Spurs 1-1 Chelsea: Make Sense of That If You Will

Dashed confusing from start to finish. Two points lost or one point gained? What the devil is Gomes playing at? And what the dickens inspired BAE to perform thus?First Things First: Two Lost or One Gained? 

“Spurs’ Cult Heroes”- A Christmas Stocking-Filler

With the Christmas season upon us this seems as good a time as any to reminder ye good folk that AANP’s first book, “Spurs’ Cult Heroes” is on sale now - on Tottenhamhotspur.com, Amazon, Play and WHSmith, as well as in Waterstones and the Spurs shop.

As well as cheerily reminiscing over the Tottenham careers of 20 of the club’s most popular fans’ favourites (Greaves, Blanchflower, Hoddle, Gazza, Klinsmann and the like) the book also covers some of the most fabled traditions etched into Spurs’ history: big European nights, magic Wembley moments, exotic foreign arrivals, questionable musical offerings, dodgy mullets etc. Quite the stocking-filler for the fellow lilywhite in your life.

Twente 3-3 Spurs: And More, Much More Than This…

Admittedly it was more school playground than Champions League, but never mind that – huzzah! We won the group! And as ever, we did it the Tottenham way! Lovers of the drab and dreary on Tuesday and Wednesday nights have been swooning in horror ever since we began this merry European jaunt with that kamikaze first half in the Wankdorf Stadium against Young Boys, but they can ruddy well buckle themselves in and hold their breath, because we’ll be marching back for more in 2011. Outstanding.Tuesday night was the usual Tottenham fare – goals, the obligatory penalty, the obligatory two injuries, and yet more goals.

Our heroes decided to mark the occasion by becoming almost a parody of themselves, delivering a performance of the usual quite absurd level of action, but this time with even less plot than normal, as the concept of trying to control the game in midfield was studiously ignored. The decimation of our midfield resources meant no VDV, Hudd or Modders, and with the ever-willing Jenas also hobbling off early, poor old Niko Kranjcar was hastily shunted into the centre, to watch the game whizz by him. Indeed, so desperate has the medical plight now become, that following the selection of two substitute ‘keepers last weekend, we finished the Twente game with quite possibly the least well-equipped central midfield in our recent history: Sergeant Wilson and Robbie Keane. 

We Need A New Left Back 

Benny may be an accident waiting to happen every time he sets foot on the pitch, but he was probably a tad unfortunate with the penalty, in that his options were a little limited as the slightly messy scenario of decapitation-by-ball beckoned. No complaints on the decision though - it would be hypocrisy of rather a high order to complain on this front given that we have benefited twice from similar scenarios in recent weeks.In just about everything else he did however, BAE made rather a pickle of things. His defending for the headed Twente goal consisted of simply watching on in typically unconcerned manner as his opponent rose right next to him, and I lost count of the number of times I roared my displeasure at the screen as he paused, looked up, set himself and fired the ball 40 yards to an opponent.

Elsewhere On The Pitch

The whole concept of keeping possession was generally ignored by just about every one of heroes last night, while not for the first time Gomes was a little erratic between the sticks.

More cheerily, Jermain Defoe looked sharp. The little fella seems to have a number of detractors, who are only too happy to chastise his greed or technique or whatnot, but for his sheer bloody-minded hunger for goals I am downright thrilled to see him back, particularly with the memory of Crouch’s inept finishing of recent weeks lingering so firmly in the memory.

I

t may not have been flawless but the ends justified the means, and once it become apparent that elsewhere on the continent Inter had taken the night off, and we would top the group, the tensions was eased a tad, and we were left to concentrate on avoiding further injuries. (A task, rather inevitably, in which we spectularly failed).  With just about an entire team of players set to return in time for the knock-out stages, and a tough but by no means insurmountable list of potential opponents lined up, our Champions League future seems rather bright and beautiful.tenw

Fulham 1-2 Spurs: Well-Deserved Despite The Controversy

That’s more like it. Six points from two tricky fixtures and we now sit level on points with l’Arse and Man Utd. Admittely ours has been a fairly gentle fixture-list to date, but given our struggles to juggle Premiership and Champions League I’m quite grateful for what he have.

This Week’s VDV Magic

Having bossed games in recent weeks this was a relatively mundane showing from Van der Vaart, but when you hail from Amazingville then even your mundane showings are sprinkled with magnificence, and so it was that VDV’s quiet day still brought about the game’s best piece of skill and a game-changing moment. One-on-one with the ‘keeper from 12 yards out, most mere mortals would have closed their eyes and thumped the thing towards the corner. VDV, naturally, instead took the option marked “Genius” with a chip so impertinent it ought not to have been legal. Pav was a touch shameless in celebrating the goal that was all of VDV’s making, but credit to the Russian for being on his toes while the Fulham defenders were standing around picking their noses.

William Gallas – Not Bad For A Human

The Spurs-supporting chums with whom I watched the game spent much of the game earnestly peddling the theory that William Gallas has been sent here to destroy us, possibly by Arsene Wenger. Pointing to the fact that Gallas previously threatened to score an own-goal if Chelksi did not sell him, they now reckon that this if this mercenary with evil eyes ever does score for us he’ll rip off his Tottenham shirt to reveal an Arsenal one underneath. Grist to their mill was provided by Gallas’ decidedly average defending for the Fulham goal – diligently deciding to park himself in the middle of no-man’s land, leaving Kamara with an open goal from about six inches out. He then did his best to sabotage our winning goal too, but despite his best efforts the officials decided it would be more fun to allow it.He is actually doing a fine and dandy job for us, but my attitude towards him remains akin to that of Ripley towards Bishop in Aliens. Only when Gallas is ripped in half and then saves my life with his mangled torso will I be won round and my suspicion dissipate.

Alas, Poor Ledley

The price to pay for this week’s three points was the latest Ledley breakdown. It is tempting to chastise ‘Arry for selecting Ledley (personally I would have kept him aside for the Inter game) but it is hardly the fault of our glorious leader. Our captain’s groin is likely to twang every time he takes to the pitch, given that the poor blighter never trains. If it had not happened yesterday it might have happened in the opening minutes of Wednesday night instead.

Elsewhere On The Pitch

It is easy to forget that in the opening exchanges we almost scored one of the best goals ever. The move in question saw Hudd cheekily dink the ball into Bale, who first-time volleyed into the path of Pav, who took it on his chest and fired wide. Six inches from being a thing of majesty, it was instead a mere goal-kick. Shame that.

There were a couple of photogenic saves from Gomes; a couple of curiously inept touches from Modders; and a lively debut from Sandro. BAE’s hair looks stranger by the week, while it was lovely to see Aaron Lennon rediscovering his joie de vivre, suggesting that he may have an important role to play against Inter this week, even be it only as impact sub.For all the controversy of the winning goal, on balance of play we merited this win, 2-1 a result that reflected the balance of play. Problems remain – not least 4-5-1 without a striker who fits the system – but this was a fine afternoon’s work from our heroes.

(Back Catalogue) Spurs 4-1 Twente: Truly, Truly, All Action No Plot

Due to the horrors of the real world (new flat! new flat!), a near-lethal bout of man-flu and, most pertinently, a mightily ropey wi-fi connection, many of the AANP ramblings of recent weeks have been trapped, like the three evil types inside the glass prison in Superman 2, on a usb stick, unable to make it to the interweb. However, to ease the pain of the international break, this back-catalogue of previews and match reports will now finally see the light of day – which means that you lucky things will be able to relive all the hundred-miles-an-hour excitement of the past three weeks or so! Huzzah!

30/9/2010: Good grief. Even by our own astonishing standards this was fairly madcap stuff. As well as the five goals, three penalties, red card and various refereeing controversies (thought all three were pens myself, but mine is perhaps not the most objective view) this was also the first game I can recall in which a team has won 4-1 while looking throughout like they might just blow it.

You lot of course are well familiar with the all-action-no-plot mentality, and our heroes’ allergy to the dull and boring nil-nil draw, but with THFC circa 2010  now being given the stage of the Champions League it is a rather cheery thought that all across Europe a whole new audience rub their eyes in disbelief at the madness of N17.

ATTACK!!!

Previous CL escapades have seen the sages queuing up to chide ‘Arry for not adopting a conservative approach on our away days, but this time, with home advantage and an urgent need for three points, he went with good old-fashioned, gung-ho 4-4-2. In fact, the carefully thought-out game plan of “attack, attack and bloody well attack some more” saw just about everyone in lilywhite, including Bassong and King, charging forward towards the Twente goal at one point or another.

The task was a lot trickier than might have been envisaged though, our vanquished opponents doing their damnedest to nip in the bud our fluidity. Not sure whether it was a result of this stifling, or a pre-ordained plan, but in the first half in particular young Master Bale appeared to be under orders to hang early, high crosses up in the area for Crouch to gorge upon. Not really an approach of which I’m particularly enamoured, but it brought about both the missed penalty and our opening goal, so I guess I ought keep quiet and be grateful for what we have.

Jekyll Hudd

If there was an occasional, unedifying tendency to sling high balls Crouch-wards in the first hour or so, I can only stand back and applaud the manner in which we adapted after VDV’s red card and the subsequent withdrawal of Crouch. The prospect of seeing out half an hour a man down – our finest man at that – with a narrow (2-1) lead, and against feisty opposition, had a whole army of butterflies hurtling around the stomach, but by golly our heroes did a grand job. The absence of Crouch removed the urge to go long, and instead, with a maturity I had dared not dream they possessed, our lot played keep-ball, looking for all the world like they were a man up rather than down. Hudd positively revelled in the situation, demanding the responsibility of string-puller-in-chief, and prompting a surge of paternal pride at AANP Towers, where we recalled with misty eyes those days of yore when we flung up our hands, called him fat and despaired that he would never make the grade.

Hyde Hudd

It should probably be noted that Hudd can also consider himself a lucky boy for remaining on the pitch, for while I am do not think he actually realised he was about to wallop that blighter in the head, I think it is fair to say that The Flailing Elbow is an art-from rarely looked upon with kindness by officials. His demeanour (“Contorted Rage”), was also rather a picture, and may well be invoked when those heroes in blazers at UEFA mete out their retrospective punishments.

Jekyll, Hyde, All Action, No Plot - Van Der Vaart Had The Whole Blinking Lot

Column inches aplenty for VDV, a player who has taken to the all-action approach like a duck to water. A player of his age and experience ought to have known better than to have gone hurtling in to his yellow card challenges, but it is difficult to begrudge a man who is so determined to be at the hub of activity, and who adds so much quality. His first half volleys were sumptuous, oozing technique, and he then made a difficult goal look fairly straightforward. Lovely to see such difficult skills come so naturally to a player in lilywhite, and heart-warming too that we have in our ranks a midfielder in whom the urge to shoot is always prominent.

Bale: Now Showing Too Much Quality

Bale did what Bale does, after a heart-in-mouth moment in the first half when he appeared to fall victim to an x-rated challenge from the advertising hoardings. Wondrous stuff as always from the handsome young Welshman, except that now every time he gallops 50 yard, roasts half the opposition team and plonks the ball into the net, I glance nervously over my shoulder for the sight of Alex Ferguson marching up the High Road, cheque-book in hand. Someone tell young Gareth to tone done the quality and lie low for a while.

Elsewhere on the Pitch

Gomes’ one-handed save ought not to be overlooked; Modders was mightily effective in a supporting role, keeping things ticking over without ever really dipping into his box of attacking tricks; Ledley, as ever, looked majestic.

Two forthcoming games against Inter, while Twente and Werder Bremen squabble amongst themselves, might tip the group table upside down, but four points from two games, home and away, is the start for which we had all hoped, while the entertainment value has flown right off the scale. Nobody does all action no plot like Tottenham.

Spurs – Twente Preview

29/9/2010: The unspoken agreement in place seems to be that Premiership points can be traded off for rip-snorting Champions League performances. (I call it an “agreement”, but this does rather seem to have been imposed upon us fans by the players, without any option. Such is life). It is therefore time for our heroes to stick to their side of the bargain. If they want to amble around the pitch while Premiership minnows sneak off with the spoils, then they had jolly well better repay us – starting tonight. Insouciantly chucking away the two-goal lead in Bremen was acceptable, because apparently a point away from home in the Champions League is allowed, but any similar nonsense at home tonight would leave us with an awkward few evenings in store.

Last season we set a healthy precedent of turning floodlit games at the Lane into glory glory nights worthy of club shop DVDs, so the template is in place. A high-octane start, an early goal or two, a throbbing Lane audience – we all know the drill. Time for our lot to make names for themselves.

Werder Bremen 2-2 Spurs: Backing ‘Arry’s All-Action Approach

Take that, Champions League. Cagey away teams? Ten men behind the ball? Sheer gubbins, cried the merry men of White Hart Lane. We did it the Tottenham way, and while some will probably berate ‘Arry for not adopting a more conservative approach, particularly when two goals ahead, I revelled almost drunkenly in our insistence upon flying forward at every given opportunity. Some – nay, many – will lambast our approach as naive, but I was chuffed to my core to witness a Tottenham side deciding against sitting upon an early lead, and instead looking to stretch further and further ahead, playing some absolutely coruscating one-touch football in the process. Our lot looked more psyched than they have done since – well, since the last Champions League game, and were ruddy well worth a two-gola first half lead.

Point of note: we were actually cruising until we actually conceded. Our advantage was by no means reduced because of capitulation to opposition pressure – in fact Carlo Cudicini barely needed to break sweat, beyond thumping the odd back-pass upfield. Trouble only reared its head when Benny Assou-Ekotto delivered a clearance so wild, needless and bizarrely backward that it prompted the chap sitting next to me to proclaim that it was part of a betting scam. From a situation of no danger whatsoever we conceded a throw, from which Bremen scored, and about 43 minutes of cracking first half work was instantly undone. Curses.

Van der Vaart: AANP Favourite

But what cracking first half work it was. Blinking heck. In our first ever official Champions League game Rafael van der Vaart demonstrated all his top-level nous, and played like a man possessed, without any of the rabid insanity. All composed passing and intelligent vision, the mildly cross-eyed Dutch genius coolly bossed the game. And we absolutely rocked. Aaron Lennon was again strangely subdued, despite going eyeball-to-eyeball with the deeply old and slow Mikael Silvestre, but everyone else with an attacking bent handily brought along their A-game.

Par example: it always pains me to say it, but – in the first half at least – Jermaine Jenas was mightily impressive. In fact, I even made a note of the first time I noticed him play a backwards pass: 62 mins, 51 seconds. Until then he buzzed with positive intent and first-time distribution, and his volley to create the second goal was particularly impressive. The Hudd provided a good deep-lying outlet; Kaboul played with aggressive intent at the back; everything was chugging along just tickety-boo. The concession of goals and removal of VDV ruined things, but the first half provided plenty of cause for encouragement, and had me musing that the additions of Modders, Gomes, Daws and Defoe would turn us into a cracking little CL outfit.

Elsewhere On The Pitch…

The AANP theory on Peter Crouch is that the novelty has worn off domestically, so that every Premiership defence feels relatively at ease in formulating a plan to deal with him; but continental opposition, either at club or country level, are inclined to defecate in their shorts at the sight of him, all pointy and long, stumbling towards them like a gargantuan grasshopper. Whatever the reason, Bremen struggled to get to grips with the blighter and he led the line jolly well, holding it up, laying it off as appropriate and taking his goal well. (Didn’t stop me cursing his entire family when he messed up that late chance though.)

I have begun to speculate that everything positive that occurs in the universe is prompted by Gareth Bale, and this near-faultless notion was corroborated by his performance, with the cross for the first goal demonstrating the value of whipping a cross into a dangerous area, rather than trying to pick out a particular chum. Aaron Lennon take note. By contrast, too many bad things happen when BAE gets hold of the ball, and he and Corluka look too much like the weak links in our line-up.

The goals either side of the interval damn well knocked the wind from our sails, and the absence of Mr VDV certainly did not aid matters, as the ball morphed from cuddly pet cherished by all to hot potato feared by every man and his dog, but in the final analysis a point away from home is no mean feat in the Champions League. I don’t doubt that many will demand the rolling of heads, and insist that a more conservative approach is required on European away days, but around these parts the cockles are warmed by the sight of a Tottenham team gamely taking every opportunity to attack, and pinging the ball around in confident one-touch style. I considered that in the first half, even though the away team, we did the right thing in taking the game to Bremen, and had we made it to half-time with a clean sheet we might have returned with three points rather than one. I for one would be a mite disappointed if we abandoned this attack-minded philosophy in favour of defending for a nil-nil, counter-attacking style from first minute to last – but to each their own.

Werder Bremen - Spurs Preview: An Awesome 5-A-Side Team

Even observing from across the Atlantic, AANP is well aware of the worrying signs that, for all the cheer and merriment created by our Champions League qualification, our heroes are doing a dashed good impression of a pack of mutts who have bitten off more than they can chew. I’m not quite sure how tiredness can be a factor so early in the season, particularly as many of the players had an international break, but there has been a sluggishness to our recent league form, and the forthcoming glut of CL games is unlikely to freshen up any of our heroes.

Still, we can worry about all that on Saturday. Playing in the Champions League cures all known ills, and there is probably no better way to drag the players out of their stupor than to parade them in the front of the cameras to the soundtrack of the CL theme tune and 36,000 braying lilywhites in the stands.

4-4-1-1 Again. Huzzah!

“Da more I interact with humans, da more I learn.”

So drawled Arnie in Terminator 2, undoubtedly the greatest film ever to grace the AANP Towers cinema reel, and our very own glorious leader is demonstrating a similar capacity to modify his behaviour in reaction to external circumstances. In such a manner was the 4-4-1-1 birthed, and as our heroes will be gambolling across foreign soil today, the designated away formation will be unleashed upon an unsuspecting world once again. After Saturday’s periodically abysmal draw at West Brom confidence will be sky high amongst ‘Arry, Joe Jordan and chums that 4-4-1-1 will make us kings of Europe, and providing that Werder Bremen are no better than the WBA we should be absolutely fine.

Alas, our absentee list would make quite some 5-a-side team, with Gomes, Daws, Defoe and potentially Modders all staring forlornly from the sidelines, but the prospect of Ledley returning to the fold always soothes the savage beasts here at AANP Towers.

The addition of van der Vaart to our ranks reinforces the notion that our side is positively teeming with potential match-winners, and between them I fancy Bale, Kranjcar, Lennon, VDV, Hudd , Pav et al to grab a goal or two. However, this is no ordinary club competition, this is the Champions League – and with such power comes great responsibility, particularly at the back, where dubious defensive lapses will be magnified and punished. A point would represent a fine night’s work – on present form dare we hope for even more?

Spurs - Wigan Preview: Same Again?

And so, slightly dizzying, we head straight back to the Premiership. It seems like it was only yesterday we gathered around the wireless to listen to the Champions League draw, with the breathless excitement of children on Christmas morn. From Inter to Wigan in the blink of an eye. ‘Tis a lifestyle to which we will have to become accustomed fairly rapidly.

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There was something vaguely memorable about Wigan’s last trip to the Lane, and memories of that heady November evening, combined with two early-season thrashings, suggest that our visitors may approach this fixture with a fair degree of trepidation. However, I would quite happily settle for a 1-0 win this time, our heroes having put an awful lot into their midweek jaunt.

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Time for all and sundry to murmur knowingly about “squad depth” again, and opportunity therefore potentially knocks for the likes of Kaboul, Bassong, Jenas, Kranjcar, Gio, Pav and Keane, while beady eyes will presumably need to be cast over the fitness of Gomes and Modders. Saturday also heralds a potential debut for William Gallas, and having already offered my tuppence worth on his signing last week I am now quite curious as to what sort of reception he receives at the Lane.

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Alas, I will need to be informed of this and all other developments via furtive text messages while I nod and smile appropriately in church, as AANP is donning its suit to head to a wedding this weekend. Do keep me posted won’t you?

Spurs 4-0 Young Boys: Bring On The Big Boys

Well the prophets of doom can stick that in their pipes and smoke it. Admittedly it was not exactly vintage, one-touch, rapier-like Tottenham, but then that was understandable enough - in defence of our heroes, I think if I had simply to catch a bus for £20 million I might be a little more cautious than normal. Still, while it may have lacked panache in places the performance oozed professionalism, efficiency and good old-fashioned, red-blooded desire from the off.  Only one Spurs team in history has competed in Europe’s elite club competition before this season, so our heroes deserve all the accolades heaped upon them, both for last season’s efforts and the thorough negotiation of last night’s potential banana-skin.

There are a handful of phrases by which we live here at AANP Towers. You know the sort, essential pearls of wisdom fashioned by time itself.  “Women – can’t live with them, can’t kill them,” and suchlike, but another such bon mot is “By jiminy, thank goodness for that early goal, ought to steady the nerves, what? (Let’s hope we don’t now sit back and invite trouble)”. And lo and behold, when Bale lobbed one in, Crouch stooped, we had ourselves the early goal and all was right with the world. I’ll never know, but I often stroke the whiskers in contemplation of what it would be like to be a good citizen of Tottenham, idly minding his own fare and wandering along the High Road at the exact moment that a goal of such magnitude is scored, and it sounds for all intents and purposes like the sky is collapsing in on itself. The perfect start, at which instant White Hart Lane became so excited it pretty much went ‘bang’ in a puff of smoke.

Life Minus Modders

Back on the green stuff (au naturale, rather than the dastardly tenth-generation macrofibres, or whatever the deuces they used out in the Wankdorf Stadium) we controlled the game in a very careful fashion. To his credit, from first whistle to last Sergeant Wilson bore his fangs like an illegally-bred fighting mutt, and this midfield bite was welcome, our heroes following his lead and pressing the Young Boys (if you pardon the phrase) high up the pitch. However, the deficiency of a midfield bereft of Modders was evident. Hudd’s passing, long and short, is joyous to behold, but neither he nor Palacios are the type to run with the ball from the centre. As a result there was a slight dearth of central creativity, and several symptoms of Crouch-itis in the team, as a number of long-balls were launched up to the gangly one (although he did a topping job of shielding the thing like a new-born babe while it was conveyed from heavens to turf), while the heart always thumps upwards against the mouth around these parts when we play those square balls across that 10-yard space just in front of our back-four. This, however, is somewhat hypercritical, for in truth, in the game of their lives our heroes were barely threatened.

Young Boys for their part adopted some curious tactics – leaving the 6’ 7” striker unmarked at corners, time-wasting when trailing 2-0, etc. I was going to commend their right-back for doing a generally sound job on Bale, in not allowing the handsome young Welshman unrestricted access throughout to the yawning wide expanses of greenery in that particular corner of the Lane – until it dawned on me that His Royal Baleness actually provided the assists for all four goals, and got the right-back sent off. And that on what, for Bale, was a relatively quiet day. For all their attacking prowess last week, Young Boys, even when 3-0 up, looked porous at the back last week, and having excelled themselves on home turf they were no match for us this time. Pot Three awaits.

Negatives

For a start, I lost my delightful, gleaming Tottenham Hotspur flag within about 30 seconds of kick-off, trampled into the dirt several rows in front of me. Of arguably equal importance on such a momentous night, Gomes hobbled off halfway through. Some need to be mown down by an Uzi before signalling for treatment; our loveable net-minder is not of that near-invincible breed. Should a butterfly sneeze in his direction Gomes signals to the bench for Florence Nightingale and 24-hour care, so when he winced and limped his way to the dressing-room at half-time I raised an eyebrow in scepticism. Time shall tell I guess, but back in the day I suspect that Gomes had a leading – and non-lupine - role in his school production of ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf’.

Also disappointed in the boy Defoe. Bluntly, he cheated. Admittedly he had the good grace to look long, hard and incredulously at each of the numerous officials before celebrating, but I don’t like to see Spurs players deliberately breaking the rules to gain an advantage. Mind you, his curious natterings about “destiny” beforehand now seem to make a bit more sense.

However, irrespective of the officials’ call, his finish was classic Defoe. If he does require surgery, it will do him the world of good to have such a clinical finish under his belt while he twiddles his thumbs and heals.

Elsewhere On The Pitch

After last week Young Boys evidently thought that BAE was the susceptible heel within our mighty Achilles, but the headbanded one brought his A-game and did not allow them a sniff. Dawson also banished the memories of last week with an imperious display, while Hudd purred his way through the game.

Que Sera Sera, Whatever Will Be Will Be

And so to the future. ‘Arry has hinted that he has no intention of dipping into his humungous new transfer kitty, but I have my fingers firmly crossed that this is fabrication of the highest order. Now that our participation is guaranteed we are running a Mission Impossible-esque race against the clock before the transfer window is closed, bolted and has curtains pulled across it for good measure. With Gallas on board I’m not sure a centre-back is still a priority, but a top-notch striker, capable of leading the line in vacuo would be mighty handy.

The draw for the much-vaunted Group Stages also awaits, and for some reason our non-existent Champions League pedigree lands us in the third of four pots. So be it. Some are hoping to avoid the big guns and thereby ease our passage to the next phase, but here at AANP Towers we are fervently beseeching the clueless UEFA suits to hand us the cream of Europe so that we can welcome to the Lane the finest kickers of a pig’s bladder currently roving the planet. Any one or two from Barca, Milan, Inter or Real would be just dandy. Because that is the company we can now keep.

Stoke 1-2 Spurs: Gareth Bale Gets The Alan Partridge Treatment

Once upon a time a trip to Stoke with a depleted team would have been the cue for our lot to step back, usher in the opposition and direct them towards a three-point haul with minimal fuss. Now, however, it seems our heroes have steel, and backbone, and other clichéd, macho-sounding adjectives. They have evolved into footballing vertebrates, who stomp around the dressing-room pre kick-off making clenched fists and shouting “Grrr”. There was evidence aplenty of this trait last season, when we turned the away win into something of an art-form, but I had worried over the summer that that would prove an anomaly, for our soft underbelly had been nurtured over several years, and such old habits die hard.

How marvellous then to behold the return yesterday of squad depth and a determination not to roll over and die. Had we lost yesterday, or even conceded a late equaliser, there would have been plenty of fairly valid excuses, not least injuries and the rigours of our midweek European game. Yet despite these we instead dug in, and while we certainly rode our luck at times the win can nevertheless be considered ruddy well-earned. Forget about slick passing triangles, and glorious derby wins at the Lane – come the end of the season in order to push for fourth again we will need a great big sack of points from scrappy away days such as this, when a decimated squad faces an Alamo-style barrage.

4-5-1 and Jermaine Jenas

The backs-to-the-wall finale means that this probably deserves to be filed under the “Winning Ugly” column, but we did also churn out some eye-pleasing stuff in the first half, as exemplified by the build-up to both goals. With Crouch on his own in attack the success of our 4-5-1 depended on Lennon and Bale attacking the area, and Jenas making the occasional lollop forward in support. In the first half in particular this approach met with a degree of success, which leads me to doff my cap in the direction of J. Jenas Esquire, as tends to happen approximately once every sixth months.

With the platform of Hudd and Sergeant Wilson behind him he adopted an unusually proactive approach, eschewing the traditional urge to turn around pass backwards and instead venturing on the odd gallop towards the Stoke goal. Indeed his dash into the area just before half-time was vaguely Lampard-esque (and had he been more clinical it might have brought him a goal). I would still sell him off in the blink of an eye, but with five attacking types out injured, he served his purpose as a squad-player yesterday.

Hits And Misses From Gomes

Not entirely to which genre the performance of Heurelho Gomes belongs. The stretchy Brazilian got himself in a right pickle for the Stoke goal, made a similar mess of things from a second half corner (from which Tuncay really ought to have scored) and generally veered perilously close to becoming that butter-fingered doppelganger who flapped and spilt his way through his first few months in English football. However, aside from the set-piece mishaps he actually saved our bacon more than once, with a cracking tip-over-the-bar from a Tuncay lob, as well as a low reflex save from Fuller. A happy ending means it is all smiles, but a return to the wobbly days of yore would be unwelcome.

Bale’s Volley: Sometimes A Commentator Nails The Moment

And so to the boy Bale. His first may have been a tad unorthodox, but his second deserves to be turned into a big-budget Hollywood production. Multiple viewings have left me drooling at the technique - and actually wincing at quite how high he raises his left leg - but the first-time, real-time viewing of it stunned me for the audacity he showed in even attempting such nonsense. Hark thee back to Alan Partridge’s football commentary, from back in the day (just here, specifically around 0.50), and the rather apt exclamation on seeing one particularly eye-catching goal of: “Shit! Did you see that?” Quite the mot juste for anyone witnessing Bale’s latest. My goodness the boy still needs to work on his celebrations though.

For all the late controversy, broadly speaking it was a pleasingly determined defensive effort, while up the other end we can be grateful to have in our ranks forwards capable of producing the odd moment of match-winning quality. Glad to have ticked “Stoke, away” off the fixture-list. Onwards.

Young Boys - Spurs Preview: Enjoy The Moment

Ah, Champions League Tuesday. I could get used to this…Admittedly it’s only the qualifier, but this is still Europe’s premier club competition. That music still blares out at the start, and the nifty, starry football logo is still sewn into the shirt sleeves. After all these years of hurt it feels like Moses finally making it to the promised land (if the Israel of biblical times were full of the best footballers in the world, and plastered with obscenely-priced advertising hoardings, and admittedly if Moses hadn’t died just beforehand).

Sunny Optimism