Switching from the all-conquering, award-winning, glitz-laden superstars of our rollicking Premiership campaign to the prepubescent kids and want-away squad members on our midweek Europa jaunts is somewhat akin to putting down the Dumas novel in order to tune in to Dogtanian and the Three Muskehounds – nobody in their right mind would dispute that it remains quite magnificent entertainment, but the whole forum is perhaps a little more frivolous.Thus we march into battle tonight knowing that defeat will do all manner of nastiness to our European campaign, but victory would all but see us through. None of which can really be taken seriously when one considers the red-hot Saturday/Sunday frolics of our first-choice mob in the League.
Still. There is still a cockerel on the shirt, pride at stake and a trophy to be won, eventually. Kane, Carroll, Livermore and Townsend will get their usual opportunities to impress, while Cudicini, Corluka, Gallas, Pienaar and Pav (if fit – and if not, then presumably Defoe) will add sprinklings of élan about the place. The reverse fixture against this lot was jolly hard work, but thus far on our home nights in Europe we have muddled through, so another three points ought to be the target once again tonight. All for one, and all that continental gubbins.
Supporters’ etiquette dictates that we ought to be mightily supportive of the emergence of home-bred talent into the first team, but here at AANP Towers constructive criticism of the various whippersnappers is obscured by outrage at how unfeasibly young they all are. With their trendy haircuts and no doubt listening to music that would simply sound like noise to the bastions of AANP Towers, Townsend, Fredericks and Kane appeared to have been plucked from the fresh-faced crowds milling around collecting their GCSE results earlier in the day. As for the boy Carroll, he looked more partially-developed foetus than man. Watching these kids buzz around, all earnest verve and brio, the words of a weary Danny Glover resonated truer than ever before.On a slightly more relevant note, the younglings acquitted themselves reasonably well, although given the quality (or lack thereof) of the opposition, none of them stood at as necessarily child prodigies. Townsend and Fredericks had pace to burn on the wings, but each became a little bogged down in their little world when the time came for distributing the thing. Livermore adopted a pretty relaxed interpretation of the term “midfield enforcer” but pinged the ball around in sensible if unspectacular fashion. Carroll impressed, a nice mix of tenacity and technique, notably in the weighting and direction of his pass to create the penalty, and Kane upfront was busy and confident. Promise abounded, but all will need to improve before pushing for regular squad inclusion.
Of the older heads, Daws, Corluka, Hudd and Kranjcar at various points each demonstrated the value of experience, unfussily defusing potentially tricky situations and throwing in the occasional flash of class. Pav, by contrast, looked like he didn’t belong, and given the presence of one esteemed guest in the stands, one wonders quite how many more chances he will get to slam the ball so far from goal it heads for a throw-in.
Off-Pitch Developments
No Modders, which was a slight shame, because it would have made for particularly cruel entertainment to have watched him single-handedly run rings against the opposing mob.
Adebayor is officially a lilywhite however, albeit on a temporary basis. Every Spurs fan in Christendom has an opinion on this one, and AANP’s tuppence worth is that it is a cracking signing. As a player, we have needed him for 18 months; as a person it’s not ideal, but the cynicism of years has worn me down, and I now struggle to believe that anyone in our current squad (bar the kids, and perhaps Daws) particularly cares about the cockerel. If they are quality players and give their all I am resigned to accepting them, whoever their previous employers.
Like the Queen visiting the troops in Helmand in a symbolic gesture to bolster morale, we lilywhites need something to raise spirits, for few amongst us found anything comforting in Monday night’s debacle and gloomy faces abound. Timely then that that Hearts are pootling along the High Road to be given the run around tonight, for another gentle, if pointless, five-nil win would be timely.Alas, the chances of another drubbing are fairly remote. With the tie already settled our heroes are hardly likely to go charging out of the blocks tonight, and our starting line-up will presumably comprise a sleepy combo of those who will be rather embarrassed to be picked for such a non-event (Bassong, Pav, Bentley etc), and kids we are unlikely to see much more of before they disappear on loan (Harry Kane, Tom Carroll).
While the odds are against the likes of Kane, Andros Townsend and Jermaine Jenas cracking it at the top level, this is at least a chance for them to demonstrate that they can handle first team football. Controversially, ‘Arry has hinted that Luka Modric may even be asked to do that for which he is paid handsomely, and play for us. Any excitement tonight will presumably be generated by such sub-plots, but levity aside we at AANP Towers hope at least to see some encouraging signs for the morrow from our children of the night, as well as maintenance of a proud European record of White Hart Lane and, of course, no more blasted injuries.
Five goals away from home, five different scorers, clean sheet, no injuries (I think) and run-outs for squad members and kids alike – long may this continue. It could be that Hearts are actually awesome, and we are in fact better than Brazil 1970, but a win that comfortable inevitably points to abysmal opposition. Still, our heroes could do no more than take their opponents to the cleaners, and ‘twas duly done.Life Without Modric?
Hearts’ players looked like their brains might explode as they tried to comprehend how VDV could amble with such ease from attack to midfield and just about anywhere else he pleased. Kranjcar was afforded similar time and space, and purred away accordingly. He is a particular favourite at AANP Towers, but Hearts gave him so much space and time they managed to make him look like Maradona. Those two pulled the strings, and when Hearts rallied early in the second half, VDV was withdrawn and Hudd took over to similarly rampant effect.
A glorified training game it may have been, but it was still heart-warming to see the ball pinged first-time hither and thither by every man in lilywhite. Life won’t always be this easy - other teams migh try tackling our lot - but for 90 minutes at least it looked like our midfield had the technique and craft to cope without Modric.
Kids These Days
That young Walker at right-back has pace in abundance was already well-known, but it was good to see him looking switched on for his defensive duties as well as haring to the opposite goal-line as fast as his legs could carry him. I also particularly enjoyed seeing Andros Townsend take time out from his uncanny Lewis Hamilton impressions to provide an absolutely sumptuous pass in the build-up to our fifth, weighted to perfection, and delivered inside the run of the full-back.
Elsewhere On The Pitch
A tad irrelevant in the grand scheme of things perhaps, but most satisfactory nonetheless. More of the same on Monday night and life will be just tickety-boo.
That was just about as straightforward as could have been hoped, just about every box ticked by 3.30pm. Key personnel rested; squad members got 90 minutes; home-grown youngster made Danny Rose-esque impact on debut (fingers crossed the next few months are a bit brighter for him than for the boy Rose); clean sheet; no injuries; no suspensions; opportunity for Defoe to return to sharpness; etc. The fact that we were forced to field Luka Modric for 45 minutes, rather than give him a complete rest, mercifully turned out to be fairly inconsequential.Modders, VDV, Hudd: Unlikely to be Losing Sleep
Admittedly this nice, neat box of all-round satisfaction was looking anything but after 45 minutes, in which Sergeant Wilson and Sandro were enlisted with the job of deputising for Modders and VDV in central midfield. One can only imagine the looks of horror on their faces when this task was put to them by ‘Arry prior to kick-off, not to mention the groans of despair from Kranjcar, Townsend, Defoe and Pav, each of whom would have been hoping for a slightly more creative platform in central midfield.
Bless them, Palacios and Sandro manfully attempted to fit their square pegs of destruction into the round holes of silky technique vacated by our regular central midfielders, but it was doomed to failure, particularly with Charlton adopting an understandable game-plan of defending deep. More used to slick one-touch triangles, the Lane faithful had to make do with Palacios’ laboured, telegraphed, multiple-touch passes six yards sideways. I like the chap’s attitude, and consider that his aggression still adds an important edge to the squad, but against a defensive lower-league opponent, this was anything but the stage for his talents. Sandro for his part stuck to safer ground and contented himself with picking up what is already becoming his obligatory yellow card.
So ‘Arry took the hint, replaced Palacios with Modders, and within a blink of an eye we were cutting Charlton to ribbons.
The Next Big Young Thing
The nation’s media are never slow to wallow in hyperbole, and Andros Townsend’s debut has consequently been feted a little too affectedly in some quarters, but even when moored safely to the steady surface of perspective this was a creditable performance. He sounds intriguingly like he could be the love-child of a Greek god and a faux-Irish wonky-nosed ITV commentator, but vastly more relevantly he showed the requisite pace and enthusiasm, and also managed to marry it to a degree of common-sense when weighing up his on-ball options. Nice goal too. With Aaron Lennon flitting between sublime and anonymous young Master Townsend may yet receive further opportunities, albeit from the substitutes’ bench.
Defoe: Sprightly
Here at AANP Towers we were also quietly thrilled to see Defoe doing what he does best. His flaws have been dwelt upon long and hard in various quarters, but having someone loitering around the squad whose sole joy in life seems to be derived from scoring is jolly well handy. Treasure the following ten words as they will never, ever be spoken again about Jermain Defoe, but there was something curiously George Best-esque about his first. Both goals, and the defending that accompanied them, were reminiscent of playground football, but no matter. Defoe is firing, and in effect his return for the latter half of the season is equivalent to a new and extremely signing.
It is worth reiterating: key personnel rested, squad members getting 90 minutes, no injuries, clean sheet and so on – everything panned out just tickety-boo. A slight shame, perhaps, that we were drawn away to a Premiership side next up, but that is for another time: this was a good afternoon’s work.
A Cup quarter-final, under the floodlights and in front of a jam-packed White Hart Lane – if that doesn’t get your juices flowing my friend you’re probably better off at the Emirates. The Star Wars theme that greets the players as they amble out each week may not be everyone’s particular brand of cognac, but pre kick-off it certainly makes the hairs on the back of the AANP neck stand to attention, and by the time it blares out this evening I suspect I’ll be bouncing off the walls and ready to kill someone with my bare hands.With any luck the eleven in lilywhite will be similarly frenzied come 8pm. The omens are fairly encouraging - in our recent League double-header against Fulham we worked hard for a goalless draw on their patch, and then comfortably beat them 2-0 at the Lane barely a month later. A slice of nice meaty déjà-vu would go down nicely tonight.
Team News
Ye gods be praised, as it looks as if reinforcements are finally arriving. Hudd and Bentley might be back in contention, and even if they do not swan straight back into the starting line-up I’ll be exhaling in relief merely at the sight of them snuggling up on those comfy seats in the dug-out. While it is positive to see Livermore, Townsend et al mingling with the first team superstars, if we are hit by further injuries or even just tired legs, it will be reassuring to gaze around and behold chaps of the ilk of Bentley and Hudd stretching their multi-million pound limbs on their sidelines.
Fulham: Abusive To Old Ladies
I fancy us to win this, as do the bookies, but complacency will be banned from the premises given that Fulham dealt out a right thumping to (an admittedly ten-man) Juve last week. Form is temporary and class permanent, according to the adage, but whatever the explanation Bobby Zamora is playing like a man who has been eating his greens. He has been a handful against us on a couple of occasions already this season, and let’s face it, our lot hardly relish having to face these big burly chaps, all elbows, backsides and upper-body strength. I suspect that Sebastien Bassong earns more in a week than I do in a year, but I will happily dispense with envy tonight if he merits the full pay-packet tonight and keeps Zamora under lock and key.
These things don’t always go to plan, but if our heroes blow this opportunity I might never forgive them. It ought not to come to that. Everybody will be singing, when the Spurs go marching on.
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.
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