We’ve Got Sandro At The Back (And Harry On The Bench)

December 19, 2011December 29, 2011 / Alan / 19 Comments

The Sunderland fan on the train has low expectations but he’s loyal and a long way from home on a cold Sunday afternoon. Spurs have more points, better players and better prospects but he has his devotion to his club, a precious commodity these days for any fan as far as I’m concerned, so he expresses this in the time-honoured fashion: ‘Where were you when you were s**t?’

I guess this is what success means. Regular readers will know that whilst I’m unreservedly extracting every last Higgs boson of pleasure from the current run and this terrific team, I’m still pondering on what being successful feels like. It’s just that it’s been so long. 44 years on from my first match, I’m being accused of being a gloryhunter. The price of fame.

It’s odd. Spurs fans are often told they are fickle. We’ve had a reputation in the past of getting on the team’s back very early if things are not going well. This goes back to when I was a teenager. I don’t think we are any worse than the other Premier league teams who have been in the top division for a while and we’re a lot better than many, but even our detractors would have to acknowledge that we have stuck around. My kids are in their mid twenties now. They’ve been coming since they were little and they’ve not been there for the glory.

A ‘before and after’ victory. The ‘before’ was a first half reminiscent of so many sticky and listless afternoons during the dark days of old. Struggling to get going, no tempo, an absence of pace or inventiveness. Good players passing to shadows.And the surest sign of the old days – dull. Spurs and dull. These days it goes together like Ant and Ball or Cannon and Dec. How far have we come when we’re concerned about 45 minutes where we are superior and make a few chances, yet we know it’s not us because it’s not flowing?

Then ‘after’. A change of emphasis in the formation, add the commitment and determination of every last one of them, the talent’s already there and we are transformed. A shame there was only a single goal to show for our dominance but don’t let those late wobbles fool you: this was a decent victory and there were real and lasting positives in the manner in which we overcame adversity.

In these pages I’ve debated the pros and cons of our midfield set-up ever since TOMM began. Whatever the merits of playing two wide men, that’s what the whole team are used to. In the first half, it took us a while to escape the clutches of Sunderland’s packed and hardworking midfield but when we did knock a few short balls, they looked up to stretch the play and saw only empty grass. When we tried something, the ball was overhit – Modric to Lennon, Lennon to Walker, it looked the same but it wasn’t quite working.

When Lennon departed, we looked forlorn and bedraggled. Luka wasted on the left, Rafa couldn’t get on the ball, Parker deep. Pav on and had a good chance that he didn’t commit to, Manu good touches but nothing in the box. Crosses sailing over the far post. Sunderland had the best chance, a low cross that flashed across the box, but they had no ambition and Gallas had young Wickham in his pocket. Following the evidence from the Stoke match last week I predicted that the high balls would rain down. Gallas gave away a stone and 4 or 5 inches but showed that a clever old ‘un has the drop on a good young ‘un. Apart from one free-kick conceded, he was the master. This season as last, it takes Gallas five or six matches to become match fit. He’s ready – a fine game.

The 4-4-1-1 with Bale and Lennon as attacking wide men has worked well. In the long run, I’ve discussed and advocated the merits of trying Parker and Sandro as two defensive midfielders with Modric central in front of them, Bale and Rafa and leaving out Lennon, despite his strong performances this year. Harry demonstrated the value of this set-up, at least as an alternative, in the second, tactical changes that brought us the three points and he deserves the credit. Although Parker did plenty of the fetching and carrying from deep, Sandro stayed back, Rafa and Luka could play in a more central position, leaving space out wide for Walker and BAE to provide width. Parker went further forward predominantly while Manu had a more roving commission up front. I understand why Pav came on, 2 up front because Sunderland were so cautious, but paradoxically it made us less incisive because we’re not used to playing that way.

Sandro had a good first half an hour – he saw this as an opportunity and was determined to make the most of it. Like the others, he tailed away as the half concluded. He then produced a storming second half until he went off near the end, exhausted after several lung-busting runs and feeling the effects of Thursday. This rock allowed the others freedom to get forward. When he lost the ball, he had but one thing on his mind, to get it back. He’s top class, born to that position.

Now we were cooking. These changes ignited the tempo. Rafa hit left foot pingers all over the place, Luka and Parker kept the ball moving and the full-backs were more than willing to help. We would have had more if Benny had been a fraction more accurate but Sunderland made it hard to penetrate their massed ranks.

The goal when it came was a sweet effort from Pav. I was in line, such a lovely feeling to turn away in celebration before it hit the net, knowing it was in. Otherwise, he didn’t do a lot, one decent shot. We should have had more – on twitter the match announcer Paul Coyte said Luka was kicking himself for the miss long after the final whistle. Rafa was well set at the edge of the box for a couple of his specials but he didn’t connect cleanly, and Manu was close twice. I’ve not checked the stats but we didn’t really make the keeper work too hard. That said, there was only one team in it.

Sitting on the Shelf means I’m close to our full-backs and wingers. We know how good Walker is but I want to tell you how focussed he is. There’s a look in eyes that would scare me if I played opposite him because of its intensity. Like Sandro, losing it means an opportunity to get stuck in. Nothing but getting it back. Brilliant.

Finally, a word of praise for Friedel. His calm understated excellence spreads to the rest of the team. A couple of good saves but his true value is in his safety. He catches where possible and when it is his, he makes it. His low save from a shot come cross late on was competent and expected but it meant so much, and if we do well this year we owe him a vast debt of gratitude.

So we’ve learned to overcome setbacks and we have a plan B. No wingers but we won, and won well. 606 on the way home, an Ar****l fan bristles at an earlier call from a triumphant Spur. He was wrong to write them off but she really got the hump. Showing that they don’t know the game, she wrongly said we haven’t won anything since their last trophy. She sounded as though she was a lot younger than me so she knows nothing but success. She needs some perspective. She was really edgy – I reckon that’s a sure sign of what success feels like.

One Touch Too Many

December 1, 2011December 1, 2011 / Alan / 14 Comments

One touch too many, a phrase that sums up Spurs’ performance last night. A radically altered team seldom captured the flowing passing style that’s been a feature of our season and we couldn’t score against 10 men despite having all the possession and territory in the second half.

This was like a trip back in time, all the way back to, oh, last spring at least. Players wanting three or four touches on the ball when one or two would do. Turning back into their man when a simple lay-off would keep the ball moving and stretch our already beleaguered opponents. Haven’t they learned anything from playing alongside Parker the master?

As a result we were continually caught in possession and allowed PAOK time to regroup after half a break had been made. Their massed ranks meant our one-twos in and around the box bounced off knees and ankles as well as feet but they didn’t mind as long as it stayed far from their goal. Many like Defoe and Pienaar tried too hard, setting the ball up for the perfect effort rather than catching them unawares with the early shot. Pienaar in particular failed to exert any authority – let’s be kind, he was finding his way back to match fitness and leave it at that.

The fact that it looked so dire is a tribute to how far we have come since last season. We play at pace, in set patterns that rely on Walker and Bale as well as Lennon to be quick and direct out wide and for Modric and Parker to shift it swiftly and accurately in the middle. On three occasions in the second half, we played a ball wide right from about 30 yards out and there was no one running on to it. Not making excuses for shoddy passing (there was plenty of that), but this sort of move is rehearsed in training and encouraged on the night, barely look up because that’s what has been coached. Yet Walker wasn’t there, not until later. We’ve grown into comfortable patterns and couldn’t readjust in time.

It’s not so much the individual, it’s the blend. Quality players in an unfamiliar line-up are just that, individuals and by the time the worst of the shambles was over, we were two down and beaten, despite the penalty and sending off that brought us unexpectedly back into things. We couldn’t finish them off, that old familiar Tottenham. Balls into the box, no one to finish it off. Their keeper was excellent but seldom tested. Ah, the good old days.

I say it’s not so much the individual, that doesn’t excuse some of the desultory efforts on show. Rose showed why he has so much to learn about the art of the full-back, especially positional play. Corluka, a defender I have a lot of time for, was appalling. Looking to him for basics of good positioning and solidity, he failed with the basics of passing and covering all night. I realise he wants out but we looked to him for leadership by example and there was none. However, twice it was the defensive line up that left acres of space between the four of them, twice the Greeks scored. The guy with the first goal seemed almost apologetic that such a gentle header should count. Where was Livermore and the midfield cover? Where was the tracking back?

Sadly I wasn’t at the Lane last night. I say sadly – this is my foolishness, I would rather have been there to witness a defeat than stuck on my sofa. Anyway, Graham Taylor rightly picked out the ‘one touch too many’ refrain several times. He wasn’t so sure about what to do about it. When asked he chortled, ‘That’s up to Harry!” It’s a cracking gig, being a pundit. They get £2 or £3k a match, I think. I’m available. It’s true that I haven’t actually been England manager or played football at a level higher than the Oaklands Road Primary 1st XI but at least I have an opinion.

I would have played an almost full-strength team from the start. I’m old-fashioned enough to think that a European competition is worth winning and that winning something is better than coming 4th in something else. I’m also calculating enough to say that on the balance of probability, it was worth the risk, despite Liverpool’s example from earlier this week where Lucus was crocked for 6 months. I’ve praised Harry for easing us on to the outside with the minimum of effort, two furlongs to go and a clear run ahead without breaking sweat. Win this one, effectively play one match at anywhere near full tilt, and we were through to the stage where over 2 legs we could beat anyone. Get there, then take a view depending on how we doing in the league and the FA Cup. Stamina is not a problem for this team and we could have coped with this game.

Credit to PAOK. Unlike the away match, they were organised and determined, refusing to be shifted from their Alamo positions behind the barricades.

So I’m disappointed today, but onwards and upwards. Harry’s heart was never in it and in the end that was the attitude of several players. If we had been 5th or 6th in the league, maybe he would have taken a different view, but we’re third and deserve to be so Bolton it is and three points.

Finally, I’m also disappointed with how many people on the boards and on twitter have written off a few of our young players. I know we all get grumpy after a result like this but to dismiss Harry Kane’s chances totally as many have done, or Livermore’s for that matter, is ridiculous. Kane is just 18 years old, our central striker in a key European game, he worked hard and could have scored on two occasions, would have if it were not for a handball on the line. It’s hard enough as it is for young players to make it, never mind a reaction like this.

The Real Deal

November 27, 2011November 27, 2011 / Alan / 15 Comments

i suppose this is what it feels like. Supporting a top team. I mean Spurs, always a top team to me, right up there, don’t anyone try to tell me different or I must ask you kindly to step outside. But this real. Third place, two points behind Manchester United with a home game in hand. Playing the best football I’ve seen for thirty or so years. Lauded by other fans and the media because we have goals, victories, and above all, style. People want to watch us play.

We’ve done top four in the recent past, of course. We were fourth because we deserved it over the season before last, but be honest – there was a big gap between us and them, the top three. They played classier football, the way it should be played. Now there’s no us and them. We are them.

It’s taken me a while to get used to it but I’m fine with it now. A little stunned at first, waiting for the wheels to fall off, just like they always do. 40 plus years of support, it will surely go wrong soon enough, just when that sense of false security creeps up on you. Even on this run, we had a bit of luck at Blackburn and Fulham. Yeah yeah, winning ugly, I know, but come on, between you and me, luck, huh? But this week we slaughtered a decent mid-table side and overcame West Brom yesterday. Hey, what the hell. We’re brilliant, exciting, fluent, beautiful, did I say brilliant already? Top three, doing things in style. I can handle that.

I watched the Villa game with someone who likes football but has never been to a Spurs match before. She said she was ‘dazzled’ with the live experience, being close to the players, the crowd, the ebb and flow of the play with the fans being part of it. I replied that I’m on my way to half a century and I was dazzled too. Yesterday we showed some of those breath-taking moves, movement of players into space faster than we spectators can keep up with, the ball shifted from one end of the pitch to the other in the blink of an eye, we saw these on a few occasions, especially towards the end when our redoubtable opponents were pushing on and left gaps. The example was Defoe’s goal, a memorable and stunning moment, one pass from Benny, a deft flick that opened up acres, then a thirty yard run before a bludgeoning finish. Pace and delicacy capped by a sudden eruption of power.

But the real deal manifests itself in other ways too, and that’s what has really hit me. The ball’s played upfield, no worries, we’ll get it back soon enough. Stretching for it, it’s OK, kept it. Always someone available to touch it on to. Long ball down the middle of our defence, meh, Kaboul’s sorted it. Or Brad’s swept it up. Sweet. Any Spurs fan will tell you, we are not used to that feeling. Uncharted territory. I’m still exploring but I kind of like it.

This week we faced two new challenges. On Monday we resumed after a long break against a decent side. How many times have these matches been our downfall? The ones we are supposed to win. Our opponents keep it tight, we go down to a late winner. Not so long ago this was Spurs. Stoke, Wolves, Blackpool. Yet we destroyed Villa. Moreover, they came to the Lane and they were scared. They didn’t see Spurs as beatable if you put in a shift and get stuck in, but intimidated.

Yesterday we faced and overcame a new and different challenge. For the first time this season we were confronted by a well-organised team who pressed us mercilessly, leaving us no time to settle and play our football. Time and again we were pushed back, back passes when we are used to sweeping onwards. No time to set any rhythm or tempo. Modric’s true influence apparent in his absence. Then a goal down, Bale’s ineffectual defending gave Reid too much space, then we failed once again to deal with a cross, albeit a fine one, placed between our centre halves. Not for the first time – it’s a weakness that was nearly exploited by Odemwingie near the end. I’d be interested to hear if anyone reading this is a coach. It’s a tricky decision for defenders – centre forwards have been trying to set themselves up in the gap since football was first played – but I assume Kaboul as the man who can see the forward should leave his station and come to him.

We’ve faced such challenges before and folded. Not now. We have the ability to change and a manager able to get the message through. Under pressure, we shifted slightly, same shape but more attacking. Defoe pushed up to get closer to Manu, who worked magnificently, his movement opening up the defence throughout but he was isolated in the first half. Parker moved up, just a bit but he lead us whereas earlier the match largely passed him by. Full-backs pushing on – Benny superb today, dominating that flank, more passes than anyone else. Bale on the right stopped Thomas’s advances and shut down that attacking option for the Baggies. Sandro, booked and surely one foul away from red, remained diligent and composed. Fearless, he did not shirk a tackle or physical challenge. Such poise and bravery is top class.

We introduced width and upped the tempo. The second half was ours despite West Brom’s continuing efforts. The players responded with relish but Redknapp deserves full credit. Manu got a late third after missing other chances, including a penalty but we make so many chances these days.

So a fine win and a glorious week. Fabulous football, enjoy it with me. I can’t recall a spell quite like this one. Quality yes, plenty of that over the years despite what we Spurs fans might say, but never the consistency. In 82 we might have cracked the league but for a crazy fixture pile-up that left us worn out and with only a dull cup win to show for it. That came close but this is right up there. And the best thing is, there’s more to come.

End Of An Era

November 25, 2011November 25, 2011 / Alan / 10 Comments

Earlier this week I received formal notification that Tottenham Hotspur PLC is proposing to de-list its shares and become a private company again. As a shareholder, I’ve been kept fully informed even though the postage on the thick wad of legalese cost twice as much as the value of my holding. I have one share, literally a share holder, so that’s very sweet of them, although as a responsible shareholder I feel disappointed and concerned that the board have wasted this expense on schmucks like me for whom it makes no difference. Add up the postage, labour and paper, it’s enough to pay Manu’s wages for at least 12 hours.

Frankly I have no idea what it means for the club’s finances. Daniel Levy says the listing “restricts our ability to secure funding for its future development.” That is, the new ground is easier to fund this way and if that means we are a step closer to the NDP, I’m delighted. Levy is a master of his world, finance, and has always looked after the club in this respect. Even with our low capacity we made an operating profit of £32m, a rise of 42%, boosted by the Champions League pot of gold.

Management Today(what do you mean, you don’t read it daily?) takes a more cynical view, wondering

Buy Al's Share, Buy! Buy!

if the furore over the Olympic Stadium has lead Spurs to prefer life without the added scrutiny of external shareholders. Then there’s Redknapp’s forthcoming court case which is scheduled for January, the same time as the de-listing. Pure coincidence, but the assuredly bad publicity can now have no affect on the share price. It doesn’t mention suspicions that the ‘I’ in ENIC means they have half an eye on a future sale.

What I do know is that this is the end of an era. Nowadays it’s commonplace for football clubs to be listed companies but Spurs were the first and it wasn’t that long ago. In 1983 an ambitious businessman called Irving Scholar was determined to make his mark as our new chairman. Before then, the club had for many years been run as a private company by the Wale family but by applying the same business principles that had made him a wealthy man, Scholar aimed to drag football finances into the twentieth century even though it was almost over. In the process, Spurs would become the richest team in the land.

As well as going public and raising money on the Stock Exchange, Scholar took over two clothing and sportswear companies, including Hummel, fondly remembered for providing Alan Ball’s revolutionary white boots. The ground was empty save for one or two days a month, so use it for alternatives at no extra fixed cost. The space under the Park Lane became a factory. The income was to be ploughed back into the club, a secure stream unaffected by the uncertainties of league position.

Scholar shrewdly assessed the zeitgeist. Leaving aside the rights and wrongs (not easy for me to do but anyway..), we were in the midst of Thatcher’s property-owning democracy where the public could buy pieces of the de-nationalised industries, make some easy money and feel part of things. To borrow from contemporary politics, we were all in this together, except that times were good.

On top of that, Spurs fans were offered the unique chance to be a part of the club. Long excluded, unlike like any other fans we could now have our say and influence the future. It proved popular. I don’t have any statistics to back this up but I reckon the number one Christmas present for Spurs fans that year was a share certificate. There’s no doubt that the share offer caught the prevailing mood.

I've helped buy that

I was given a hundred shares by my then girlfriend. It was worth about £160 but to me it was a priceless token, sealing my attachment to her and to the club. These were the only shares I have ever owned and I kept an eye on their progress, all the while thinking that like the family heirloom on the Antiques Roadshow, I will be delighted to be told it’s worth a fortune but I would never sell. Many fans of different clubs have their certificate framed on display, proving it means something.

At one point they were valued at over £500 but soon they plummeted, as did the relationship. By the time I was kicked out and the shares sold to get rid of a painful reminder of happier days, they raised less than £100. Spurs’ romance with the new ways faded just as brutally. We sold our finest players Waddle and Gascoigne to stave off financial ruin and the businesses failed. Maxwell was a telephone call away from taking over the club so perhaps we should be grateful for Alan Sugar sorting out the mess Scholar left behind. Actually, perhaps not, but again, that’s a story for another time.

It was then that the true nature of the new era became clear. Thatcher’s meritocracy was nothing of the sort. Power and wealth became concentrated in the hands of the few and the gap between rich and poor widened. As with society, so it was with football. The advent of the Premiership and the Champions League meant that the top clubs and Sky TV held sway. Rocketing admission prices transformed the fan experience with many alienated for good, never to come back, and others priced out of the game they loved. Kick-off times were at the whim of television. PLC not F.C. Far from being part of things, football fans had never been more helpless.

Now we’re all experts on football finance. We have to be because it’s all over the back pages and otherwise we can’t keep up with events at our clubs. Never mind 4-4-2 or 4-3-3, it’s the income to salaries gearing that holds the key to success. False 9 or false accounts? Ask some of the clubs that have gone down the tube. Despite the sterling efforts of fans’ organisations and protest groups, the legacy of football shareholding is that many of us feel more distant from the game, our game, than at any point in living memory.

I’m still in play, mind, thanks to the gift a few years ago from my daughter of a single Spurs share. It came in a fancy tin box (safety deposit, just in case?) with some blurb about the club. Now that’s a juicy business to be in – buy the share for next to nothing, add cheap packaging and charge £19.99. Football fans are nothing if not loyal and gullible.

So what to do about the de-listing? I don’t know where the certificate is but I recently found my last dividend cheque, £0.04, proudly un-cashed. The PLC tell me my share is worth 33p and I have until 11th January to decide. I could sell, and use the results of my foray into the murky world of high finance to buy, say, a 6th of a cup of instant tea or coffee on matchday, or two gulps of water. I expect that I won’t be bothered, however, and will keep it as a souvenir of the days when the club couldn’t be bothered about me either.