Modric the Sublime Master But In The End, Frustration for Spurs

January 17, 2011January 18, 2011 / Alan / 11 Comments

Spurs versus Manchester United remains one of the classic encounters in any season. Lacking the blood and thunder of London derbies against L’arse or Chelsea, nevertheless the tension is palpable and the air crackles with excitement and energy in the early exchanges.

On such days, matches are won or lost in fleeting moments, where the masters remain calm amidst the bedlam of a baying crowd and flying tackles, where poise becomes a commodity temporarily more valuable than the most precious mineral, where everything that has gone before counts for nought, there is only the moment.

Yesterday, early in the first half, Luka Modric was that master. Surrounded by three players, without ever taking his eye off the ball, that ball so close to his boot as to be somehow magnetised, he shimmied and swayed, hunched low to the turf and rolled away into free air. Over in a second, it was an instant of sublime mesmeric brilliance.

Immediately the ball was on its way, thirty yards curling into Alan Hutton’s stride. He delivered a firm near post cross at ankle height. Then: the moment. At pace Crouch and the defender stretched together, the defender’s hope turned in a heartbeat to anguish as the Spurs man was ahead of him. He got there first, made firm certain contact and… another heartbeat, the ball rammed against the hoarding behind the goal. The moment was gone and so was the game.

It was not easy, hand on heart nothing is in the Prem whatever we may think from the safety of the stands, but it should have been taken or at the very least on target. A shame because it would have been such a glorious goal but the trouble was, rather than being the first of many, it was in fact one of a precious few.

United started well. Early on, they threatened to pull us out of position and eventually out of our misery with their familiar movement, power and running from deep. However, they couldn’t find a spare man in the box and Dawson in particular once again stood strong, tall and proud.

However, we gave as good as we got and gradually pushed United further and further back. We had plenty of possession, kept it too, and maintained that high tempo that suits us for the rest of the half. Rafa was alert and Bale threatening down the left but apart from one Rafa header, he found no one to get on the end of the crosses. Some could have been more accurate but there were enough to make Van der Sar work. Two in particular flew across the edge of the six yard box, where wingers have been placing the ball for the last 150 years but our men were hanging back. Someone should have been there.

Darren - Mate - You're Good But You Won't Get Near Luka Modric

United were not at their best but posed sufficient threat to prevent our midfield from getting into the box enough. Crouch was often isolated and Rafa’s link-up play not at his best. The burden of striking duties fell to Crouch and he disappointed. Never dangerous, Vidic and Ferdinand handled him easily.

I have no desire to be consistently critical of one of ours but honesty will out. Watching him yesterday was like intruding on his personal and private grief. He kept going for the whole game but to little effect, and he knows it. At times he was so uncoordinated, he looked like a puppet where half the strings had been cut. Scant consolation but he appeared to suffering at least as much as we were.

As I’ve said before, however well he performs, his style is wrong for our side. Luka and VDV want some movement up front, someone to pass to, not a stationary item perambulating around the box.

Modric was outstanding. I guess at some point he lost the ball in the tackle but I can’t recall it. Working back and hammering forward, passes long and short, he was the game’s driving force. Surrounded by world class footballers, he was head and shoulders above them all.

Is it so wrong for one man to love another? As giddy and goggled-eyed as a love-struck teenager, I worship Luka’s every movement and each precious gesture, every pass an object of desire to be cherished and immortalised in the memory. After the ball has gone, my gaze lingers for a further furtive fraction, just because I can. Gone are the days when I felt protective toward this frail figure as the premier League midfield behemoths bore down upon him with glinting studs and malice in their hearts. I have long since learned that he is more than capable of looking after himself.

Ironic then that my previous muse was also on the field. Dimi oh Dimi, how could you forsake me so? I wasn’t like the others. I saw through the pouting, the sulks, the lack of effort, even, at the end when the break-up all got a bit nasty, the tantrums and the way you behaved towards us. I prefer to recall the dazzling control and nonchalant brilliance, the effortless ease of a touched first-time pass or a volleyed goal as the ball dropped from the heavens.

Perhaps you’re the type I go for, hard-to-get, act surly and give me the run around. Worth it, worth all the pain and heartache, just for a few precious moments when you’re on fire. If we had stayed together, what could we have become? Truth be told, I’ve never really got over you, and secretly hope you’re happy with your new rich and famous partner. What you would do in this team, it doesn’t bear thinking about…but I do. How I long for your return.

A thrilling first half started to run out of steam by half-time. Far from the break being rejuvenating, the trend continued. After about 70 minutes, we were on top with much of the possession but running out of ideas. After that we rather went through the motions. The tempo dropped and even Rafael’s dismissal couldn’t revive our flagging spirits. Rafa temporarily perked up and ripped a bit deeper as finally Defoe came on but by this time the United central defence were solid and settled. Van der Sar had a relatively straightforward afternoon. VDV put the best chance an agonising fraction over but we never pierced the heart of their defence.

Much has been made in the media of United’s sterling defence but this is our 4^th clean sheet in 5 games. We can be open because of our attacking preferences so it is essential that we win the one to one clashes, or else there is often not much in the way of insurance. Yesterday all four defenders did well in this respect, coming away with the ball on the ground and not allowing United a way to progress.

I was looking in particular for Benny to have a good game in such a high profile encounter, because he’s been on the receiving end of undue and, in my view, unfair criticism. Hansen chose to have a go after the Everton game, when to be fair he did not play well. Now others are jumping on the bandwagon, Perry Groves the latest on 5Live on Friday. It’s classic punditry – largely a mess of received wisdom rather than doing what they are paid to do, watch lots of matches (oh the hardship) and make their own minds up.

Sadly he probably didn’t do enough to redress the balance. Plenty of sharp tackles and good interceptions but also a few moments where he let slip a ball that should have been dealt with, fatally over-playing and presenting United with two excellent opportunities. On the plus side he supported the attack better than in recent games, using the space that Bale creates (because he takes at least two defenders with him wherever he goes) to get wide.

In the second half, United made us play more down the right, that is, to keep the ball away from Bale. Refreshing though it was to see Hutton’s natural game at attacking full-back, the contrast was all too apparent between his hit-and-miss approach to distribution and Corluka’s recent reminder of how well he plays Lennon into the game. For his part, Lennon partly put aside an anonymous first half with some exciting forays down the wing but little came of them. VDV, as if over-compensating for the faults of others, tried too hard and wanted that extra touch or tried a wayward flick in desperation.

Palacios had a reasonable match, diligently sweeping up in the middle. The problem came when he moved forward,. United safely left him as the spare man, their attentions occupied by others, because his distribution and shooting were simply not a danger. At this level, you can’t afford a central midfielder who can’t pass, whatever his redeeming qualities.

It’s a sign of our progress that we are disappointed with only a point against an unbeaten United team but we should have made more of our periods of dominance. It’s also a sign of our stagnation that we do not have a high quality striker. I can’t fathom why Defoe, for all his faults, did not come on sooner but then again I can’t quite see why Crouch was picked to start. Maybe Harry thought that United are vulnerable on the flanks so we needed a big man to turn a plentiful supply of crosses into goals. However, leaving aside the excellence of Vidic and Ferdinand, it’s an overestimation of Crouch’s abilities to believe he was the answer.

Before the game I’d hoped to join in and report back on the ‘We Are N17’ pre-match protests but by the time your intrepid reporter reached the Bell and Hare, only the petition clipboards remained. On twitter I enjoy the morning comments – “play with the kids, breakfast then off to the Lane, few beers, meet friends” etc. For me it was walk the dog, hoover, put the washing on, load the car, down the dump, miss breakfast, tidy the garden then off.

However, I could celebrate the brave young woman who in suffragette tradition, threw herself not in front of a horse but of Andy Gray’s punditry quips. More painful, clearly, than the thundering hooves. The best half-time entertainment since Chirpy and the deckchairs.

She balanced precariously on the gantry for the sake of the N17 campaign. Did it appear on TV? Take a bow. Seen as well as heard. It took gumption to do that, go girl!

Modric Takes Over

January 10, 2011January 10, 2011 / Alan / 3 Comments

You can tell the true value of a player by their absence. On Sunday, Luka Modric jogged purposefully on to the pitch at half time and proceed to transform a lacklustre Tottenham team.

Before and after – the footballing equivalent of a Head and Shoulders advert. Before – dry and dull, all the shine has gone, flecks of ugly debris all around. After – why, bright and shiny, I feel like a new person and the boys love it! Cue swishing of improbably thick and glossy mane, a suggestive look over fluttering eyelashes.

Troubled and toiling as the first period ended, unable to find a way through Charlton’s massed ranks, Luka took over. No fuss or flamboyance. Head down, into midfield, straight into the groove. He came deep to pick the ball up, moved it, then advanced 15 yards, more space, me again, come on, a touch, run again. Suddenly everyone is moving easily, freely, with purpose and energy.

This is what he does. Many players have fantastic skills, precious few have the ability to change totally the way 10 other players behave. And here’s the thing – he just gets on with it. Job to do, no time to pick up the pace of the game, I’ll alter the pace to suit me.

Before Modric...then Apply Well and Instantly...

It was no less remarkable for being against a League One team (is that what the Third Division is called? I still have to think about it). Charlton, buoyed by excellent support from the stands, closed us down remarkably well. Any pretentions to push us back gradually faded as the half went on, although they came close to scoring early on with a couple of balls across the box that stretched us unnecessarily. Nonetheless they erected a solid barrier in front of their back four and we seldom looked like scoring.

Credit to our opponents for an organised response but we also played into their hands. We have a fine squad but the absence of key men always shows. Harry’s team selection of a strong back four rightly gave few concessions to our lower league opponents and Defoe could provide some sparks up front. However, the midfield came unstuck, or at the least the two most experienced members, the ones we were supposed to rely on, did.

Palacios and Sandro, two defensive midfielders side by side, offered no creativity or inventiveness. An odd selection. Both seemed uncertain about where they were supposed to be. To his credit, Wilson looked for the ball and took up advance positions that didn’t suit him but once more he gave the ball away too often and when under little pressure.

I’ve always appreciated what he does and will be forever grateful for his work when we were at the bottom of the league. His was the single most valuable contribution to our rise up the table. However, he looks to have fallen behind our current levels. Simply put, it’s pointless winning the ball if you give it away again. Also, I still think he drifts around at the edge of the box when we don’t have the ball rather than tucking in closer to the back four. I counted at least three Charlton raids out wide when he was loitering at the edge of the box covering a run that no one was making.

..Modric Works Wonders! And It Shows...

Sandro looks a good prospect to me. Raw around the edges and too reckless with his tackling, nevertheless he’s mobile, hard to shift and confident in possession. He takes up defensive positions naturally and when we get it back can drive forward into space to turn defence into attack. He had a decent second half, sure of his place alongside Modric. I don’t want to either write off Wilson or make extravagant claims for the Brazilian, but with Palacios the man taken off at half-time, without being premature it was hard to escape the feeling that one was on the way up as another was falling in the opposite direction.

The rumours that Krancjar is on the move may be true after another poor performance. It’s hard to see why he’s wasting his considerable talents. He seems bulky and below peak fitness, and not that interested in doing something about it. He wasted this chance either to force himself back into the team or at last put himself in the proverbial shop window. His limited defensive abilities and lack of pace make it hard to see where he will fit into the present team. A real pity, he’s so talented.

As it was, he was asked to drift inside but we are used to having width these days and Benny didn’t overlap into the space he vacated. Then, Niko was gobbled up by the waiting Charlton defenders, shooting increasingly forlornly from further and further out, apparently oblivious to the presence of defenders between him and the goal.

Pav was in the middle of another of his ineffectual days. He dropped deeper to look for the ball and hopefully to shift Doherty and Dailly out of the back four but he lost control so often that they were largely untroubled. The ginger Pele therefore stood resolute and, well, not so much tall as slightly stooped. According to Wikipedia he’s not 30 til the end of the month…. Never the most agile of footballers, the Doc finally got it together at the start of one season, rather like Dawson started to blossom. Then he broke his leg in a televised match at Everton and was never the same again. He would have moved on anyway, he’s a lower league natural, but that leg break did him much harm. He’s not changed in the interim – first touch the ball slid two metres from his foot, but in the first half we kindly played to his strengths. We crossed it and he and Dailly headed most of them away. I liked the way he looked to the Park Lane at the end of the game and we gave a round of applause. He still feels it, being a Spur.

Enter Luka and we took them apart. For 15 minutes he was faultless. Just as I was about to moan about another aimless long shot, Townsend scored a debut goal, not the hardest shot but perfectly placed inside the post from 20 yards. Defoe was rampant, taking the ball right across the box before slotting home for the second, then the third from a rebound. We missed a few more and Cudicini made three decent saves but we were never in much danger. Like many sides, Charlton had the organisation but fell apart once they had to move forward. They have nothing up front.

It will be fascinating when Huddlestone returns, because earlier in the season this very different style of player made the team feel most comfortable. He and Luka could become a combination that dreams are made of, if Big Tom does more defensively. This could really be something big. And I don’t mean Tom’s tuchas.

Before the game the Charlton left back must have been delighted that Lennon was absent. Little did he know. Azza at his trickiest could not have given him a harder time. Repeatedly Andros Townsend took him on and took him apart. Twisting this way and that, right foot on the outside, left foot coming in, Townsend on this display had it all, including a couple of posey tricks and flicks to rub it in. A fine debut full of promise. He had good control, keeping the ball close while he ran at full tilt and as I said could come off both feet.

In other news, David Beckham is training not playing now, but by the time I finish typing this sentence it may all have changed, or he may be having twins. I don’t know. I’m less bothered by this than I am by Harry’s clear irritation on 5Live. When asked about it, he snapped at the interviewer.

“I don’t know what the issues are… and I don’t know the answer. I wish I knew…it’s sorted about above my head. I don’t think there’s a problem with the insurance, I had that wrong.”

Sounds like he’s in the dark and that Levy is pulling the strings. In playing matters the manager must have overall control, although Harry added that he said he would like Beckham at the club.

One reason for Beckham’s arrival is in this column by financial journo and Spurs author Martin Cloake:

“The news sent shares in the North London club shooting up on Friday. This morning, they are back down. Between the hot rumour and the cooling down, the team comprehensively beat Charlton to qualify for the fourth round of the FA Cup. This fact did not have the same affect on the share price as the rumour.”

http://www.dailyfinance.co.uk/2011/01/10/fa-gets-new-sponsor-beckham-update/

Does Moyes Read Tottenham On My Mind?

January 6, 2011January 7, 2011 / Alan / 30 Comments

David Moyes reads Tottenham On My Mind. Obvious. How else would he know that the best way to counter our attacking tactics is to give us a taste of our own medicine. I’ve been saying so for ages, and more fool the rest of the Premier League for not paying attention. Big Sam for one. Comes to the Lane with a revolutionary 5-5-0 formation, four down in a trice, sacked a few weeks later. Sam Allardyce – My Part In His Downfall. At least Tottenham On My Mind can take some crumbs of comfort from last night’s emphatic defeat by Everton.

From first whistle to last, we were never comfortable. Saha and Beckford’s movement, coupled with Coleman’s right side raiding pulled the back four all over the place and occupied the midfield to snuff out our attacking intentions at source. Said midfield were also strung wide apart to the point where Bale and Lennon were as far apart as Peter Andre and Katie Price. Later, as the match wore on, Lennon, Kranjcar and then Keane gradually faded from view like ghosts disappearing into the mists on the moor. Did they ever really exist? The apparitions on Most Haunted have a greater presence.

We witnessed a series of poor individual performances but this is one for collective responsibility. The midfield provided the back four with absolutely no protection, bar a few blocks and tackles from Jenas. Bale and Lennon should have tucked in more during the extended periods when we did not have possession, a fault that we’ve seen before this season, especially in Europe. If they don’t work back, the full-backs are unprotected and vulnerable. Hutton and BAE both had torrid times, Benny in particular as Everton repeatedly pushed down our right, and Hutton’s distribution was rotten, but defending is primarily a team affair. They should not have been left one on one with their opposite number. As a result we were treated to the slightly bizarre sight of Phil Neville as the flying full back, cutting the ball back from the byline. He and Coleman combined well, creating several two v one situations.

A Pictorial Representation of the Gap Between Our Defenders

In short, we were a mess. Saha had so much time and space to shoot, although his was a well-struck shot. With nothing in front of him, Gallas had to come way out of his comfort zone and Saha found the room behind him. This pattern continued throughout the game and great credit to an Everton side whose passing and movement made us struggle in the first half, then in the second we went under, never to bubble back to the surface. Overwhelmed, we held out only because in front of goal, Beckford is rubbish and Saha and others little better.

It’s a while since we’ve been as badly mauled. Saying that it had to happen sometime is in this case a little more than mere philosophising to excuse a defeat. We have been stretched badly on other occasions but managed to get away with it. However, this Everton performance was the best I’ve seen against us for a while now. They were superior in every department. They applied themselves much better whereas we looked jaded, and passed the ball extremely well. In contrast, in the second half we reverted to the bad old habits of conceding possession.

Yet if we had taken the chances that came our way the outcome could have been different. Equalising was straightforward enough, and without playing well we made other chances in a first half that ebbed and flowed, with first Everton then ourselves getting on top before Everton finished the half the stronger.

VDV was running wild and free, largely unfettered by the opponents’ defence. Modric also did some good work before fading. He was pressured hard in the second half by his opposite number. We made passes and half-breaks into the channels but missed or the ball was just cut out. Crouch once again delighted in the way he set up Rafa’s goal (he’s assisted 6 out of Rafa’s 11 goals) then infuriated by missing decent chances in the air and on the ground. That header in the first half – for goodness sake. The offside goal – what a waste. In the home game, Baines did the best marking job on him this season by tucking himself into Crouchie’s armpit and easing him off-balance. Did him every time. Neville sussed this by the end of the first half and the big man couldn’t handle it. If only he didn’t do things like that brilliant run near the end, we could consign him to the bin, but that’s what makes him so exasperating, the ability is there, it’s just that he fails to make use of it so often. Too often.

Half time provided some respite and a chance for Harry to regroup. Before the break, JJ was being bellowed at by Jordan and Bond. That may not be unusual – one imagines Jordan’s normal conversation as starting with the bellow and building from there. Also, Harry was taking notes – never seen that before, although he was using the same type of biro that I have in front of me. Me and ‘arry – two sprigs from the same bush, us.

Didn’t do any good. By the middle of the second half I lost count of the number of times that we gave the ball away. Luckily it was almost matched by the number of Everton missed chances, but in the end the goal was both inevitable and deserved. By this time, Everton were swinging it around like champions, we were bewildered. Bale was off injured. Neville gave him the treatment but no worse than the tackling he’s received earlier this season. Niko came on and was pathetic. An inexcusably feeble effort. If you can’t be bothered, just leave.

Gomes did well. He might have parried the second out wide but it was a fizzing shot. No chance with the first – credit to Saha for a firm, well-placed effort. Otherwise he had plenty to do, being unprotected and all, and he handled it all. In particular, he stood tall when Coleman was given the freedom of Merseyside, rather than committing himself early as he has done in similar situations lately, and this was a factor in Coleman’s miss. Hopefully with Tony Parks he’s working on righting that fault.

A forgettable night. Let’s console ourselves with the fact that Everton played really well, that we remain 4th and we took 9 out 12 points in 4 knackering games in 10 days.

A final more sobering thought. Perhaps our open style caught up with us last night. The idea lingers, that Everton were the first team to exploit fully a weakness in our play. The midfield have to be 100% to make it work, in terms both of going forward and when we don’t have the ball. I didn’t see the game but I strongly suspect the two teams at the Emirates didn’t approach the battle for the CL spots in quite the same way. Maybe we have to moderate our natural instincts for the long term good. One thing’s for sure – we can’t play like that again in the future.

Luka Modric – Virtuoso of the Spurs Midfield

December 29, 2010December 31, 2010 / Alan / 11 Comments

In the coffee bar of St Paul’s Church in the Park Lane, the benign Martin Luther King gazes down at the queue for tea and bacon rolls. The children have been remarkably inventive with their colouring project, considering that all they had to work with is the outline of a black man in a suit.

The ladies in the kitchen bustle at their task. Each treats the cramped servery as their own. At home the kitchen is their domain yet here they must share, so the fussing and unwanted advice means the service is slow. Even the vicar tuts with impatience as he takes the money. It’s value at £1.50.

Vaguely Gratuitous Use of A Great Man in Spurs Blog.

Looking around, there’s spiritual inspiration to be had from a few religious images, or perhaps the giant stuffed Speedy Gonzales, lying in the corner with a fixed grin.

This peaceful setting, with its attentive service (‘how would you like your egg cooked?’), youth club chairs and shiny toilets is tranquil yet vaguely unsettling. Football’s not about this. It’s about the grease of burgers, watered down sauce trickling down the wrist and hurried gulps of indigestion before the expectant rush to get into the ground. Too nice, it’s just not right.

The contrast with what was to follow could not have been more marked. Twenty minutes later, we were plunged into the midst of a physical battle that became increasingly intense as the match wore on, a seething froth of steaming tackles, gross duplicity and red cards. Newcastle’s defensive tactics gradually descended into systematic intimidation, encouraged by lenient refereeing.

That Spurs did not buckle under such pressure is a measure of our resilience, both mental to overcome the threats and our ingenuity in playing our way out of trouble. Yesterday, Bale and Lennon made and took two superb goals with a precious combination of breathtaking pace and slide rule finishing, but we were led all the way by a virtuoso performance from Luka Modric.

From first whistle to last, he scurried and scampered through the markers and tackles, untouched by the mayhem all around. When we had the ball he dictated the pace of the entire game, pass and move, a touch on or 50 yards cross field all the same to a player at the peak of his powers. He ran and ran and ran, constantly available to ease the pain of teammates under pressure. As the infidels thundered down upon him, he swayed and swivelled, a drop of the shoulder and he’s gone, no discernable change of pace but look, there he is, he’s away. No space in the crowded midfield throbbing with opponents intent on destruction, but there, look, in daylight, crouched over the ball then head up, a seemingly idle flick of the outside of the boot or a firm instep. Frail legs hide a frame of tensile steel, clip his ankles but he’s still upright, protecting the ball as if it were precious treasure, shielding and caressing it to safety. One moment, under pressure in our left full back position, the pass down the line to Rafa defied the laws of geometry and physics. A masterpiece from a truly wonderful footballer: one of the most complete individual performances I’ve seen for years.

From such rarefied heights, back to the blood and thunder. Early on, the air of expectation was palpable as Carroll took on our centre halves, for the game would surely turn on how we coped with their dangerman. Very well as it turned out. Daws was not prepared to give an inch. He’d spent days focussed solely on winning that first high ball and he was on top from the start. Such is our confidence that we let Kaboul take him on when the ball was on the left – whoever was closest. The Frenchman bolstered his growing reputation by not flinching either.

Defensively our task was made easier by Newcastle’s reluctance to support their centre forward. Later in the half Carroll won a few balls, headed perfectly into space but the nearest teammate. Barton usually, was 15 yards away. A total waste of their greatest asset.

However, the Geordies’ defensive outlook stifled our attacking efforts. Rafa struggled to find room, Pav’s control let him down at crucial moments and the wide outlets were blocked. Newcastle’s high line begged for a ball to be slipped in behind them but we didn’t make those runs, then they dropped back behind the midfield shield and that route to goal was blocked.

We found it hard to make any chances but could have scored just before half time when first Rafa missed a good headed chance then Pav’s downward header tantalisingly hit both posts before rolling clear. A fine save from Krul. We needed to up the tempo in the second half, We play better at the level of quick bordering on frantic.

Alongside Luka, Palacios was back to his bouncy best, covering diligently and snapping in with the tackles. He was a yard faster around the pitch, add something for his sharpened sense of anticipation and for 45 minutes it was as effective a piece of defensive midfield play as you could wish to see. Well, for almost 45 minutes. Twice he gave the ball away, leading to chances that Newcastle would not have otherwise made. The second time, the lunge and booking on Carroll was as predictable as England’s Ashes win.

The guy in the Newcastle midfield looked vaguely familiar. It took me a moment to realise this was Alan Smith. Once a highly gifted and mobile young striker at Leeds, Fergie paid a fortune to convert him into a decidedly average, albeit committed, midfielder. Injuries haven’t helped. I know he’s been away a long time because of injury but someone should have let him know that in the meantime they’ve changed the way you can tackle from behind these days. Trouble is, the ref seemed to be back in the nineties too.

Now I have some sympathy for refs these days. No really – the game is so fast in reality and so damn easy with the benefit of 37 slow motion replays that they have a nigh on impossible task. However, here was an instance where by not setting the standard early on, the referee allowed players to take too much freedom. Time and again Smith, Barton and Tiote chomped in. They should have been punished more severely, if not for individual fouls then for repetition.

Newcastle's View of the Build Up to the First Spurs Goal

If the eye was drawn throughout the game to Carroll, it was also impossible to avoid paying attention to Joey Barton, however hard I tried, and believe me I did try, so hard. I admit prejudice: surely no professional deserves the 50k a week less, given his history. But I am a warm and generous man, willing to embrace efforts at rehabilitation. Newcastle fans have been saying it’s ‘Joey for England, and certainly his effort can’t be faulted, trying to hold down a midfield berth whilst pushing forward to support Carroll and, later, dropping deep to try and start something, in the face of utter indifference from the anonymous Routledge and Gutierrez

But of course he started. On Rafa first, who is becoming a target now that the league has spotted his short fuse. Leaving his foot in on Kaboul, then twice digging Modric in the ribs as the ball was dead, actively looking for trouble. Luka just looked at him. Barton sees a frail victim, we see a battle hardened child of a war zone.

Then the free kick. We have the ball, about to launch from deep. Carroll goes down holding his head, ref stops the game. Carroll gets up, he’s hurt his leg. Barton takes the free drop, looks at Gutierrez, they point, Barton drops it the corner as Gutierrez follows up. If they had scored from that free kick… Naked opportunism, carefully thought through, that no one else would do. This loathsome objectionable individual is the Newcastle captain.

Still it got the game going. The atmosphere was boiling over once Kaboul stupidly fell for the provocation and saw red. This foolishness could have lost us the game – as it is, he’s out for three games just when we need him. Need him because this adolescent indiscretion aside he’s fast maturing into a high quality centre half. I believe he’ll become a top class player.

By this time, we were a goal up. Speedy Gonzales came to life with a lightening dash and rifled finish. Earlier we had struggled to raise our game and raise the tempo – we did everything too slowly but gradually cranked it up, inspiring this terrific little goal from an impossibly wide angle. Anderle anderle indeed.

A man down and we took over until the final whistle. Quality shone through the whole team. Luka shrugged, picked up the pace and the ball, dominated. Jenas had another good match, excepting his loss of the ball in front of goal. Harry could have withdrawn Wilson because the booking rendered him impotent but it was perhaps more positive than that. JJ can take the game to opponents who are retreating and he did so effectively, but perhaps his best moment was the great last man tackle at the edge of the box. Too many false dawns in the past to signal a JJ comeback but in this form he’s a cracking player.

Lennon and Bale pinned back the defenders, while Bassong showed the same fearless attitude towards Carroll as he did to Drogba recently. Against a bigger man he refused to give ground. Daws was there to sort him out too.

Another day, another ten men, another 80 yard move. Bale was off before you realise how much room he has, then it’s the familiar hold your breath surely he can’t get through no shooting from there never, it’s in, it’s in in, it’s in… you beauty.

A moment of breathtaking skill that was as incongruous in this match as the pre-match tranquillity of St Pauls Church. There’s a lesson there somewhere, that stick to your principles, play it right and you shall be rewarded. Vicar, there’s your sermon for next Sunday, Harry and the Parable of the Two Wingers. And if you could get some mustard in next time, that will be perfect.