All Action, No Plot

Something for your withdrawal symptoms if, like yours truly, you have such a Tottenham-shaped hole in your life that you now spend the first half hour of your working day actually working, rather than trawling the interweb for morsels of Spurs news. Before season 2009/10 becomes but a sepia-tinged memory sending good vibrations through your very core, it is only right and proper that the second AANP End of Season Awards are dished out.

Admittedly it’s a bit late (we at AANP Towers can be lazy so-and-so’s) and there is no arguing with the fact that vastly more rational appraisals of the season’s ins and outs can be found down the road at Dear Mr Levy, at Jimmy G2’s abode and at the ever-entertaining Who Framed Ruel Fox? - but please do now pour yourself a good bourbon, stick some Julie London on the gramophone and ask a kindly neighbour to perform a suitably dramatic drumroll…

The Storm From X-Men Award For The Most Pointless Superpower in Christendom

That Halle Berry lass is quite the looker, make no mistake, but the character she plays in the X-Men trilogy is pointless in extremis, boasting the highly dubious capacity to send a gentle breeze rustling the leaves whenever her eyes go white. There are a couple at the Lane who have similarly useless calling cards – note Robbie Keane’s inimitable ability to point and flap and shout every time he loses possession, while scuttling around in circles of ever-diminishing diameter. The Hudd is also a contender in this category, possessing the most ferocious shot known to man, but all too often using it to decapitate punters in the upper reaches of the North/South Lower. However, the master of pointlessness in season 2009-10 has been Heurelho Gomes, for his occasional tendency to overarm-hurl the ball beyond the halfway line. Which is nothing that could not be achieved simply by picking it up and kicking it.

The Play-Off-Chap-Who-Chipped-It Award For Most Mental Penalty Of The Season

There’s an unhealthy obsession with that 12-yard spot over at the Lane, right from the opening day of the campaign when we conceded to Liverpool. In the latter stages of the season Sergeant Wilson confusingly made it his mission in every single game to go bundling over someone in the area, while BAE and Daws were amongst numerous others who saw fit to go hurtling in at opposition legs when all manner of wiser options were available.

On top of all that, ill-fortune also befalls our lot when penalties are awarded our way. Defoe has had several saved, and the Hudd broke the habit of a lifetime when opting to place his shot rather than leather it, in his penalty against Bolton. However, amidst the blitz of spot-kicks this season, the one stands out is Robbie Keane’s against Everton – an effort initially saved by Tim Howard, prompting a melee more akin to playground football, as Messrs Bale and Bentley went charging in for the rebounds, and Howard produced about six separate parries before Keane eventually slammed the ruddy thing in. Truly, ‘twas all-action-no-plot, in penalty form.

The David Bentley Award For The Best Speculative Punt Against l’Arse

Always worth closing your eyes and putting your foot through the ball when playing against l’Arse, and this season the gods of the better half of North London smiled upon one Danny Rose. He may have to go some to make the grade, but with one inspired swing of his left leg the chunky whippersnapper guaranteed himself immortality at the Lane.

The Bacary Sagna’s Hair Award For Fashion Faux Pas of The Season

Frankly they have been a bit thin on the ground this year. Gareth Bale’s hair-clip is long gone; Defoe has stopped messing around and settled upon a nice, smart short-back-and-sides; even the tattoo brigade have decided against emblazoning the name of their latest WAG across their foreheads and stuck with poetry on the forearm. Therefore, this season’s ignominy falls upon the good folk of Puma, for putting together quite possibly the worst home shirt in our history. It really ought not to be possible to make a mess of a plain white top, but that particular ignominy was duly achieved by the gift of random yellow streaks. I remarked before the season began, when there was nothing better to discuss, that I would not mind what we wore if we qualified for the Champions League; but having achieved that goal I actually change my mind – it would have been much nicer to have finished fourth in the ’91 Umbro kit, or even 2008-09’s straightforward white-with-blue-trim shirt. Good to see that Puma has duly made amends with a lovely shiny retro effort for next season.

The Clegg-Cameron Award For Unlikely Partnership Of The Season

For the first half of the season it appeared that Messrs Corluka and Lennon would retain their crown – two chaps who one imagines barely speak to each other on non-matchdays, but who combine to glorious effect once ambling around on the turf. However, once injury struck we had to look elsewhere for our resident odd-couple, and suspension for Sergeant Wilson duly created the opportunity, as Modders and Hudd were flung together. With each of them having demonstrated a certain reluctance throughout their careers to whisper “boo” at passing geese, one wondered quite how they would fare in the tough-tackling world of Premiership central midfield battles, but despite being outnumbered against both l’Arse and Chelski they held their own quite comfortably, creating a platform for all manner of wonderfulness on the flanks and up top. Chalk and cheese in human form they may be, but one hell of an on-field combo.

The Saving Private Ryan Award For The Most Mental, 30 Minute, All-Action-No-Plot Sequence Of The Season

While there was an astonishing all-action 30 seconds or so late on in the season, at home to Pompey (when Thudd almost snapped the woodwork in two, Crouch volleyed the rebound against the very same spot, and then tried an overhead kick from the resulting corner), the most astonishing half hour of this – and quite possibly any – season, was in the second half at home to Wigan. Jermain Defoe donned his Midas suit, and Niko Kranjcar responded to our last-minute please for “One more, we only want one more”, as a little bit of history unfolded at the Lane.

The Et Tu Brute? Award For Attacking Your Own Team-Mate

When Benoit Assou-Ekotto tried smiling, after scoring on the opening day of the season, the sight was so disturbing that small children began bawling and a watching Medusa turned to stone. The man is not one of life’s certified friendly folk, so there was a vague inevitability about the fact that he ended up turning on one of his own team-mates. Vedram Corluka was the unfortunate victim, a push and shove ensuing during the match against Stoke accompanied by language so fruity that those bastions of virtue at the BBC took the honourable step of censoring/pixellating BAE’s mouth when they showed highlights of the incident on that night’s Match of the Day. No harm was done that afternoon, but I fancy that Corluka will one day look in the mirror and see BAE standing behind him with some stabbing implement in hand and expressionless stare on his visage. Creepy.

The “Sod It – Who Else Wants A Go?” Award For Most Popular Position Of The Season

If you’re a male, aged 17-32 and in possession of the requisite number of limbs plus a pair of football boots, the chances are that ‘Arry cast an eye over you at some point this season to help out at right-back. Despite having collected them like stamps just a couple of years ago, we seem to have been desperately short this time around once Corluka hobbled off the scene, resulting in BAE, Kyle Walker, Sergeant Wilson and finally Younes Kaboul each filling in at various stages of the season. If Messrs Hutton and Naughton are recalled from loan we could seriously consider fielding an entire outfield team of right-backs.

The Geoff Hurst Award For Hat-Trick of the Season

This may annoy Jermain Defoe, after hat-tricks against Wigan, Hull and Leeds, but Heurehlo Gomes’ three saves in quick succession against l’Arse not only won us the game and gave a timely adrenaline shot towards Champions League qualification, they also created a whole new branch of science, the traditional understanding of space-time dynamics having been rendered obsolete by the chap’s quite astonishing performance.

The Teddy Sheringham Award For Moving Exceptionally Slowly For A Professional Athlete

The arrival of Eidur Gudjohnsen on loan in January made for interesting comparisons with Sheringham, not just in terms of his pace (or lack thereof) but also his general touch and positional sense on the pitch. However, when it comes to the art of ambling, Vedran Corluka remains peerless. Which is fine, because he’s got Aaron Lennon ahead of him to do all the running we need.

The Klinsmann-Dive Award For Celebration Of The Season

The bar was set pretty low here, with BAE simply not knowing what to do after he thumped in his opening day scorcher against Liverpool by running off. Further woeful celebrations were to follow, with Gareth Bale doing a really weird twisty-hand thing after scoring against l’Arse, and then treating us to a nice big heart against Chelski. Fortunately, David Bentley made up for the general lack of invention, by pouring a bucket of ice over his manager and then prancing around in his underwear on live TV, after the Man City game.

AANP’s first book, Spurs’ Cult Heroes, is now available in the Spurs shop, all good bookshops and online (at Tottenhamhotspur.com, as well as WHSmith, Amazon , Tesco, Waterstones and Play). 

You can become a Facebook fan of Spurs’ Cult Heroes and AANP here, follow on Twitter here

No transfers. Not even any rumours. And this following a record number of clean sheets at home, and a seemingly endless run of one-nil wins. “All action”? Really?

Once again there is nothing to report from the Lane, so I’m just going to ramble away a little stream of consciousness - by all means duck out now and go youtube a Michael Jackson song or something.

Once Upon A Time…

Once upon a time the title “All Action, No Plot” made perfect sense for a Spurs blog. Alright, you pedants, maybe not perfect sense – I suppose “Spurs-Tottenham-Hotspur-White-Hart-Lane-Yiddo-COYS-Two-Points-Eight-Games-Blog” would probably be statistically more suitable for search engines. But you get the point. All action, no plot - we’re that sort of team.

Or rather, we were that sort of team. Once upon a time, not so long ago. When I’m a millionaire I’ll build a Sistine chapel-style ceiling at AANP Towers, decorated with Mabbutt’s own-goal in the ’87 Cup Final to commemorate the first game I ever watched (or remember watching). It was a suitably mad-cap game, and rather set the tone. There is no shortage of other moments that can be immortalised in blue and lilywhite (and yellow) on my ceiling - Gazza and Lineker destroying l’Arse; Jurgen spearheading a 5-0-5 formation; the night of a thousand thrown away half-time leads; and more 4-4 draws than you can wave a stick at. Plenty of action there, and precious little plot.

Off the pitch, it’s similarly mental – squillions of pounds flung at managers on limited time, while the good folk of N17 relentlessly bay for champagne football and the blood of Jermaine Jenas.

Thus, the name “All Action, No Plot” was decided upon in a few milliseconds with a couple of mates in a foreign bar, allowing us to get on with the more pressing business of casting a modern-day Hollywood remake of The A-Team*.

Times Are A-Changing

However, that madcap act-first-think-later mentality at Spurs is now seemingly being replaced by something far more thoughtful and considered. The settled back-four, the consistent team-selection, the growing confidence that we will win at home.

I never thought the day would come, but I readily admit – this maturity is being welcomed with open arms at AANP Towers. It’s a seminal moment, rather like that point in Rocky IV when the Soviets start jeering Dolph Lundgren and cheering Stallone. Or the moment in Escape to Victory when the Nazis cheers Pele’s overhead kick. There is less action and more plot at the Lane – and AANP likes it. Cripes.

It’s not that we’re turning into one of the dull, boring, soporific also-rans of the Premiership, a George Graham Arsenal. Not at all.  We still have bundles of creativity, and play football that is pleasing on the eye. None of that long-ball nonsense. In fact, precious few goals from crosses either – which suggests that our strikers really ought to work on their heading. No, the football looks fine, and, especially on the counter-attack, can be quite breathtaking, but is complemented by a sturdy defensive platform.

And now as the summer stretches out, behind the thick curtain of rumour, it transpires that there is actually precious little happening. Again this lack of action, and hint of plot, is viewed with approval at AANP Towers. I’d have bought a tennis racket and smashed it on some grass if we’d gone through another summer of ripping up the spine of the squad and bringing in squillions of pounds worth of unproven attackers (although I’m well aware that this might yet happen).

So far however, the approach seems relatively circumspect – no wholesale clearout, yet, and no heinous sum splashed out on an unknown foreign striker. It suggests that the management know what they want to do this summer, and are primarily aiming to maintain stability.

The title of this little corner of the internet will remain the same, and in all other walks of life the all-action-no-plot mentality remains the breathless approach of choice, but it pleases me to note that by gently turning down the all-action-no-plot meter at Spurs we seem to be making progress.

* = I’d have gone for George Clooney as Hannibal; Jim Carrey as Murdock; some generic pretty-boy – possibly Johnny Depp - as Face; and B.A. is a tough one. Vin Diesel? Ving Rhames? Anyone else whose name begins with “Vin”?

All-Action-No-Plot is going to spend the next three weeks in Australia and NZ, topping up its tan and teaching its baby nephews about the glory days of Bent, Doherty and Mitchell Thomas. The postings will continue by hook or by crook, but do bear with me as AANP does a Zokora and goes charging off into the unknown with little clue about how to deliver the end product.

The more eagle-eyed of you may have noticed that All-Action-No-Plot looks a tad different. Unfortunately the early indications are that as new kits go this isn’t really in the league of that cracking ‘91 Cup Final Umbro effort. In a desperate attempt to justify it I’ll claim that this shiny-new-yet-bland page now resembles our 125^th anniversary home kit from last season – plain white, traditional and by no means a cynical money-making ploy, honest. Plus, that kit eventually won a trophy, so who knows where this site might one day go…? Fear ye not though, these lilywhite pages will continue to burst at the seams with copious amounts of action, whilst containing not even the merest traces of plot…