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
“If you can meet with triumph and disaster, and treat those two imposters just the same…”
So said the cake-making chap, but I make no apologies for the fact that I treat the two rather differently. Almost every Spurs-supporting day of my life has been spent meeting with disaster – cursing or stomping, or at the very least shrugging philosophically. And then for the first 80 minutes last night the priority was just to avoid throwing up, as Tottenham did what Tottenham do and the agony of it all made my stomach fold in on itself.
Today, however, it’s triumph alright, and you can spot the Spurs fans a mile off for the great big beaming grins. Here at AANP Towers it’s taken the best part of 24 hours to float gently back down to earth, a process still not quite complete.
Champions League. Where the world’s best play one-twos, and clubs are given squillions of pounds just for having a half-time break.
Champions League, baby!
Alright, there’s a qualifying whatsit in August, but let’s worry about that later (hell, let’s finish third and remove the qualifier from the equation). Lest you be waiting for some objective assessment and reasoned debate, I might as well point out that it ain’t going to happen, not round these parts. Not today. The mood at AANP Towers is still very much tip-a-bucket-of-ice-cold-water-on-your-boss-and-laugh-at-him-in-yer-underwear.
Playing For A Draw
A point would have done the trick, so ‘Arry picked a line-up that could only have been more attacking if he’d dropped Gomes and stuck Gudjohnsen in behind the front two instead. Gloriously, this Tottenham team doesn’t quite know how to play for a point. In fact I’m not quite sure they realize that they still pick up a point if the scores are level at full-time.
These are changed times I tell ye. In the last 20 years or so The Tottenham Way™ has been about salvaging ignominy from the jaws of glory, about keeping a loaded pistol close at hand in order to guarantee a means of shooting oneself in the foot at a moment’s notice. This current bunch however, is a different breed. With scant regard for the traditions forged over 20-plus years of false dawns and spectacular implosions, this lot have made a habit of delivering top-notch performances with the pressure on. Slick in possession; razor-sharp on the counter-attack; and organized throughout when not in possession – it’s so good to watch I would support us even if I didn’t support us, if you follow.
Gold Stars and Back-Slaps
As has been the case for week upon week, amazingness burst from every lilywhite shirt, one chap’s man-of-the-match nominations only scuppered because of the performance of the fellow alongside him.
Crouch’s well-meaning but often mediocre performances have had the denizens of AANP Towers howling in frustration at various points this season, but last night he ruddy well delivered. Where previously some queried how he managed to snare Abby Clancy, now every Tottenham fan - man, woman and child - openly professes their love for the gangly maestro. With a laudable sense of timing he saved his best performance in a Spurs shirt for our most important game in years, winning nigh on everything that was lobbed up at him (credit too to Defoe, for a determined stab at that whole business of puffing up the chest, sticking out the backside and holding up the ball). There is a fair amount of air-space between Crouch’s quiff and his size fifteens, so whenever he tried to bring down the ball it typically happened in a number of installments, and via various hops and skips and jabbing of his pointy limbs. Yet if a City player tried to interrupt the procedure, he managed to produce another giant appendage, and kept doing this until the ball eventually hit the deck, and one of his chums arrived in support. All that, and the most important goal we’ve scored in years. Peter Crouch, AANP salutes thee.
Modders and Hudd are fast becoming the greatest mismatched double-act since B.A. and Murdock. Neither is exactly a born tackler, but they have managed to turn us into a team that no longer needs a central midfield tackler - which at White Hart Lane is pretty much tantamount to alchemy. They just scurry back in position whenever we lose the ball, and politely refuse entry to any young upstart trying to barge their way through to our penalty area. Once the ball is back in their grasp the fun begins, these two possessing technique and passing constructed from the very DNA of Tottenham Hotspur FC.
At the back, Kaboul’s astonishing flirtation with amazingness continues, while Gomes duly delivered the now customary three world-class saves. I am a tad worried that King and Dawson will imminently be exposed by FIFA as gods, masquerading as mere mortals kicking footballs, and we will be deducted 10 points as a result; but until then I continue to watch in awe, and offer small, symbolic sacrifices by way of thanks.
Mature, disciplined, creative, confident – it sure as hell didn’t resemble many of the Spurs teams I’ve watched over the last couple of decades, and yet now it happens every week, against the best teams in the country. Last night was supposed to be our cue to choke; instead we reached the Champions League. I still can’t quite believe it. Glory Glory Tottenham Hotspur.
Talk Champions League With Gary Mabbutt!
Apologies for the shameless plug, but Saturday is the last chance to catch Gary Mabbutt signing copies of Spurs’ Cult Heroes. Previous sessions have indicated that the man is a true gent, and more than happy to stop and talk Tottenham with the fans. The session begins at 1pm, at Waterstones Walthamstow (26 Selborne Walk, London E17 7JR).
Spurs’ Cult Heroes, is now available in the Spurs shop, 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
Tempus doesn’t half fugit when things are going swimmingly. It barely seem five minutes ago that we pitched up to the Lane for the first time this season, to offer Steven Gerrard some legal advice (“Self-defence, you’re having a laugh”) and salute BAE’s frankly mental long-range effort. Eight months on and who would have predicted that the top four we would be ours to throw away? Harking back through the yellowed pages of AANP’s archives I note that top-six was the target around these parts last August. Not that that will soften the blow should we mess things up from here…
Seeing off Bolton will hardly be a straightforward task – Kevin Davies in particular has taken rather a liking to our onion bag – but there are no excuses. Three points today (and next Sunday) are essential.
No Ledley. Not Today
If Ledley goes trotting onto the pitch at 2.55 I think I’ll personally march out there and slap a chloroformed handkerchief across his face just to prevent his participation. I fancy us to beat Bolton with Bassong and Daws bringing up the rear; vastly more important that Ledley’s knees are tickety-boo ahead of the clash with Tevez, Adebayor et al on Wednesday. The only sighting of Ledley ought to be encased from head to toe in a cocoon of cotton wool, as the players amble around for the end-of-season lap of honour at full-time.
A similar argument might also be made in favour of restricting Aaron Lennon to a cameo, with one eye on Wednesday night. Whether or not he starts, it seems likely that at some point at least we will be treated to the sight of Bale on one flank and Lennon on t’other, which would serve as a delightful end of season gift.
Elsewhere on the Pitch
It’s been debated ad infinitum, but to be honest the central midfield combo ought not to be as critical an issue today as against Man Utd. Impose our game upon the other lot and it won’t matter whether or not Sergeant Wilson is patrolling the centre-circle, or Modders starting out left. (Of course, should the players themselves adopt an attitude of complacency similar to that at AANP Towers our top four dream could be in tatters come the final whistle.)
Corluka is still out, so Kaboul/BAE/Walker will be tasked with doing the honourable thing on the right. (AANP would opt for Kaboul, to lend a hand in case of any aerial assault from our guests today). Bentley was a little isolated on the right wing last week, so a slightly more generous attitude from today’s chosen right-back would go down well.
Win-draw-win will do the trick - but when did our lot ever do things the straightforward way?
Gary Mabbutt will be signing copies of AANP book Spurs’ Cult Heroes for the masses at Waterstones Walthamstow - Saturday 8 May, 1pm
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
A theory doing the rounds in some quarters is that the crunch games in our push for fourth is not the quartet against the big boys (Man Utd-l’Arse-Chelski-City) but the four against the less glamorous mob – Pompey, Sunderland, Burnley and Bolton. Anything less than three points against each of this lot, so goes the theory, and we really will throw away fourth spot.
AANP rather struggles to get its head around all this truth be told, and is likely to be an equal bag of nerves immediately prior to kick-off in each of these games. However, whichever view one adopts, there can be no question that three points is absolutely essential today. (And preferably to be achieved without further injuries). For various reasons - form, quality, O’Hara ineligible - this a mismatch of fairly epic proportions, which ought to be viewed as a chance to fill our boots and add a little sheen to our goal difference.
Team News
Neither Corluka nor Bassong looked completely thrilled with life when they hobbled off on Wednesday night, so I might even take my own boots along this afternoon, on the off-chance. The back-four could read BAE-Daws-Kaboul-Bale, which would be a tad makeshift, but still ought to cope. After ‘Arry’s inspired decision to replace a right-back with a striker in midweek, we may yet see in real life that 2-2-6 formation once famously employed by AANP in a computer game. Unlikely though. For 25 minutes against Fulham our heroes were simply magnificent, and we ought not to need to scale such heights again in order to wrap up the three points today.
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).
All are most welcome to leave memories - and browse those of others - regarding the players featured in Spurs’ Cult Heroes: Danny Blanchflower here, Dave Mackay here, Cliff Jones here, Martin Chivers here, Alan Gilzean here, Pat Jennings here, Cyril Knowles here, Steve Perryman here, Glenn Hoddle here, Chris Waddle here, Ossie and Ricky here, Gary Mabbutt here, Graham Roberts here, Jimmy Greaves here, Clive Allen here, Jürgen Klinsmann here, David Ginola here, Paul Gascoigne here. Also featured in the book are Sandy Brown and the late, great Bill Nicholson.
You can become a Facebook fan of Spurs’ Cult Heroes and AANP here, follow on Twitter here
A gentle public service announcement, for those who might be interested – a team of Spurs veterans is in action on Sunday 15th November, 2pm at Wadham Lodge, Walthamstow.
The Spurs team in action will include legendary Uefa Cup-winning captain (and featured player in Spurs’ Cult Heroes) Graham Roberts, as well as Tony Galvin, Gary Stevens, Mark Falco, Micky Hazard, Steve Sedgely, Clive Wilson, Garry Brooke and Mark Stimson.
Tickets are £5 on the door (or in advance from the Bill Nick pub by White Hart Lane)
As ever, all are most welcome to leave memories - and browse those of others - regarding some of the players to be featured in forthcoming book Spurs’ Cult Heroes : Danny Blanchflower here, Dave Mackay here, Cliff Jones here, Glenn Hoddle here, Chris Waddle here, Ossie and Ricky here, Gary Mabbutt here, Graham Roberts here, Jimmy Greaves here, Clive Allen here, Jurgen Klinsmann here
You can become a Facebook fan of Spurs’ Cult Heroes and AANP here, or follow on Twitter here
If you enjoy those 15 half-time minutes when the subs come trotting out and half-heartedly ping the ball around, you’ll love tonight. Pav, Bentley, Hutton and Bale are all in line to start, as ‘Arry rings the changes with half an eye (in a manner of speaking) on Saturday’s game.
League or Cups? (Why Not Both?)
The absences of King, Woodgate, Lennon, Modric and Defoe force most of the changes upon us irrespective of the prioritising. The only optional changes ‘Arry is likely to make are in attack – where I suspect most of us would like to see Pav get his chance anyway – and in the full-back positions.
My tuppence worth is that I don’t particularly want to see Hutton and Bale in for Charlie and BAE at full-back. This has less to do with the quality of the personnel (I’m rather a fan of Bale as it happens) as the fact that our team is already mightily disrupted with all the injuries. Making unenforced changes on top of those is asking for trouble, particularly in defence, where in the absence of Ledley the players sometimes appear a little uncertain as to the names of the chaps alongside them. All members of our squad are capable Premiership-standard players, but make too many changes and the team’s performance could be as aimless as those half-time exercises.
I’ll be curious as to whether Sergeant Wilson starts. An injury or suspension to him really would give our squad for Saturday the look of a man who’s had his spine ripped from his body, something ‘Arry will presumably have taken into account. However, without him tonight we find ourselves looking towards the might of Jenas and Hudd to boss the game. Forgive me for feeling a little underwhelmed at the prospect, particularly as Tim Cahill in the opposition ranks will give us a glimpse of what we’re missing in central midfield. Still, after flattering to deceive against Stoke Jenas and Hudd owe us a good performance each.
So a rare opportunity for the squad players, and added responsibility on the shoulders of Dawson, Jenas, Hudd and Crouch. Not necessarily a line-up to have Everton quivering in their boots, but I’m pinning my hopes on home advantage seeing us through.
As ever, all are most welcome to leave memories - and browse those of others - regarding some of the players to be featured in forthcoming book Spurs’ Cult Heroes: Dave Mackay here, Cliff Jones here, Glenn Hoddle here, Chris Waddle here, Ossie and Ricky here, Gary Mabbutt here, Graham Roberts here, Jimmy Greaves here, Clive Allen here, Jurgen Klinsmann here
You can become a Facebook fan of Spurs’ Cult Heroes and AANP here, or follow on Twitter here.
So, after several weeks in which dust has gathered and tumbleweed idly rolled around White Hart Lane, the last seven days have seen a welcome return to complete all-action-no-plot madness at Spurs, with Darren Bent’s glorious rant, a spell behind bars for Jermain Defoe, a big-money signing and even a trophy.
It’s Always The Quiet Ones…
Seriously getting p***** off now. Why can’t anything be simple. It’s so frustrating hanging round doing jack s***. Do I wanna go Hull City NO. Do I wanna go stoke NO do I wanna go sunderland YES so stop f****** around, Levy.
However, the excruciating apology that went up on the club website a few hours later indicated that Bent had indeed turned green and burst out of his clothes. Crikey.
The incident reminded me of an occasion at school way back in the day, when a quiet, nerdy bespectacled kid suddenly losing the plot completely and out of the blue went mental at one of the teachers. It prompted a moment of complete shock amongst the staff (before they regained their senses and crucified the poor kid), and delight amongst us pupils, who thereafter viewed him in a new, vaguely awe-struck light.
Accordingly, I now have a new admiration for Bent and his gloriously ill-chosen unleashing of text-speak rage. I would also be intrigued to know what Hull and Stoke make of it all, given Bent’s pithy and unsubtle rejection of them as potential employers. In this politically-correct age of “no easy games” and other mind-numbing soundbites it’s been jolly entertaining to see a footballer dispense with the niceties.
And all this after he was yanked off a plane about to take off for China, which is itself rather exciting in an A-Team sort of way. Elsewhere, the bizarre soap-opera feel to the week at Spurs had Jermain Defoe stuck behind bars for a few hours (completely wrongfully I hasten to add). I half expect the coming week to bring a drugs-bust and gun-battle at Spurs Lodge.
(nb I should probably mention that AANP’s own rants at its employers can also be found on twitter, right about here.)
Transfers Bits And Pieces
The Patrick Viera rumour added to the surrealism at White Hart Lane this week. Didn’t like the idea myself. If the powers-that-be want an ex-gooner they’ll ruddy well get one, irrespective of supporter sentiment, but my objection was based more on playing ability. Common sense suggests he won’t now be the player he was in his pomp, and the few times I have seen him at Inter have been in cameo substitute roles in Champs League games vs English opposition, in which he has been peripheral and fairly ineffective.
So, rather glad over here at AANP Towers that he’s likelier to end up at the ‘orrible lot down the road, but the whole issue does raise the point that we would probably benefit from an experienced, older head in the squad. Our squad could do with some leadership that goes beyond Robbie Keane’s frantic pointing and shouting.
With centre-backs dropping like flies there has been speculation a-plenty that we’ve waved a bag of ten million shiny nuggets at Newcastle for the boy Bassong, but ‘Arry, normally rather forthright about his transfer targets, has himself has denied this. One man who will most definitely be wearing lilywhite next season is ickle Peter Crouch. I have already opined on the subject this week – the nutshell version being that it’s unspectacular, but ought to benefit Defoe and is a fair enough price in the current market.
ASIA TROPHY CHAMPIONS – HUZZAH!!!!
The players had the good grace to look suitably embarrassed as they received the trophy, and curiously even that well-oiled propaganda machine, the official club website, was a little restrained and phlegmatic in its celebrations. However, although the results don’t mean much, the inclusion of so many of our kids in the touring party has been noted with approval by the custodians of AANP Towers.
Spurs’ Cult Heroes
While I’m here I’ll just mention for those who missed it the first time: a list of 20 Spurs cult heroes is being compiled at AANP Towers, for a full-on book no less, and all are most warmly invited to pitch in – join the debate right here. Not necessarily a list of the best players we’ve had (not a Berba in sight), we’re looking for players who achieved legendary status amongst the fans for what they did at the club. Thinking caps on…
One of these days, watching Tottenham will be the death of me. They’ll score early and dominate, but then instead of scoring a second against submissive fatted calves bred specifically for the slaughter, they’ll spend the final hour earnestly faffing. I shall chew my nails, squirm and curse; and then swear and kick people; and finally become so wound up by the faffing that my heart will pop and I’ll keel over.
It was another good win – some lovely, swift, counter-attacking, coupled with a solid defence, with the enforced reorganisation handled with minimum fuss. But my goodness it would have been so much more pleasant and sedate if we could have scored a second. That would have taken the game by the hand, dressed it in its pyjamas, read it a bedtime story and put it safely to bed. Instead it all became a tad nervy as the clock ticked down. Opposition more inspired than Newcastle might have made us pay.
Lack of Presence in Attack
I have a gnawing sense that we lack a real potent presence in attack. For all the possession, and some delicious one-touch build-up play, we regularly seemed to have only one man in the opposition area. It’s breeding a tendency to try to walk the ball into the net, and play increasingly intricate and precise short-passes around a crowded area. It’s good football, and against the largely impotent Geordies ‘twas sufficient - but a real beast of a man in attack might give a cutting-edge, and make life harder for defenders.
I’m starting to wonder whether Keane has developed a twinkle in his eye for one of our midfielders, as he’s been dropping deeper and deeper in recent games, doing most of his work in the area well behind the striker and generally spending more time than is healthy around the midfield. It’s usually good work – full of energy and awareness, but he rarely seems to be in the penalty area. To be honest I struggle to remember the last time he actually had a shot.
Bent just lacks the confidence - or maybe arrogance - in front of goal to lead the line, in a Shearer or Drogba-esque way. Bent has speed and strength, but rather than boss and bully defenders he seems inclined to keep them informed at all times of his whereabouts, and politely request permission to go running around their patch. This is lovely for any girl who wants to take him home to meet her parents, but rather less useful in the cut-throat trades of line-leading and net-bulging. Start shoving defenders out of the way man, and snarl and spit and demand their lunch-money.
Defoe does at least look willing to shoot when he gets the ball, but at three feet four does not exactly have the physical presence to scatter defenders and hold up the ball. Nice to see him back though.
A Truly Astonishing Admission
I can barely believe that I’m typing this, nor can the winged pig looking on, aghast, at my window, but in a way I missed Jenas today. Seasoned All-Action-No-Plotters will no doubt be scratching their heads and checking for naughty substances in my blood stream at reading this, for I’ve rarely disguised my exasperation at the man. However, a player’s stock often rises when he is absent, and with our midfielders seemingly waiting for parental permission before entering the opposition area, I did guiltily wonder if Jenas would have made a difference. It’s what he does (get into the oppo area), rather than how he does it (mis-hit his shot).
Palacios, understandably, and Hudd, less forgivably, preferred to loiter 5-10 yards outside the area and ping in the occasional long-range thunderbolts. Awesome technique, for sure. However, when we countered at break-neck speed it would have helped to have had someone arriving Jenas-like in the area to support Bent, especially with Keane ditching the day-job to give his top chat to Modric or whomever.
Obafemi Martins
I had been dreading the visit of Obafemi Martins all season. As I’ve previously noted, I remember Emile Heskey, about 10-15 years ago, when at Leicester, just bulldozing straight through the middle of our defence and walloping the ball into the net. When Martins entered the fray I feared a similar performance, especially with no Ledley around to calm my fraying nerves. He may not be the most refined, but Martins duly set about bludgeoning defenders aside, in a manner that probably had Darren Bent running for the hills in horror. Mercifully, the bull-in-a-china-shop routine extended to his rather erratic shooting. When the transfer window re-opens, would Martins provide an answer to our lack of presence in attack? Not necessarily, but I wouldn’t mind buying him just so that he never plays against us again.
Elsewhere on The Pitch
The Hudd was generously given the freedom of White Hart Lane by the Newcastle midfield. He duly enjoyed himself, with a range of passing so sumptuous that on listening carefully I discerned that it was accompanied by the dulcet tones of angelic choruses, as if ordained by some celestial authority. This was all very wonderful, but I suspect we’ll barely notice him against Man Utd at Old Trafford next week. Still, right man for the occasion today.
It’s taken a while – the best part of a season in fact - but I have finally held up my hands, raided the AANP coffers and paid up for membership to the Assou-Ekotto fan club. I shall still eagerly monitor the Gabriel Henize rumours, but the Braided One is looking better and better each week.
Cruel luck for Dawson, having waited so long for a starting-place, but his injury opened the door for Hutton. He certainly impressed going forward, but sterner defensive tests probably await in the future. The Corluka-Hutton battle for right-back will make interesting viewing in future weeks. Personally I lean towards the Scot as a partner for Lennon on the right.
Modric – legend.
Palacios – legend.
Three more points, and well-deserved. Bravo lads, yet again. I maintain that if there is constructive criticism to be levelled it is that a second goal in such games will ensure a rather pleasanter finale, but all told this was a comfortable and well-deserved win.
As the final whistle sounded all restraint and reason duly gave up trying to make themselves heard and discreetly slunk out of the stadium. It was neither the time nor the place for that sort of behaviour. Instead it is the time for giddy over-excitement, the time to kill the fattened calf and start making our outlandish predictions about next season.
The business of getting far too carried away comes as naturally to Spurs fans as that whole inhale-exhale routine. Typically it occurs in the idle pre-season months, to the merriment of rival fans the length of the country, but this sequence of - let’s face it - title-winning form, has us all dispensing with moderation and stampeding towards unrealistic dreams of glory.
Over the last few weeks we’ve all desperately tried to restrain ourselves. The win at Hull? Limited opposition. The thrashing of Boro? Far from flawless performance.
Then things started to get out of hand, with the win against Villa. That was hugely impressive, and left us all scrabbling a little desperately for reasons not to get carried away. Deep inside we became convinced that we were showing form worthy of the top six and better, but such talk remained strictly taboo. Company policy had us all under strict orders that the only topic to be broached was that of avoiding relegation.
Ledley was the first to snap, spouting off this week about how we ought to push for the top four next season. We tutted and clucked, even though in our heart of hearts it’s what we all wanted to say.
However, now that we’ve beaten Chelski – and deservedly so - the shackles have been removed. Let’s not beat about the bush here – we’re fricking awesome! ‘Arry made a few apologetic post-match noises about not being out of the danger-zone, but no-one believed him, and I don’t think he even believed himself. Chelski are one of the teams that the big Italians and Spaniards are trying to emulate. By the old playground-conker rules, that means that we’re now the envy of Barcelona and Milan. Nine games to go, all eyes on seventh spot. The international break will now rather irritatingly disrupt our momentum, and possibly bring injuries, but we can worry about that later. There’s a warm glow at the Lane, and nothing should prevent us from basking in it.
(Reason and restraint have reappeared at AANP Towers, urgently trying to point out the folly of such excitement at one good month of results, but they have duly been gagged, and banned from the premises for trying to spoil the party).
Gold Stars All Round
Gold stars all round, but Modders will take plaudits for yesterday’s game, and quite rightly so, after another performance that had the natives purring with satisfaction. Murmurs of “Ardiles”were again audible around the Park Lane. Some players just seem born to wear the Spurs shirt, and our Luka is one of them. Work has already begun at AANP Towers on booby-trapping all the exit doors from White Hart Lane, to ensure that he does not leave in the summer.
My cap is also doffed in the general direction of Gomes. “Much-maligned” is a prefix now gathering dust, for the big man’s save from Terry was worth a goal yesterday. Back in the glorious 2005-06 season under Martin Jol (blessed be his name) I considered that, between them, Ledley and Paul Robinson did the equivalent of scoring one goal per game, through some unlikely last-ditch tackle or point-blank save. Gomes has now started doing the same. He may still grimace and wince and cry like a baby every time a flea sneezes on him, but I’ll accept that he’s a bit of a fairy if he can continue in this vein.
Oh what the hell, why not? So drunk with pleasure am I that I’ll even lavish praise upon Darren Bent. He will never look like a £16 million striker, but he worked tirelessly yesterday, in the “unsung hero” role, allowing more illustrious and talented peers to hog the headlines. It feels a bit like praising the rubbish fat kid in the school team for showing “good effort”, but Bent should just graciously accept the compliment and go back to Spurs Lodge to work on his finishing.
The bubble will burst, we’ll all be whingeing again soon enough, but for now let’s just enjoy the good times. Keep it going after the international break, and we’ll all be going on a European tour.
Our glorious leader has been quoted as saying that he’d rather fancy a crack at that England malarkey once he’s finished his business with Spurs. He sees Fabio as upping and leaving “sooner rather than later” – which presumably means that he’d be happy to exit N17 along a similar time-frame.
Some quotes, for your delectation:
For sure I would love to be England manager one day. It depends if I’m doing a good enough job at Spurs and I plan to do a good job here.
I didn’t really see myself getting that job anyway. I thought that after what happened to Steve McClaren the FA would go for a big-name foreign manager. It was inevitable.
They hired Fabio Capello and that was the right choice. Everyone can see that he has done a fantastic job.
There is no doubt Capello will move on, probably sooner rather than later. I don’t see him here forever. But I am 61 and once my job is done here I would have time left to be England manager.
If that opportunity should ever arrive - fantastic. It would mean I had taken this club forward.
First thing to point out is that this is probably just another sensationalist product of the 24-7 media machine, which is now obliged to over-analyse every throwaway comment, and dedicate time to turning molehills into steaming great big mountains. It strikes me as a bit of a non-story. I don’t know the context of ‘Arry’s words, but I presume he was given a few dozen questions after last night’s Shakhtar game, and one way or another the topic wound round to the England team. “Would you still fancy the England job?” “Does the Pope sh*t in the woods? By heck I would, you betcha.” And bingo, we have a back-page exclusive.
Presumably this will incur the wrath of the more hot-blooded down at the Lane, chuntering about “loyalty” and “contracts” and other such phrases completely alien to footballers. Personally I can do little more than raise an amused eyebrow. It’s a cynical sport, in which the only obvious loyalty is to number one. Having merrily urinated over Southampton and Pompey a couple of times, it would be no major shock if ‘Arry dumped our lot at the prospect of a bigger gig. And really, could any football fan begrudge any football manager a crack at the England job?
The only surprising element of this is the mild lack of tact. I would imagine the PR suits generally instruct football folk not to make the sort of comments that could be interpreted by the crazed masses as disloyalty to the team. Somehow, Salomon Kalou has been quoted this week as saying that it’s his dream to end up at l’Arse. No idea what he actually said, or even what language he was speaking when he said it, but it’s presumably been tweaked a little and another back-page exclusive is born.
So it’s no big shock to learn that ‘Arry still covets the England job, but he might do his prospects a world of good by knuckling down with his present employers. Before I even finish typing that sentence I can hear him bleating in my ear “We only had two points when I took over…” Yes ‘Arry, bravo. Now get us playing some snappy one-touch stuff, get us winning games against the likes of Sunderland and ‘Boro – traits we proudly exhibited just a couple of years ago – and then maybe the England job will be a bit more than fanciful paper-talk on a quiet Friday morning.
