Paul Gascoigne – A True Tottenham Great

March 9, 2010March 9, 2010 / Alan / 19 Comments

This profile of one of the finest players ever to grace the navy blue and white appeared first on http://www.sporting-heroes.net, an excellent source of pictures and information about Spurs, football and sport. Later this week, more reflections on Gazza the man.

Paul Gascoigne played football. That’s how Spurs fans know and love him. Not the World Cup tears, the media victim, the maddeningly infantile mischief, or the washed up celebrity. Forget that, because Gascoigne was simply the finest, most exhilarating talent of his generation with the capacity to astound and captivate by virtue of his sheer brilliance.

For three precious seasons, nothing else mattered. Gascoigne was a genuine rarity – a midfielder who really could do everything. When fully fit, which sadly was not consistently the case, he roamed midfield for 90 minutes, strong, alert, vigilant. Sublime passing allied with the vision to match provided rich pickings for attackers; first Waddle then Lineker prospered on a ready supply delivered with pinpoint accuracy.

In the area he snaffled chances with predatory instinct, but more frequently goals came from shots with pace and precision from around the edge or just inside the box. Free kicks were a speciality; walls were no obstacle, beaten either by power or by curling the ball in a graceful arc into the top corner.

The truly gifted stand out by their mastery of a distinctive skill, an exclusive, individual gift. Gascoigne’s was running with the ball at his feet. This was more than mere dribbling, although he could hold it close and weave a pathway through the tightest defence, both feet in total mastery of the ball. At other times, he would just collect the ball and run, characteristic 30 yard surges towards the opponent’s goal, elbows out for balance and protection, chest puffed out. Some defenders would be outwitted by ball-skill, others simply fell away as he breezed past. Then, as he approached the box he would disappear into a cluster of opponents, inexorably drawn to him, as were the eyes of every spectator, only to emerge from these seemingly insurmountable odds with the ball at his feet.

This precocious talent was already a regular for the Newcastle first team and England under-21s by the time Tottenham’s interest intensified after he scored both goals against Spurs in a 2-0 victory in January 1988, a performance the Spurs manager Terry Venables described as one of the best he had ever seen by one so young. As the season came to an end, a lacklustre Gascoigne felt unwanted by the club who had nurtured him since boyhood and as other clubs dithered Tottenham were quick to pounce, the £2.2 million fee a new club record.

Gascoigne’s talent amazed even the harshest judges of all, his fellow professionals. During his first training game at Spurs, he picked up the ball, beat 8 players and smashed the ball into the roof of the net. Everyone stood and applauded. His manager said that to see him play like that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

In the years that followed, he would come to inspire his team-mates to greater heights, but the effects took time to emerge. His much anticipated debut was delayed for a week as over-running building works at White Hart Lane caused the opening game against Coventry to be postponed, so his opener was away to Newcastle, a 2-2 draw. The home fans were less than enthusiastic about his return. He dodged flying Mars Bars whenever he approached the touchlines, a better day for local sweetshops than Gazza, perhaps.

Gascoigne received a much warmer welcome in his first home game against arch rivals Arsenal, without delay endearing himself to the crowd with a cheeky goal. Controlling a through ball from Waddle, he lost his boot as he entered the penalty area but still managed to round the keeper and score with his stockinged right foot. However, that match was lost 3-2 and Spurs struggled to find momentum. With two points deducted because of the Coventry postponement and only a single league victory, they were bottom in the first week of November. Gazza’s career was faring better, however. His individual performances were garnering rave reviews and he made his England debut in September, coming on as a substitute against Denmark.

His next goal, a curling free kick against QPR at the end of November, inspired a comeback, Spurs drawing 2-2 after being two down at half-time. This humble point signalled a gradual upswing in fortune. One defeat in December plus the two points restored saw Spurs end the month in the safety of 9th position. Gascoigne’s free kicks were fast becoming his trademark; another swirled into the top corner against Millwall. Any significant momentum dissipated early in the New Year on a muddy Bradford pitch as Spurs went out of the cup in the 3rd round. Another trademark, the roll of midriff fat, had by now disappeared and the young man’s eye-catching individual brilliance brightened months of mid-table mediocrity. Against Norwich in February he rounded the keeper to score the first in a 2-1 victory. March saw another free-kick fly over the wall to net another three points, followed by a solo effort away to Luton. Five wins in the last seven games propelled Spurs to a final position of 6th.

Paul Gascoigne began the 1989/90 season in fine form, matched by his goalscoring. His first came in late August away to Manchester City, followed by further goals at home to Chelsea and a rebound off the post away to Norwich. The admiration earned by his growing contribution to Tottenham’s flowing football was not, however, matched by results. The defence was leaking too many goals and Spurs were one off the bottom after 6 matches, with just the opening day 2-1 success against Luton Town to show in the win column. In October Gascoigne scored in a strong 3-1 win at Charlton (his fourth goal in six league games), a characteristically direct, surging run carrying the ball from midfield, into the box, throw in two or three short strides for balance then stroked past the keeper. In similar fashion three weeks later he powered through the Southampton defence, this time finishing by taking the ball around goalkeeper Tim Flowers.

His League Cup goal against Tranmere at the end of the month proved to be his last until late April, but as the goals dried up his influence soared, for in the shape of Gary Lineker, signed in the close season from Barcelona, he now had a foil perfectly suited to exploiting his talents to the full. Not only was this supreme goal-poacher the grateful beneficiary of the full range of Gascoigne’s passing, Lineker’s movement created space for himself and for his team-mates. If he drifted wide, Paul could drive into the space. As defenders clustered around, Lineker then inserted himself into the resulting gaps. Often totally by-passing their colleagues, the understanding that lead to 26 league and cup goals for Lineker appeared remarkably prescient but the reality was more prosaic, based as it was on a system of signals. Lineker’s nod and short run towards the opponents’ goal was in fact a dummy and Gascoigne would knock the ball short, while a spinning finger gesture mimicked the striker’s spin away from his marker in pursuit of a longer ball into space behind the defence. No matter: 8 wins in the last 10 games, crowned by a memorable first half display against Manchester United when Gascoigne scored and made the other for Lineker, achieved a final league position of 3rd.

Given his head in Italia ’90, Gazza returned as the nation’s favourite son and he began the season in high spirits with a series of ebullient performances and goals to match. He scored in the opening day victory against Manchester City and against Derby he single-handedly won the game with a hat-trick, two of which were classic free kicks, from a virtually identical spot thirty yards out, differing only in that one went to Shilton’s left, the other to his right. Both were simply unstoppable, as, apparently, was Gascoigne himself, irrepressible and mesmerising in a series of dynamic displays. Hartlepool at home in the League Cup was hardly on a par with Germany, but he destroyed the visitors, scoring four in a 5-0 victory. In later rounds he notched the winner against Bradford and another versus Sheffield Utd as Spurs reached the 5th round of that competition.

After a barren spell he scored twice in December in two away defeats to Chelsea and Manchester City, his last in the League. As his powers waned, so did Tottenham’s fortunes. They fell away after a steady start, winning only two League matches in 1991 and limping home a disappointing 11th.

But his greatest impact, not merely in this season but in his Tottenham career, came in the FA Cup. After a solid away win at Blackpool in the third round, Gascoigne delivered two scintillating performances, scoring twice against Oxford, including a stunning individual effort, and again at Portsmouth in the next round, the winner coming from a long ball, a shimmy then an unstoppable left footer from the edge of the area. In round 5, at home to Notts County, he atoned for an early error with a memorable display that lifted the lifted the team, culminating in a late winner after it seemed that intense Spurs’ pressure would come to nothing.

This was Gascoigne at his finest, inspired to hitherto unknown heights by the magic of the Cup, but it is the unselfconscious energy, bravado and joy of his game that lingers in the memory. One reason perhaps why the fans loved him, because he would respond to their sense of occasion, not with trepidation but as the key to unlock his true, almost limitless potential.

Yet unbeknown to his adoring public, all the while he had been carrying a hernia injury. Injections could no longer postpone the inevitable operation. Tension mounted as Spurs approached the semi-final, no ordinary game even in their illustrious history, for this was the first such match against bitter rivals Arsenal and the first ever semi-final to take place at Wembley. Gascoigne struggled back, his only preparation was half a game in a league defeat away to Norwich; he was substituted. His fitness was confirmed only hours before kick-off but Paul, roused not deterred by such drama, did not hold back. An early free kick, thirty yards out, struck with sweet certainty into the top corner, improbable, miraculous, glorious, the fan behind this author still bitterly castigating Gascoigne for his ridiculous nerve to shoot from that distance even as the ball furled the net.

Gazza leapt in the air with unconfined joy. He set up Lineker for the second and played a full role in a 3-1 victory that many Spurs fans still prize as the most memorable performance of the modern era.

By the day of the Final against Nottingham Forest, the drama had been cranked to fever pitch. As ever at Tottenham, turbulence off the pitch proved the catalyst for the theatre that was to follow on it. Rescue from crippling debt was possible only by selling its prize asset. Gascoigne went into the game knowing that it was to be his last for the club, an £8.5m fee having been agreed with Lazio. He started frantically, but this time the burden of expectation proved too great. An utterly reckless early challenge on Garry Parker went unpunished but signalled danger ahead. Later the referee reflected that had he been booked then, he may have calmed down. As it was, a few minutes later another dangerous high lunge at the edge of the box left Gazza and full-back Gary Charles in a heap. After treatment, Paul rose gingerly to his feet, only to see Stuart Pearce score from the resulting free kick.

Lucky not to be sent off, Gascoigne departed instead on a stretcher, an ignominious end to his Tottenham career, although Spurs went on to a 2-1 triumph after extra time. His victorious team-mates joined him at his hospital bed for the celebrations. The resulting injury meant a year out of the game, with the transfer to Lazio eventually going ahead, for a reduced fee of £5.5m. Although he was relatively successful in Italy, where he remains extremely popular with the Lazio fans, he never quite regained the excellence of his best Tottenham performances. For Spurs fans of a certain generation, Paul is but one thing, a true great who graced their colours with moments of genius. It was an honour and a privilege to watch him play.

Fulham v Spurs. Back to the Lane

March 7, 2010 / Alan / 10 Comments

So it’s back to the Lane next week, as I predicted in my preview. This in itself in unusual, getting something right in the preview that is, but there was always something about this fixture that screamed ‘draw’. Fulham are busy and well-organised but low scorers, Spurs more creative but since the four goals in the Cup we can’t quite do enough at the Cottage to score one more than them. And that’s the match summary, right there. We played well but lacked the cutting edge to make sufficient decent chances, Fulham had less of the ball but kept Gomes moving around without having the sharpness in the box, where it counts.

Following Harry’s remarks earlier this week that we can’t play 4-5-1, Spurs duly lined up with Crouch and Pav up front in the absence of Defoe. The pattern of the game was drawn by Fulham withdrawing their midfield into an area 30 or 40 yards in front of their goal when we had possession. Willingly we came on to them and moved the ball around well for the most part, searching for an opening, although at times we could have done so more swiftly. Modric was prominent in the early stages and had a good game. He’s made for that central berth. Always trying to make himself available and able to pass both long and short, able to pass quickly or hold it as the situation demands, he’s never on the ball for any longer than is necessary. It was noticeable how seldom he was caught in possession, and for that matter the same can be said for his team-mates, a sure sign that the support for the man on the ball was good throughout the team.

Crouch also had a fine first half, although he faded later. Two reasons; one, he stayed close to his team-mates rather than isolating himself further upfield as he has done too often this season. Two: decent service. We played it up to him early, accurately and firmly. No aimless hoofs, Crouchie kept moving and responded in kind with quicker lay-offs. This blog has always said that he could play like this and has become increasingly irritated by his performances over the last few months, but there’s evidence here to show that the long ball may have been imposed upon the team tactically by the manager, worrying in itself but that seems to be history now so we’ll let that one go for the moment. TOMM doesn’t forget, however….now there’s a threat to set Harry twitching, just watch him next time he’s in the dugout, you’ll see what I mean….

One of the sub-plots of the match was the comparison between the two big centre-forwards. Earlier this season I was somewhat disparaging about Zamora in my preview of the corresponding league fixture but yesterday as time went on he came into the match as Crouch disappeared from view. He’s come to terms with his limitations and under Hodgson’s wise guidance has become an effective target man, determined with his back to goal and looking to come on to the ball in the box. His team work well around him and he provides that extra second or two that enables the Fulham midfield to get to him and turn defence into attack. He provided Bassong with a stern test but for the most part Seb did well. As with the Bolton centre forward in the replay, Bassong was determined not to let his man turn. It was a fine tussle, which also provided a nice piece of commentary (not sure I’ve ever written that sentence before in regard to ITV…). Beglin rightly enthused about Zamora’s surge and shot in the second half, talking about how he put it across the keeper. Clive came in, quietly and dryly: ‘It’s gone for a throw-in.’

And that sums up much of Fulham’s efforts in the box, they didn’t quite come off, but in the first half they seldom approached our area, let alone the goal. I’m a big fan of Roy Hodgson and he had prepared well. His midfield were prepared to concede possession but not space in front of their box. We had the ball but no room. So it became a series of almosts and might have beens as our attempts nearly came off but not quite. Also, Roy put two men on Bale, something that he had better get used to. It’s easier to mark him when he’s in midfield because he starts his runs from further up the pitch. At fullback he comes from deeper and so is more difficult to pick up. Also, he can move later in an attack when defenders are already more committed. Despite this he coped reasonably well and occupied two men. If Duff is back, his attacking prowess is blunted, whihc in turn releases pressure on us. Modric picked up on this and switched play regularly to the right. However, Corluka had a poor game. He became the spare man and was the main target but his distribution was inaccurate with a series of wasteful crosses and passes. This to me was a crucial element of the match, we failed to take advantage of the spare man and amount of ball on the right that we had worked hard to achieve.

Fulham steadfastly reused to budge. We prompted and probed but did not really get very far. Pav worked hard but did not get past the white-shirted barrier. His control let him down too often, especially in the area. Again, like the Corluka comments, this was a match that might have been won and lost on the tiniest margins, so this mattered.

The second half began much as the first had ended. Fulham livened up a bit but did not really look like the home team until they went 4-4-2 towards the end. They slid the ball inside and behind our full-backs and if Murphy had been playing, his shrewd passing might have been significant. We were defending well and I wondered if this could give us the room to hit them on the break but it was not to be. Our solidity was due to in large part to Palacios’ determined sentry duty in front of our back four. He refused to budge, something that I’ve advocated throughout the season and again in the preview, and his disciplined performance was justifiably rewarded with a MOM award. He repeatedly broke up the Fulham movements and knocked it out to a better placed colleague. This strength enabled Modric and Krancjar to play their more creative game (I was pleased with Niko’s work-rate too) and really gives the team shape.

Other bits and pieces: BAE was quietly efficient, his brainstorm clearance in the second half aside. He just gets on with it, and I like it. We failed to capitalise on the corners because of bad delivery, and the same can be said for the long throws – Bale can do it so can’t we have a system to profit from it, as Stoke do, rather than have a loose informal gathering in the box as is the case now.

We have a great chance for a cup semi-final in the replay. We could have won it yesterday with more punch up front but on the whole a decent performance, credit Fulham with being an effective team in their chosen role.

Finally, a moan. The warm and respectful gesture to wear black armbands in memory of Keith Alexander was tainted by our use of black shiny gaffer tape. It smacks of hasty preparation. We should have put more into that – how long would it have taken to run something proper up, as our opponents managed.

Fulham v Spurs. Shuffle the Pack

March 5, 2010March 6, 2010 / Alan / 4 Comments

My last post has been so well received, I’ve finally found the level of my audience – urine and toilets. So that’s the future for TOMM…

Back to football and our vital cup quarter final away to Fulham. Something new to preview this week, an injury crisis. One day you’re knee deep in midfielders (oh dear, straying too close to yesterday’s toilet gags), next you can’t find one for looking. This weekend we may be able to judge the degree of success achieved by the policy of farming out youngsters to the lower leagues, rather than nurturing them in the reserves, now non-existent. Jake Livermore has some experience and is muscular, eager and athletic enough to warrant serious consideration for the centre midfield berth left vacant as Hud rests and JJ recovers from his groin operation.

But it is a risk, away from home against a redoubtable Fulham team who have overcome a recent blip and won their last four matches, including a fine two leg victory over the Europa Cup holders, no mean achievement. Yet the alternatives carry some risk too. Modric and Kranjcar have both played in the middle. Modric looks most comfortable there; he likes to be involved and the team plays better when he’s on form and on the ball. However, his presence could leave us weak defensively. He showed last Sunday that he’s not afraid of hard work and can put his foot in when it matters but he could be over-run by Fulham’s industrious and canny midfield.

Everything revolves around this selection. Livermore could mean the Croatian duo can maintain their balance on the right and left and give Modric a fraction more room on the left. Disruption is minimal. Modric will mean experience and greater creativity. And that’s what I would go for. Luka can handle himself and WP must hang back to shield the back four. Just don’t move, Wilson.

Next problem: up front. Defoe is ‘doubtful’. By the strict meaning of the word, he’s unlikely to play but I suspect that in football speak it translates as – he has a bit of a knock but Harry thinks he’s fit enough. Or maybe it means nobody knows until tomorrow teatime. I think he’ll start, a feeling with no basis in evidence whatsoever. If he’s not fit, it’s tempting to consider Gudjohnsen. His game is to drop deeper and link the midfield and the frontmen, handy if we need some help further back. But he’s not on his game. At all. The ‘game’ passed him by completely on Sunday.

Meanwhile, just when I turned my back for a split second, Crouch has become a nailed on world cup certainty and in the top twenty all-time England scorers. I had to work late on Wednesday and now look what has happened. Never again. There must be a better big striker in England. What’s that? Oh, well, apparently there isn’t. So that’s that then. Pav obviously, and if no Defoe it’s Crouch for me. Pav’s renaissance began when he played off PC at Bolton. On condition that we don’t wang the ball forward. Deal?

Finally, that leaves left midfield. Bale is also doubtful, whatever it means, but if fit he could fill on the left with BAE behind him. This is what our big squad is for and we should be able to cope, but if Wilson gets booked, the resulting suspension could cost us dear next week. Worry about that after Saturday, because this match demands our full and complete attention. Fulham will be hard to beat but here is a golden chance to progress towards a cup final. We must be positive and take the game to our opponents. Whatever the personnel it’s what we do best. Spurs after a replay.

The Great White Hart Lane Hot Water Scandal – We’re The Posh Side, We’re The Posh Side Tott-en-ham

March 5, 2010March 5, 2010 / Alan / 8 Comments

It all started one fateful evening. Deep in the shadows a man lifted his collar to shield against the biting wind and pulled his hat low over his eyes. Bloodshot red from exhaustion, his steely glint was the tell-tale betrayal of his determination. Soon his long vigil would pay dividends. Suddenly the woman came towards him, a blonde smouldering in the light of the flickering streetlamp…

He Used To Have a Season Ticket, You Know

Actually it was my mate Debs. Forsaking her usual spot in the Park Lane, she joined us on the Shelf for the Fulham game and a pleasant evening was had by all. We are used to her teasing about ‘us posh lot’ in the east stand, although this is frankly hard to imagine on the approach to the venerable old stand, weaving our way through the piles of horse dung and in through the rickety turnstiles. The upper concourse is a decent place to relax pre-match. It used to be carpeted but that is long gone, replaced by regulation Tottenham blue over concrete. It’s clean, tidy and spacious but nothing special. Debs was mesmerised by the exotic delights of a bagel, a culinary delight from the East that has not yet travelled as far south as the Park Lane, but the real revelation came a few minutes later when she returned from the ladies.

‘Hot water. You’ve got hot water. Bloody posh here!’

It’s 2010 and hot water should not be too much of a luxury in this day and age, but there’s none in the South Stand. There’s certainly none in the gents either. In case this was a freak occurrence, last Sunday I forced my daughter into the ladies – us ace reporters always check our sources. She didn’t want to go but I suggested that it’s usually a good idea, just in case. She gave me a withering look: ‘That worked when I was 6, dad, but now I’m 22.’

Being a fan from way back, I was brought up on such rudimentary toilet facilities, I’m grateful for anything where I don’t have to queue for ten minutes or roll my trouser legs up before entering. The old Wembley was the worst. The gents were often an inch deep in urine and the ladies were lucky to have, well, ladies. So Spurs are pretty good, there’s quite a few and the towels don’t run out until 15 minutes before kick off. However, Spurs are a multi-million pound business, the 15th richest in the world according to figures released this week, paying millions to their pampered celebrity staff plus a decent whack to shareholders, and charging us the fans through the nose. Yet they can’t provide hot water.

Another friend of mine has contacted the club about this, or, as he sits in the West Stand, probably got his valet to do so after he tore off the ticket stub for him at the gate, brushed down the seat and delivered a cup of delicious powdered coffee and milk on a silver salver. Sadly I’m not able to quote the inspired rant in full as the correspondence with the club continues. Suffice to say that as a life long fan he is accustomed to the problems of traffic, nowhere to park, changing kick-off times, even the ludicrous salaries to players. He admits that like me, he’s hooked, so he pays one of the highest ticket prices in the country, if not quite willingly. But the straw that broke the camel’s back is: there is no hot running water. Although it is basic hygiene to be able to wash with warm water and soap (Swine flu anyone? Vomiting virus? Come right this way.), the real point is that this is symptomatic of the way the club treats its loyal supporters. It’s fair to assume that the boardroom has hot water, as do the executive boxes. We pay, they know we will pay, so why give us anything back? They can’t be arsed.

One Like This!

To emphasise his point, he received an automated E-mail promising a reply after 5 days but of course heard nothing, so he’s reminded them and to be fair they are corresponding regularly now. The club points to the undoubted improvements at the Lane over the years and will ensure that the problem will be repaired as a matter of urgency. So it has presumably come as a surprise to them to know that in their own stadium, the stadium they run and maintain, actually there are no hot water taps.

The missing hot water is by design, not accident. In the week that Portsmouth fans face the loss of their club and the League rules that Leeds fans must accept that their owners have passed the ‘fit and proper’ test without being able to be told who those owners are, the Great White Hart Lane Hot Water Scandal is small beer. But in its own way, it’s the perfect example of the relationship between the fans and the club. Us and them. Not only do they not provide hot water, they don’t even know that there is no hot water and have designed a stadium that does not provide it. It’s a massive gulf, one that creates increasing bitterness amongst supporters. They take us for granted, and we deserve better. Our loyalty deserves better.