Month: January 2009

Categories
Spurs news, rants

Hossam Ghaly – Burying the Hatchet

Forgive and forget – that’s the new motto at Spurs as injuries and suspensions leave ‘Arry with little choice but to draft the dastardly Hossam Ghaly back into the squad.

 

I have to confess that I didn’t actually boo Ghaly when he prepared to come on vs Wigan. This is primarily because I wasn’t even at the ground. However, as I listened to the jeers on the radio, I nodded my head in agreement, and as such I’m guilty by all-action-no-plot association. Mea culpa, folks.I’ve never really been one to boo my own player. I’m happy enough to dish it out to an opponent, in panto-villain style (Berba, take a bow son), and I guess I’ll boo the entire team off the pitch if they’ve been useless. I’ve sure as hell flung up my hands in exasperation and turned the air purple as the likes of Jenas and Doherty have repeatedly conceded possession and missed from inside the six-yard box. This however, merely confirms that I am a Spurs fan and I have a pulse.

If I were a player myself I’d be chuffed to hear the fans sing my name, a little nonplussed to hear the fans sing their hatred of a different team and pretty darn annoyed to hear a team-mate getting booed by his own. With a big cup game tonight, and whole-hearted support needed a la Seville 2007, the moral of the story, kids, is clear: let’s not boo Ghaly any more.

That said, I’m hardly about to roll out the red carpet for the lad. Aright, the whole episode was 18 months ago or more, and nobody died. However, in these days of minimal loyalty and over-paid players, I don’t think it’s asking too much for 90 minutes worth of effort and respect towards the fans. Ghaly certainly forgot about the latter during his strop, in front of thousands of people who shell out a hefty amount each week for the club. He’s made the right noises with his apologies, and hopefully he’ll put in some good performances for us – but does anyone really think he cares about Spurs?

I’ll politely applaud his name tonight, I won’t give him stick – or nod approvingly if others do so – but if he expects a hearty pat on the back and songs in his honour he can go buy a hat and eat it. No chance, sonny-jimbo. I’m just doing this for the good of the team. (No doubt the lad will be mortified to read this. That’ll learn him).

Categories
Spurs transfers

Jermain Defoe is a Yiddo. Again.

The return of Defoe – and his good lady – to Norf London will certainly please the Park Laners who have been yelling his name even as Pav and Bent have been knocking them in, but while I hate to pop the balloons, pour the alchohol down the sink and kick everyone out, I do wonder – is this really what we need?
On the plus side, he’s undoubtedly a top finisher, as capable of fashioning a goal when picking up the ball 45 yards out as he his at poaching from inside the six-yard box. As he’s hardly likely to be played alone up-front, his arrival suggests a switch to 4-4-2 – another plus point in the all-action-no-plot book. And our current assortment of three strikers just isn’t enough, if we’re competing on several fronts. Although Defoe will be ineligible in the Uefa cup, merrily it seems he’s good to go in the Carling.

 

Less positively – personally I’d bring in a defensive midfielder. But then, every day since I was five years old I’ve prayed for peace on earth, one million pounds and a defensive midfielder at Spurs, so this will always be a gripe of mine. For £15 mil we could buy a decent defensive midfielder and a half-decent third/fourth-choice striker.Also, while we’ve been short of goals, this has hardly seemed to be the strikers’ faults. They’ve not exactly been missing chances; they’ve been starved of service. Particularly within 4-5-1, when they’ve needed noses like hounds – small, black and wet – just to get a sniff of the ball.

All told, however, I can’t lie – I’m chuffed to bits to see Defoe return. In a parallel universe we would instead spend several million on a striker who’s really not that good at goalscoring – we’ve certainly got previous there – so a hard worker with pace and a pretty darn good scoring record is fine by me.His return raises some key questions – not least who will partner him, out of Bent and Pav. My roubles are on the Russian, but time will tell.More pressing is the issue of which shirt number he ends up with, given that Fraizer Campbell is currently keeping the legendary number 18 warm. As the spikey-haired youths of the Park Lane dust off their year-old “Defoe 18” jerseys there will be some clamour to restore this to him. However, Mr Levy strikes me as one who won’t pass up the opportunity to dispense with a century of tradition if he can make a fast buck out of it, so I suspect Defoe’s 18 will become a thing of the past, and a brand new number will be unveiled, thereby swelling the Megastore coffers. This is an era when Paul Stalteri can wear the number 7, and William Gallas the number 10, so heaven knows what Defoe will end up with. Good to have you back, lad.

 

 
 
 

 

Categories
Spurs transfers

Spurs to sign Stewart Downing? Oh hell…

Oh hell. Stewart “One-Trick” Downing has dipped his right shoulder, galloped off to the left and handed in a transfer request at ‘Boro. For some reason three successive Spurs managers have pursued him, and the wires suggest that he’ll soon be ours, for around £11 mil.
The faithful down the Lane are a good vocal bunch – The Sunday Times, no less, had us down as the second-noisiest Premiership crowd in the land, by decibel, earlier this season (behind Stoke, or Sunderland or someone) – but we’re not slow to criticise our own either. As such, I can’t help thinking that as soon as One-Trick dips his right shoulder, gallops off to the left and starts whipping crosses into orbit he’ll get all sorts of stick from the Park Lane.

Make no mistake, I really hope we get behind the guy if/when he arrives, in the same way that I hope he delivers the goods for us. I just fear the worst. This is a barrage of abuse waiting to happen. It’s not big or clever, we ought not to do it, but there’s a simple way of negating all this – don’t buy him, ‘Arry!!! Stick Bale, or Jamie “Three-Touch” O’Hara out left instead. Or Adel Taraabt. Or have a go out wide yourself, ‘Arry. Or, if you must, continue with Bentley.

I find it a little bewildering to be formulating plans aimed at correcting something which hasn’t yet happened. It’s a bit like being the chap in Terminator trying to save John Connor before he was born. Ah well, such is life in the all-action-no-plot universe. I’m just a time-travelling freedom fighter trying to save humanity, and with a dip of the right shoulder and gallop out to the left, One-Trick Downing is an almost-indestructible Terminator, looking to screw everything up. Maybe the solution is to throw ‘Arry into a vat of burning liquid metal. (I think it’s time for me to have a lie-down.)

 

 

Categories
Rants on the Beautiful Game

A Rant Against The “Romance of the Cup”

If I hear one more person bang on about the “romance of the cup” I’ll be forced to grind my teeth and shake a clenched fist in rage, God help you all.

 

I do all-action-no-plot, not romance. My favourite romantic film is Die Hard (the whole Ms Holly Genaro/Mrs Holly McClane sub-plot has me choking back the tears). Come FA Cup 3rd/4th round weekend each year I’m forced to chop down the nearest tree, turn it into a paper bag and vomit into it, as pundits, commentators, ex-pros and even ex-blinking-amateurs go all dewey-eyed at memories of Tesco AFC of the Salted Peanuts Division South knocking out the mighty Aldershot on a muddy bog in January 1972, accompanied by Motty’s tedious screeching.

 

I guess it’s nice if you’re the lad who scored the winner for the non-league lot back in the days when Martin Jol (blessed be his name) had hair – and a kick-ass beard as it happens –  but I’m not that lad. Nor am I a member of his family, or anyone else who cares.I’m a Spurs fan. Therefore, come the FA Cup I want to see all the big teams knocked out, thus smoothing our progress so that we play Burnley in the semi-final, rather than Man Utd in the 4th round. However, if Spurs have already been knocked out I want to see all the big teams left in to play each other in the final stages, free and accessible on terrestrial. Last year’s semi-final line-up comprised Pompey, Cardiff, West Brom and Barnsely, and was consequently watched by eight people across the country. I watched the final between Pompey and Cardiff, and it left me yearning for a flux capacitor which would enable me to go back to my settee at 2.59pm and stick on a dvd of 5-1 vs Germany instead.

 

 

 

The Champs League final between Man Utd and Chelski, by contrast, was a game of cracking quality. I realise that two top teams can play each other and produce a rubbish game, and having caught the Gillingham-Villa game on Sunday I realise that lower-league-vs-Premiership can provide some excitement. I realise too that the windfalls from such glamour ties can keep the rubbish teams going, and that I sincerely support.Indeed, if I were trying to construct a logical, scientific proof that the romance of the cup is worthless and moribund, such counter-claims would be pretty damning – but I’m not trying to do that. I’m just venting my spleen, in a fit of uncontrollable rage, and communicating to the all-action-no-plot world my hatred of the sickening notion of the “romance of the cup”. I’m rallying against those who seem to assume that I should go weak at the knees at its mention, in much the same way as it’s assumed that I should love Nelson Mandela purely on account of my membership of the human race. To quote Rodney Trotter, no way Pedro. Read my lips – I LOATHE THE ROMANCE OF THE CUP, AND MR T IS MILES BETTER THAN NELSON MANDELA.

 

Categories
Spurs match reports

Spurs 3-1 Wigan: More jeers for Ghaly, Cheers for 4-4-2

Football fans are often accused of fickleness, but there is a rather unfortunate consistency about our treatment of Hossam Ghaly.

It is well over a year since he pulled off his Spurs shirt and flung it on the ground, incurring the wrath of fans throughout the stadium and beyond. Yesterday, as he readied himself for his first substitute appearance since, the N17 regulars began spitting feathers at the sight, and ‘Arry thought better of it. It appears that young Ghaly may have played his last game for Spurs. 
 
 

 

I’d imagine that there was nothing malicious in Ghaly’s act of throwing away the shirt. Bear in mind that he had just suffered the ignominy of being substituted having only himself entered the fray as a substitute. He must therefore have been most irked at life in general and his manager – Martin Jol (blessed be his name) – in particular. In front of 36,000 people, that’s pretty humiliating.Oh, that he had instead vented his displeasure by grinding his teeth, or kicking a water bottle, or burning a small annoying child. We’d have understood that, maybe even sympathised and surely moved on.
But pulling off the legendary lilywhite shirt and tossing it to the dirt, proud cockerel and all, could diplomatically be described as an ill-advised move. In an age in which fans pay astronomical prices for their 90 minutes of torture, and in which working-class supporters  feel increasingly distanced from the multi-millionaire prima donnas who take to the pitch, the lack of regard for the badge, the very identity of the club, was a pretty poorly-constructed plan of action from one of the players. 
Understandably, many will regard the booing of fans over a year later, as a childish over-reaction. Fair point. But offensive it ain’t. It’s an expression of disapproval, to which, I think, fans are entitled.

Having spent every spare minute of his press conferences over Christmas twitching and complaining about the size of his squad, ‘Arry will now presumably have to do without Ghaly. I can’t really say that my heart bleeds for the player – he presumably feels hard done-by, but the oodles of cash pouring in every week will soften the blow, my sympathy dwindling in direct proportion. If he wants a sympathetic ear, he should pop down to the south coast and have a nice warm cuppa with one Sulzeer Campbell esquire.

More tactically…

 Every time ‘Arry’s played 4-5-1 I’ve bemoaned the lack of support for the lone striker. Yesterday it was 4-4-2, and he entrusted holding duties to Zokora alone, with Modric the attacking half a central midfield pair. Now a slightly cumbersome win against a second-string Wigan team will have very few (outside All-Action-No-Plot Towers) singing from the rooftops, but I’m much encouraged.

Whether or not Zokora and Modric are a sufficiently strong central pairing to cut it in the Premiership is an entirely different kettle of fish, and frankly I suspect they’re not. Still, the tweaked formation, and its success, give ‘Arry food for thought.

Not too pleased about the emergence of yet another alice-band in the ranks though. Lose it, Luka.
 
 

 

 

Categories
Spurs preview

Spurs – Wigan preview: Alas, we’re a cup-team once more

I suspect I wasn’t the only one waking up on New Year’s morning with a horrible sense of dismayed realisation. As I tried to figure out whose flat I was in, and get rid of the sickly sweet taste of JD-cointreau-lemonade in my mouth, the terrible truth slowly dawned in me – Spurs have once again become a cup team. 

As far back as I can remember Spurs had always been better in the cups than the league, but under big scary Martin Jol (blessed be his name) it looked like things were about to change. Two consecutive fifth-placed finishes, and phrases like “consistency”, “top four” and “Champions League places” were being bandied around. It was all so tantalisingly close… 

On New Year’s morning however, with the sounds of my first ever Hogamanay still pounding around my head, it occurred to me that those two seasons were the exception rather than the norm. As I gasped for water and scrolled quizzically through the photos on the digital camera (where was that? who was she?) I realised that it simply isn’t becoming of an all-action-no-plot team to boast a strong defence, produce consistent performances and grind out single-goal wins. Instead, we’ve left that approach to Villa, who have also purloined our blood-the-young-English-talent approach. For our part we’ve reverted to the occasional blitzkrieg performance amidst a slew of moribund defeats to the division’s lowliest, a habit far more typical of a cup-team. Mid-table mediocrity, and the occasional trophy – it should be our motto.  Never mind audere est facere, let’s go with “Purgamentum in medii mensae, aliquando tropaeum“ 

Wigan at home is a game we ought to win, irrespective of the competition, venue, year or alignment of the planets. Quite why we’re playing on a Friday night is anyone’s guess. As if I wasn’t already sufficiently confused by the whole business of waking-up-in-a-strange-flat-and-coming-back-into-the-office-for-one-day-which-feels-like-Monday-but-is-actually-a Friday. I get the feeling ‘Arry wouldn’t be entirely dismayed if we got knocked out tonight, given our current fixture list (his twitch will go into overdrive if it goes to a replay) but having seen Cardiff and Millwall make the final in recent years I’d like to see us take it seriously