were sinking before our very eyes. The way things are going, come mid-May we might be grateful for a place in the Europa League.

Things aren’t that bad – the 5 games remaining are an opportunity for redemption and we have the ability to get enough points to hold on to 4th at least. However, it’s not just the lingering Wembley blues that cast a gloomy shadow over our prospects. Make no mistake, despite the brave media statements this week about squad unity and determination, beatings like this affect players at the best of times, on top of which key men are off form and recent tactics have left us vulnerable. The side look knackered, overplayed, physically and mentally weary. It’s hardly the best way to approach the season’s climax but you can at least understand why the legs are aching.  Our biggest problem is why this description also applies to our manager.

Just when we need firm, decisive leadership, Harry Redknapp is left to rue the consequences of poor decision-taking in the recent past that you might expect from a rookie not a veteran. He revels in the role of wily old fox, seen it all, takes it in is stride. In reality, he’s never been in this position before. The years of experience have prepared him for most things in the game but not this. Being near the top of the league and in a cup semi-final is virgin territory for him and much of what he’s learned in the past is no preparation for the long season’s crescendo.

Like Harry, I’m not a big fan of squad rotation. However, it’s essential in today’s athletic, physically unforgiving game. I’ve been converted partly by the example of other teams – look at how Fergie makes changes for no apparent reason, until that is United come with a flourish this time every year – and partly by watching Walker and Bale at close quarters from my seat on the Shelf. Both are highly motivated and superbly fit. I can assure readers that it isn’t a question of not trying as both have played on through injuries on several occasions this year. Both would run themselves into the ground for the team, I’m convinced of that, and frequently do. Those punishing runs up and down the line are a regime that would deter the hardest 400m runner in training.  Both are exhausted.

The same goes for Scott Parker. If determination alone were sufficient, he’d run all day but he’s weak through over-work and has never been the same since his seemingly innocuous leg injury earlier this year. Redknapp has put his faith in these key men, turning to them repeatedly as every game becomes vital, but faith isn’t enough. Other teams use sophisticated technology to measure fitness levels and I assume Spurs can too, but Redknapp’s response is as about as modern as the magic sponge.

Granted he’s been unlucky with injuries. Huddlestone has become the forgotten man while Sandro, a man to offer defensive cover and midfield momentum, has never regained match fitness. His loss has been a huge blow because then Parker and Modric could have rested. After it happened, I wrote that Dawson’s injury could be a season’s turning point. Instead of a tough leader, an international, as centreback cover, we were forced to give Gallas and Nelsen too much responsibility. With Ledley’s legs finally giving up, we looked so vulnerable. I’m afraid I was right.

What concerns me more are the problems that we created. Corluka’s move left us with no alternative for Walker. Walker is now knackered. Pienaar’s versatility and experience made him a far better option than Krancjar whose play when we don’t have the ball is shoddy. I reluctantly accepted than no one of the required standard was available to buy in January but these unnecessary departures have made the combination of squad rotation and winning impossible.

When it comes to analysing a season, it’s tempting to seek turning points. For me the best of our play, though not the best game, was encapsulated in the second half away to Manchester City where we pulled back a two goal deficit then denied them any sort of an opportunity for 15 minutes before Defoe’s boot was a millimetre away from a famous day. However, if you want a defining moment, try the announcement of the sheet for the cup-tie at Stevenage.

Three at the back to combat a Division One side. That not only sent a negative message to our players, it was also a case of over-thinking the game. Although we never repeated that formation, it was the first in a series of tinkering alterations to our set-up designed to outwit our opponents but in fact succeeded only in unsettling our own players. Comfortable with one up front, a man (usually Rafa) linking midfield with the striker and another 4 in midfield itself, it didn’t matter so much if we went for the 4-2-3-1 that I think suits us best or two wide players. The players knew what to expect and it brought the best from them. That’s Harry’s great skill. The fullbacks offered width, the front players had room to move, the tempo was bright and we passed the ball brilliantly. The man on the ball always had support, always had an option.

Yet Redknapp changed it. Two up front and taking the game to the Ars***l was a disaster for us and transformed the season of our biggest rival for third place. Modric spent time on the left when he had done so well in the centre. By Norwich at home, HR still hadn’t learned his lesson and publicly focused on his weakness in saying he knew the set-up wasn’t right but he went ahead because others said it was best for us. A slight change on Sunday with Rafa dropping deeper but we were still too open.

If it were any other manager I’d talk about naivety but this is Redknapp. Ironically our best performance lately was probably away at Ch****a, where we kept it boring but tight, and could have won on the break. That’s what you do, make sure you don’t lose ground to your close rivals. Same at Liverpool away – boring but a point.  But at Wembley that was ignored in favour of another shape.

This guff about Redknapp not being tactically astute is all part of the Uncle ‘arry myth that I have never had time for, way before he was even a gleam in Levy’s eye. His Tottenham team has evolved, perhaps not as quickly as I would have liked but he’s stabilised us then dumped the big man up front approach in favour of the pass and move sensations that we enjoyed for so many months. His team, his tactics. I’m not up for this Redknapp is rubbish business that’s going around. This blog has unfailingly but constructively pointed out his failings but  he got us to where we are and we should not forget that.  Redknapp made all that happen and he deserves full credit, the best side since the Double it was said, but recent changes have undermined all that. Forgive me if I remain bewildered as to why he made them.

Twelve points from 15 may be a realistic target. Of the remaining games, Saturday’s is the most tricky. Rangers have some decent players, a reason to play and a manager who will tell his men to knock us about just like his  Blackburn used to. There may be no way back, however, because the players have picked up their manager’s lack of resolution and confidence is draining.

I doubt that the England business has affected Redknapp as much as the aftermath of the court case. Although he won, we can barely imagine the strain. After the case, I wrote about how people under great stress use it to keep to themselves going but when it goes, they find it much harder to stay focussed. Relief is a less powerful motivating force than the determination to prevail.

I hope Harry rediscovers his mojo. The signs are not good. Today he’s said something about hoping Chels get through because it means another game for them. Doesn’t he know that if they win the Champions League, 4th place does not qualify us. These 5 games are amongst the biggest challenges of his career.

I know you’re feeling low and downhearted. But cheer up – enter the TOMM T-shirt competition!

Those lovely people at Clothes 2 Order have sent me this specially designed t-shirt in high quality cotton

I could have kept it and you would have been none the wiser. But no. I’m better than that. Just answer this question and e-mail me at alan@tottenhamonmymind.com  and you will be in with a chance. Closing date: end of Tuesday 24th April.

Clothes 2 Order offer a huge range of quality personalised t-shirts, polos etc. Ask for this one or send a design of your own. www.clothes2order.com/T-Shirts

Who is this former Spur? His job before he joined Spurs gave a big clue to his playing style – what was it?

 

 

Spurs and Wembley. Nice Day, Shame About The Football

I’ve known worse times as a Spurs fan. Forgive me if for the moment I can’t quite name them. An afternoon so utterly dispiriting, the fans, the decisions, the outcome, that heart and soul are thoroughly drained. Not anger, though there’s just cause – the referee, the way we just slipped away without enough of a fight. Instead, a cloud of gloom and doom that like a moorland mist seeps through the layers and into the marrow, leaving aching bones and weary muscle.

A feeble attempt at coherence in this particular post. I hope the points make sense even if they don’t exactly fit together. It’s not a good morning, and anyway I still have a headache from the man behind me banging his crutch on the metal roof of the stand.

As ever the comedown is worse when the expectations are raised. Not so much a heightened anticipation that we would win, I hoped we would and believed we certainly could, but any day at Wembley starts off being a good day. Never take for granted the walk up Wembley Way, the childlike thrill as you exit the station. I used to watch the Cup Final as a kid and dream of being able to make that walk, to be part of it, part of history, and despite the dampening effect of this ludicrous kick-off time, as soon as the stadium came into view I was grinning absurdly. We took the photos, even though we’ve taken them before. I saw Jackie who sits in front of us and her brother and wanted to say hallo but lost them in the crowd, wanted to share my joy at just being there.

As the players gathered in the centre circle, people around me were still singing. I and many others asked for quiet, and quiet we had. Many of us remember the Leppings Lane crush at the 1981 semi-final when better crowd control and allowing people onto the pitch prevented a tragedy. In the event, it was only postponed and Liverpool fans lost their lives, not us. By the end of that semi, I had been pushed down to below pitch level. If the police had dealt with this as they did for Liverpool fans, there’s a high probability that I would have been killed.

So when a substantial group of Ch****a fans sing through a commemorative silence, deliberately provocatively sing, it’s deeply personal. It’s beyond me. It’s not the majority of their fans, who are decent people. Rather, it’s a group who feel that because their club buys success, because the club defends its captain’s actions regardless, because their club’s preferred option when confronting alleged racism is to delay the judicial process so he may fulfil fixtures, they themselves are not bound by the unspoken but powerful values of other fans. Shameful.

The expectations of a good day out were further dulled by a stilted opening from both sides. Each made and missed chances, each had their fair share of possession without being able to take control. We were a side searching for shape and pattern and never established that natural rhythm and tempo that has characterised much of our season. For every good move. Luka’s pass inside the full-back to a rampaging Bale, Lennon underused but bright, there was an untidy unnecessary loss of possession. Bale on Bosingwa could have swung the match our way but there weren’t enough bodies in the box to get on the end of the crosses. Adebayor couldn’t hold it and Walker’s error nearly let in Mata. He lost the ball but Cudicini, who had a good game, did well to stand up rather than commit as many keepers would have done.

It’s difficult to have a balanced view of a performance in such a highly charged atmosphere. What I’m really saying is that my emotions were all over the place. Anyway, knowing we now know, there’s nothing but doom but actually, that’s not accurate. Although we never played to our potential, we had two cracking chances. I’ve not seen any replays, but the slightest touch from Manu could have converted Rafa’s ball that hit the post, then Rafa’s header that was cleared off the line. John Terry’s knee has a lot to answer for this season. It saved a certain goal both here and in the league fixture at the Lane.

Then goals that were and goals that weren’t. Credit where it’s due – Gallas may have been able to do more before Drogba’s shot but in truth I’m not sure what. Sometimes you have to say that the forward is better than the defender. A fine goal, damn him. Gallas should not have been left isolated, however.

And then the goal that wasn’t. Again I’ve not seen a replay but have seen a photo. At the time, and I’m right up the other end of course, it looked implausible as there was a scrum of bodies, so why should they be behind the line. I saw the ref pointing and said out loud, “Our free-kick.”

A Blues fan from another office just happened to be in reception this morning. Coincidence, it works in strange ways… I made him a cup of tea and placed it 2 foot away from him. “There you are, mate, it’s in your hand. Looks that way…”

Then Manu is through, a rare moment when he looked threatening. A clear foul in my eyes (I’m happy to be corrected). The keeper should have gone despite Bale being on hand to touch it in. The keeper prevented a goal-scoring opportunity. the fact that the ball rolled loose is immaterial. Anyway, even so Cech should have been booked.

Look – I’m under no illusions. We never imposed ourselves on this match and after a brief period of hope we melted away, tired and listless. Neither is this blog in the habit of banging on about poor refereeing. However, these were two crucial match-turning moments.

I’d say this took the stuffing from us but twenty minutes from the end we looked dog tired. It’s been a long season. Key men have been out of shape since around the Stevenage game and even the incentive of a cup final couldn’t enliven them. Parker was late for 4 tackles before being booked and substituted. Rafa never got on the ball often enough. Usually he rises to the pressure, yesterday he disappointed. As I commented for the Norwich game, Modric looked decent on the ball but didn’t work to get on it as often as he should.

In my preview for When Saturday Comes  I felt certain that we would revert to 4-2-3-1 after the Norwich debacle. Redknapp himself acknowledged it was wrong. Yesterday was 4-4-1-1 but the significant problems caused by that midfield four remained. We were too open. Bale and Lennon did not work back enough to cover and when they did, they did not pick up the opponents. On two occasions Bale stood 2 yards from an unmarked Lampard, loitering at the edge of our box, but did not move to mark him. Parker and Modric had to both defend and attack.

As a result our creaking back four was unprotected. As the game went on, our opponents took grateful advantage. Gallas had his worst match for us, left cruelly exposed with no cover and nothing in his locker. King was pulled out of defence because there was no one in front of him and the ball was popped into the resulting gap for at least one goal and there could have been more.

Both Gallas and King made goal-saving challenges but they are not fully fit and Redknapp knows that. He should have nurtured them and allowed them to  defend where they do their best work, in the box itself rather than being stranded.

Similar comments for the midfield. He asked too much of Parker and Modric, knowing that neither is as bouncy as earlier in the season. Livermore or Sandro’s legs could have helped out. As it was, as mind and legs went, we were cut to shreds. As Lampard shaped to take his free kick, the 5 year old boy near me covered his eyes with his hands, hardly daring to peek. That sums it up, from those of us who were left by then. It was a defeat that’s hard to take but the swathes of empty seats with ten minutes left paints a picture of Spurs fans to the watching TV audience that is at odds with our loyalty. I understand the emotions but it looked bad.

Redknapp’s a vastly experienced manager but this is virgin territory for him. He’s never before been challenging at the top of the league and for a cup. He’s not managing this well. More on this for another day, but he’s placed too much faith in certain players who are crucial to the side but have not been looked after properly. Parker, Walker, Modric, Bale, the season’s caught up with them. Redknapp doesn’t know about how to save players as does Ferguson the master. His famed powers of motivation will be needed more than ever as the season slips away, but they weren’t in evidence yesterday evening. He’s made some poor choices lately.

On the train home we got seats. Chels still in the ground celebrating, most Spurs had gone already. The modern marvel of twitter brought up a photo of the goal that never was. I showed it around the carriage, incredulity all round. Nearly home and we consoled ourselves with other tales of semi-final gloom. Everton, Newcastle. The 22 hour round trip to Old Trafford, outclassed by Arse**l, the last coach in the car park after two people didn’t come back after the match. I knew there were worst times. Were there?

Livermore Grows Up As Spurs Ditch the Comfort Blanket

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.

Looking Back, This Could Be A Good Point

Everybody yearns to be up there, to be a contender. Yet we’re still puzzling over what success feels like. Here’s another side of it, being the envy of other fans. Top four, playing dazzling football. It won’t be long before the negative coverage begins. Players who have been doing well for an entire season will be picked on by pundits after a single poor performance, or young men playing out of their skin will fail to be at the top of their game for one of their 50 or so performances and people will pick holes. Redknapp’s standing with the media will protect us to a large extent but things will turn.

Enjoy it while it lasts – except we can’t, because it’s not always fun. On Saturday, resisting pressure for the most part and a goal to the good, Swansea significantly tip the balance in the last 15 minutes. We’re hanging in there, then the keeper and two defenders are drawn to the near post. The ball somehow eludes them all and as it squirms free across the box, there’s the stomach-upending so familiar from the old days, that moment when you know what’s going to happen before it does. The whole game flashes before your eyes….

Swansea’s possession game and their disciplined organisation collectively pushed us back early on and we never established our domination of territory or the ball for any length of time. It was as if their collective will imposed itself on our game. They have a few quality footballers – Redknapp paid Allen the compliment of  pushing Sandro on to mark him but like all classy players the Swansea man responded by doing even better. However, their midfield stifled at birth our efforts to get going by pressing high up the pitch and denying us possession. It’s amazing how few Prem teams have learned this lesson so admirably demonstrated by the Swans – however good the other team is, they can’t do a thing without the ball.

Because of this high pressing, our midfield were forced deeper. Modric and Parker never got going and Adebayor was isolated from his team-mates. Bale tried too hard to break the stranglehold. His free role works only if he comes from deep and his runs are unexpected. If he hangs around in the centre, he’s back on his heels and was swallowed up by eager tacklers. He would have been better staying on the left, cutting in when required. Benny found it simple enough to take the full back apart, not once but twice, then VDV pounced.

Although he was helped by a deflection, the goal appeared to signal the difference in class between a team at the top and the rest – sharp in the box when it matters. For all Swansea’s sterling efforts, we defended perfectly well for most of the match, restricting them to ooohs and aaahs from long shots. Pretty enough but the danger comes from what goes on in the box, not from range. Still, Kaboul had to make one timely stretch and as in previous games we looked frail at set pieces. Falling for the Sheringham corner was slack.

As the match reached its final stages, we seemed to have accepted our fate of being pushed right back but were apparently unconcerned, defending reasonably well and content to see out time until the final whistle. Moore’s surge into the box was only moment of genuine danger until Graham came on. His presence and movement tipped the balance in Swansea’s favour and although we should have dealt with that cross, they had several chances and deserved their point. Funny to see Friedel less than perfect. We’ve become used to better.

Great credit to our opponents, and few teams have scored at their ground let alone won. In the cold light of a frosty Monday morning, this looks a decent point. Last season we would have probably lost a tussle such as this one and of course we gained at least this single point on our rivals. The true value of this draw, however, will not be judged until the end of the month when we complete a run of winnable home games including the game in hand versus Everton that has achieved mythical status. Win those and an away draw when off the boil and against sound opponents will look just fine.

Parker looked unhappy and needs to look after that leg. It looked like a bump on the side rather than anything deep down. Let’s hope so.

The league will be wondering how to stop Spurs (another sure sign of how well we are doing!), so several managers will be scrutinising the DVD of Saturday’s game. As well as Swansea, West Brom in the first half and Chelsea for three quarters of the game stopped us from getting going by piling on the pressure in the centre of the pitch, so expect more of the same this month. We have to find a way of getting through this. The key is doing what we do best, keeping the ball despite the lack of space and using width from the full-backs especially. It’s another challenge and I believe  we are up to it.

Happy New Year to Spurs fans wherever you may be. Supporters from all round the world read Tottenham On My Mind, and each and every week I’m so grateful. Thanks to the regulars, the cracking comments sections and subscribers. Couldn’t do it without you, and here’s to a glorious 2012 for the club we adore.