And now for something completely different. At third (and, later fourth) round stage the FA Cup hardly constitutes fixture congestion, so the question of where it stands in our list of priorities can probably be deferred to another day.Bingo cards out then, as we look to cross off the names of various squad members last season posing merrily in the club photocall back in August. Participation from Bentley seems unlikely, as a loan to Birmingham looms, while the current status of Robbie Keane is best summed up by a big fat question mark, but Cudicini, Corluka, Bassong, Sandro, Kranjcar and Pav are amongst the candidates for promotion. Crikey - as reserves go that particular mob are a jolly competent bunch, representing probably the strongest substitutes’ bench in the country. In theory then making half a dozen changes ought not to be catastrophically detrimental to our quality, but be warned all ye purveyors of complacency, for the memory still lingers a little painfully of our much-changed line-up putting in a blisteringly ordinary display at home to l’Arse in the Carling Cup a few months back.
Modders, VDV, Bale (and Hudd) – Can We Manage Without The Lot of Them?
A strong case could be made for excusing from duty Messrs Modders, VDV and Bale this weekend. Admittedly they all had a break before Christmas, when they picked up their wages for hurling snowballs rather than chasing footballs. Nevertheless, this is shaping up to be a long old season, and as well four games in the last couple of weeks, Bale has played just about every League and European match this season. The whippersnapper does appear darned well indefatigable, but it would be a slightly pointless experiment to grind game after game out of him, just in order to see how long it would be before he breaks down completely and turns to dust. Moreover, his back problem in midweek suggests a further reason to give him a breather.
VDV is a fragile little lamb, bless, who rarely completes 90 minutes at the best of times, Modders is another from whom we like to wring every last drop of energy during the League and European campaigns. Conclusion? Drop the lot of them.
However, while the medical arguments probably point towards resting these leading lights, I do fret that a midfield shorn of VDV and Modders, as well as Hudd, would be a few cans short of a six-pack when it comes to bossing, creating and generally playing that slick brand of attacking football to which we have become so accustomed over the last couple of seasons. Jenas and Sergeant Wilson between them do a decent job of slotting in alongside the regulars, but the prospect of these two and Sandro taking charge of affairs hardly leaves my gasping fro breath in excitement.
The Niko Kranjcar Fan Club
This could also be a big day for Niko Kranjcar, who effortlessly earned himself status as a firm favourite at AANP Towers last season, but who has been limited to a couple of completely impotent substitute appearances this season. Noises have been made at various points about him pootling off to pastures new, but his career in lilywhite is not necessarily irretrievable, for the efforts of Bale and Hutton over the last 12 months have illustrated that it is quite possible for a couple of strong cameos to earn a player a regular berth at Spurs, such are the vagaries of circumstance and fickleness of our glorious leader.
All things considered, our mob, reserves and all, ought to be strong enough for any time featuring an aged Gary Doherty. After the disappointment of midweek let’s just have a nice, serene injury/suspension-free cruise into the fourth round.
Around ten days ago I mused that I would have settled for eight points from our four Christmas-New Year games. Three games in and we already have nine, which means that the riotously good fun continues into 2011 – still not yet out of the title race, most definitely still in the Top Four race and looking down upon the rotters from Stamford Bridge, languishing beneath us. Glorious fun.Squad Rotation: Not Welcome At The Lane
I do furrow my brow in contemplation of another possible side-effect, namely that playing the same blighters on a twice-weekly basis will imminently lead to the pinging of a hamstring, or some similarly vital body-part, of someone dashed important. I cannot remember the last time Bale was omitted, while Modders is another who seems to get 90 minutes every time. Admittedly it is not exactly a medical opinion, but I suspect that the practice of non-rotation might have been a contributory factor in Hutton’s injury last weekend, while there was a mild air of sluggishness about everyone in lilywhite during the Fulham win on Saturday.
However the rather compelling counter-argument to all this is that if the likes of Bale and Modric are fit we might as well reap the benefits. When key personnel do get injured/suspended (eg VDV, Hudd, Defoe, the massed ranks of centre-backs) the other chaps simply roll up their sleeves and cope, and moreover, there might be a mini-riot in the Park Lane if Bale were left out one week. ‘Arry seems to have stumbled upon the occasional right call during his time at the helm, so perhaps it would be best if I piped down at this point and left him to get on with things.
Team News
Flabbergastingly enough we have a jolly good chance to record a third consecutive clean-sheet. While one must never discount the possibility that Gomes will briefly and without any warning completely lose the plot and go rugby-tackling the nearest opponent in the penalty area, the return of the marvellous Daws has stiffened up things no end at the back. On top of this Everton’s strikers are currently being investigated under the Trade Descriptions Act, and my Fantasy League dealings have alerted me to the fact that their principal goalscoring threat, Tim Cahill, is so embarrassed about his countrymen’s surrender of the Ashes that he has scarpered the country under the spurious claim of playing in something called the Asian Cup.
Everton away is traditionally a tricky one, but they appear to be having a rough time of things this season so presumably we will adopt our usual cagey away mentality and go all guns blazing for another three points.
Blinking heck, that was dashed hard work – to which end our vanquished opponents deserve credit, while we can also direct sneers of ill-disguised derision at those fools who suggested beforehand that while there is no such thing as an easy game in the Premiership, if there were then Fulham at home would probably be it. Ahem.That Old Chestnut
In recent weeks I fear that I have begun sounding like a broken record, with tales of impeccable technique and pretty triangles, but this was a performance cut from different cloth, our heroes emerging with bruised shins and dirt beneath the fingernails. While we would all prefer a champagne football performance, such gritty wins as this, with players flinging themselves at full-length to block opposition shots as the clock ticks down, are a necessary evil as we trundle towards a Top Four berth. Observers across the nation have wasted little time in trotting out that predictable line about winning while playing poorly being the sign of a title-winning team, although we would probably be getting a little ahead of ourselves if we began indulging in such maxims just yet.
Opportunity Knocks
The medical boffins at AANP Towers are working around the clock to diagnose Alan Hutton’s untimely malady, but his departure signalled the return to the fold of Vedran Corluka. Hutton strikes me as the type who would react to bad news by smashing a whisky bottle over the head of the messenger, so I rather hope he is not perusing these pages, but history under ‘Arry suggests that once one man departs the starting XI his replacement wastes little time in leaping into the vacant spot and in the process just about removing from history any trace of the existence of his predecessor. It is a ruthlessness to which Messrs Bentley, Kranjcar, Keane and indeed Corluka himself can attest, so should Hutton’s injury prove lengthy he may struggle to return to the team. But I darned well won’t be the one to break the new to the Scot.
Admittedly I am not the biggest fan of the lumbering Croat (as previously expounded, my personal preference at right-back would be Younes Kaboul), but given the circumstances Corluka’s strength and positioning nous proved mightily useful in helping to stiffen up things at the back. Moreover, we were also treated to a couple of those sumptuous little diagonal passes inside the full-back for Lennon to run onto, passes so beautifully weighted they were worthy of Modders or VDV. A vastly different proposition from Hutton, but Corluka certainly has his uses.
Lennon’s Final Ball
There are few more exhilarating sights in Christendom than seeing Aaron Lennon go flying over halfway in a blur of legs, leading a Tottenham counter-attack, but when he had the chance to settle the nerves and score a second he chose the wrong option this afternoon. Indeed, in the first half too he picked the wrong option when free in the penalty area with time to pick out a lilywhite chum.
Beckham: The AANP Verdict
C’est la vie, but some have suggested that this distributory aspect of Lennon’s game might benefit from the wisdom that might be imparted by a certain D. Beckham Esquire. AANP is not in the habit of passing comment on speculation, but as this whisper is fast snowballing towards fact it probably merits half a moment’s thought. In a nutshell I like the idea, primarily for what might be termed the Eidur Gudjohnsen Effect.
Brought in on loan last January, Gudjohnsen made the occasional, pretty handy, contribution on the pitch, notably in retaining possession when leads needed protecting. Perhaps just as importantly however he also added experience to the side as we closed in on a first Top Four finish. If Beckham can add this, plus the fabled off-pitch contributions on the training ground and the like, he would be a worthy addition. Not sure about him as a like-for-like right-wing understudy for Lennon – it would make more sense to deploy him as a possession-cherishing centre-midfielder, in the Huddlestone mould – but whatever the minutiae, the idea appeals.
Satisfactory Stuff
A slight shame that all the other title-chasers won, but three wins in a week is cracking stuff. Having ploughed through the previous two games with ten men it is understandable that our heroes were not at their slick best, and given these circumstances grinding out yet another win is most satisfactory.
What-ho ho ho! All I wanted for Christmas was the return to a full fitness of a top-notch midfielder – and lo, the good Santa provideth. VDV is back, the baby Jesus be praised, and the rather enticing prospect now looms of him lining up behind Defoe. Topping stuff I’m sure you will agree, unless you are a Villa fan stumbling confusedly across this little corner of interweb (in which case – seasons greetings!).In fact, from the ashes of the injury-decimated first half of the season there now rises a phoenix that probably is only one Huddlestone and a Ledley short of being our first choice XI. Marvellous stuff.
As it happens,
the impromptu Christmas break has allowed quite a few wounds to heal, meaning that, Kaboul, Jenas and Kranjcar are also now straining at the leash ahead of kick-off today. The return of VDV is by far the glitziest, most sparkly news, but in a more understated sort of way we at AANP Towers have poured a cheeky whisky and toasted the news of Kaboul’s return. We are certainly reaping the benefits of ‘Arry’s masterstroke of employing seven central defenders, as yet again we go into a game with two of them fully fit.
The wonders of the fixture-list mean that there are about a million points up for grabs in the next few days and Villa, Newcastle, Fulham and Everton in theory represent four winnable games. The good men and women of the dedicated Tottenham Hotspur A&E Ward should probably also brace themselvs, for while four games in a week present all sorts of wondrous points possibilities, they do threaten to decimate the entire squad and leave the Spurs Lodge a blood-soaked mess of limbs come early-January.Pushing into 2011 unscathed on the injury front, and with seven or eight points in the bag would represent a success. The fun and frolics begin this evening, and on both sides’ current form a trip to Villa Park represents a chance for us to target three points rather than one.
How surreal. If there were a worry prior to kick-off it was that following the euphoria of Saturday our heroes might be a little too complacent, and simply stroll through this one. And in truth, they were indeed a tad complacent and most certainly did stroll through – yet it was of little consequence. Can anyone remember a match of such magnitude being so mind-bogglingly easy for Spurs?Bremen: Awful
It made no sense, but then very little did last night. To see Spurs cruising through in such untroubled fashion was almost ineffably peculiar, and the attitude of the Germans simply added to the confusion. Only if the heavens had opened and the players been soaked to the skin could Bremen have looked more forlorn and less motivated. (Although that blonde attacking chap did a good Modric impression throughout.)
A strange old evening for sure. There have not been too many occasions on which I have lamented the fact that Jenas has been forced to depart early, yet he has been in relatively steady form in recent weeks and made an eye-catchingly positive start last night, so I rather felt for the chap when he limped off. Moreover, with Hudd off radar for a few months we can ill-afford to lose another central midfielder for any length of time.
That said, this was one of the best days Sergeant Wilson has had in months. Every tackle seemed perfectly-executed, and (almost) every pass distributed simply and accurately. Further curiosity was to be had in the serenading of William Gallas with the strains of “Yiddo! Yiddo!”, as he effortlessly outmuscled the German mob. In so many respect things are a-changing at the Lane these days.
The Cream of a Mighty Impressive Crop
That said, it was the usual scintillating stuff from young Master Bale, who added a Cruyff-turn to his super-human repertoire. Personally I am convinced that he was actually aiming for the cross-bar with that second-half free-kick, for the very best players set themselves those sorts of challenges, and as for the penalty – well, like forearm tattoos and the pre-match huddle, missing from the spot is just a trend amongst the current crop of heroes in lilywhite. It will pass.
Crouch’s Grinning Visage
And while I’m grumbling, perhaps this is a good opportunity to draw attention to the manner in which my heart-rate quickens whenever Benny Assou-Ekotto goes near the ball. He is not a particularly bad player, simply maddeningly lackadaisical about just about everything he does. I’m not sure there has ever been another Spurs player at whom I so constantly want to bellow “CONCENTRATE, you loon,” as he attempts shoulder-dinks and the like on the edge of his own penalty area, whilst working assiduously to pick out opposition players with every pass.
Strange Times at White Hart Lane
All things considered however this was probably as serene a Tottenham victory as I can remember. It may not prove the most thrilling of our commemorative DVDs, but it is probably worth purchasing simply for the variety of rare bonus features thrown in – a clean sheet, a sprightly Aaron Lennon, a Kranjcar cameo and, taken in its entirety, a Tottenham performance that was just about the epitome of professionalism. Admittedly Bremen were woeful, but we threw away a two-goal lead against them before, and conceding at any point until we scored our third (the 80th minute) would have made for a nervy finish. Instead we were dominant and efficient from start to finish – I frankly cannot remember the last time I ever saw that from Spurs. Whatever next?
It has been so much fun watching l’Arse fall apart at the seams over the last few days that I had almost forgotten we have our latest Biggest Game In Recent Memory tonight. Victory tonight would guarantee qualification to the knock-out stage of all things, and another chance for ‘Arry to shoehorn a mention of “Two-Points-Eight-Games” into his post-match press rounds. Of course in theory if things go awry on the pitch tonight - and off-pitch in the coming months - it could actually be White Hart Lane’s last ever Champions League night, which is a slightly gloomy thought. That really is a worst-case scenario however, for it seems far likelier that one way or t’other we will be reconvening in the spring for more of this floodlit revelry.These continue to be heady times for the Band-Aid manufacturers of N17, as Bale, VDV and Kranjcar are the latest injury doubts. In fact the curse of wearing a Spurs shirt and promptly collapsing in a bloodied, mangled heap has even reached AANP Towers (broken foot in Monday’s 5-a-side, since you ask). As it happens, on paper at least our team retains a look of some adequacy, for 12 months ago we would have fancied our chances with Lennon – Jenas – Palacios – Modric lining up across the midfeld. Moreover Defoe is back, looking sharp and sprightly, and now having added Aerial Bohemoth to his list of attributes, judging by his performance on Saturday. This being the Champions League, and they being foreign opposition, tonight ought also to see the transformation once again of Peter Crouch from gangly halfwit whose only value is in assisting defensively at set-pieces, to unplayable goalscoring machine who leaves opposition defenders gibbering in awe, unable to fathom which limb they should approach first.
Apparently Bremen’s recent form has been of the variety to leave their fans rushing for the nearest high ledge off which to hurl themselves, but if they are in the Champions League they can pack a punch, and in the second half in Germany they made us all sweat. No doubt they will come armed with some sort of stifling, hard-working game-plan, and if we really are minus both Bale and VDV, as well as Hudd, our attacking prowess might be a little more laboured than that to which we are accustomed.
Nevertheless, Champions League nights at the Lane have so far tended to result in goals a-plenty, at least one dodgy penalty and a handsome victory, so I anticipate that it will be a cheery mob crowding the White Hart Lane train platform come 10pm tonight.
Seasoned visitors to these parts will now that on three occasions each year we simply cannot prophesy doom quickly enough. Away games at l’Arse, Chelski and Man Utd – absolutely positively guaranteed to find the famous “AANP Cheery Optimism Counter” stuck at zero for the duration of the weekend. It’s not just at AANP Towers either – I haven’t met a Spurs fan this week who gives us hope of any more than a draw. In fact, having watched the England match on Saturday I rather fancy I have glimpsed the future and already seen how Saturday’s game will pan out – lots of chaps in white shirts scurrying about with noses in air, trying desperately to get a sniff of the ball, as various French types exchange a few too many slick one-touch passes around our penalty area.The remaining 35 league games of the season I genuinely think we ought to win – all of them - but this is one of the unholy trinity, and I don’t see the pattern changing until I’m grey and old. One never knows though, and while as a fan of many years I have the prerogative to settle down into a grump ahead of this one, I expect nothing less that fire in the belly and passion stirring the souls of the eleven in lilywhite out on the pitch.
Opportunity Knocks In Absence of Hudd
Presumably Monsieur Wenger has hired a sniper, or my conspiracy-theorising, Spurs-supporting chum Ian is right, and William Gallas really is still on the l’Arse payroll with strict instructions to search and destroy, because the Hudd is now out of action too. Forever, from what I can glean.
If there is a silver lining to this, or indeed a straw at which to be groped with blind hope, it is the curious trait developing in ‘Arry’s reign for all manner of prodigal sons to come racing back into the fold, make themselves at home and transform into uber-beings of their former selves. This time last year Vedran Corluka was still waddling around the White Hart Lane turf, and Gareth Bale was about to shipped off to Nottingham Forest, while as recently as this summer just about 50% of Spurs fans had wiped Alan Hutton’s very existence from their memories. Since then Bale has become the white Pele and Hutton has established himself as the pick of our back-four, whilst possibly the last two chaps we ever thought would form our central defence have formed the bedrock of a win over Inter.
The point of this little warble is that Hudd’s absence will neatly open the door to some other lucky blighter, and history suggests that the next three months might therefore be the making of Jenas, Sergeant Wilson or Sandro. Indeed, whisper it, but Jamie O’Hara is still officially a Tottenham Hotspur employee. The mind boggles.
4-4-2 vs 4-5-1: The Defoe Edition
The merits and less meritorious facets of 4-4-2 and 4-5-1 were given a slightly lop-sided airing on these very pages last weekend, but the question now has a cunning twist, as the messenger pigeons come bearing news that Jermain Defoe has been sighted with jaws locked in a chomp around what is widely known as the bit. Marvellous news I’m sure you will agree, but how does this fit with the head-hurting permutations of 4-4-2 and 4-5-1.
Earlier this season on England duty Defoe played atop the formation, with Rooney in a VDV-esque position in the hole, and the entire thing turned into a neon-lit success – yet it seems rather unlikely that such a vertically-challenged type as Defoe will be asked to lead the line as lone striker in a 4-5-1.
A more feasible scenario would be Defoe trotting out with a bona fide striker alongside him, which would suggest Princess Pav or the wretched Crouch in a 4-4-2 (with VDV adopting that suspiciously central “right flank” role once more). Not tomorrow perhaps - away to l’Arse it seems almost certain that we will go with 4-5-1, and quite probably shunt Sergeant Wilson or Sandro into the midfield, in a desperate effort to get close to Fabregas and his chums as they triangle themselves to death -, but longer-term the return of Defoe gives us a fresh option, and a forward who is a darned sight better than Crouch when it comes to thumping the ball goalward when presented with a chance.
Defoe or not, there is doleful morbid pessimism around these parts, but by jove I hope that this defeatist stance proves wildly wrong come tomorrow afternoon.
Heavens above, have you seen our injury list? What the blazes are they doing to the players in between match days - wrestling with tigers? Jumping through fiery hoops? Just standing in a big circle thrashing each other with great big iron bars? Whatever the training drills, something has gone horribly wrong, as Bentley, Hudd, Lennon, Keane, Giovani, Daws, Ledders and O’ Hara are all out, and whinging Princess Pav is a doubt (although I am willing to wager that he’ll be tickety-boo come Saturday afternoon).
No further injuries amongst the back-four, which I suppose is a good thing, although given the madness of recent games I’m not entirely sure how to greet the news that Gallas and Kaboul will be strolling out shoulder to shoulder on Saturday.
Scavenging amongst the bloodied limbs at the training ground, ‘Arry and chums have actually managed to rescue a midfield that retains a rather exciting look, which is a pleasant surprise. Bale, Modders and VDV have all been cocooned in cotton wool, and will be carefully unwrapped and delicately placed out on the pitch. They ought to be joined by Niko Kranjcar, who has been quietly shuffling towards the exit door in recent weeks. The chap’s grumblings of discontent are understandable, but it was unfortunate that he performed quite so anonymously when granted his neon-lit chance at Bolton last week. I fervently hope he excels tomorrow, because although it is difficult to accommodate him within the current starting XI he did enough last season to indicate that he is a quality player, and one very much carved in the Tottenham mould.
Three Points! Three Points!
One way or another we really ruddy well absolutely have to pick up three points tomorrow. Concerns about our striking deficiencies, the startling regression of Sergeant Wilson and the cracks in our back-four can probably wait for another day. The eleven who take to the pitch are likely to be the only ones not covered in bandages and supported by crutches, so we will jolly well have to accept and support them. The suspicion here at AANP Towers is that l’Arse and Man City will keep dropping points every now and then, but it won’t matter a jot if we grind to a halt at home to the likes of Blackburn each week. Three points, I beseech ye, three points.
I suppose that after Saturday’s relentless barrage of thwacks at the Self-Destruct button by the esteemed members of our back-four, we good members of the N17 public ought to have expected one more seismic defensive catastrophe on Tuesday night. Unfortunately, the Kaboul-Gallas Chuckle Brothers audition was so wince-inducingly, jaw-droppingly awful it is probably destined to join Rob Green’s summer howler by being immortalised in Lego.
A dashed shame too, because that aside we had looked fairly sturdy value for three points. It was by no means a performance of such riveting gung-ho that it made me want to scamper atop the Empire State Building and beat my chest with pride, but we rather rudely hogged the little round yellow thing from our visitors for most of the night, and made reasonably good use of it too. Scythe them open relentlessly we did not, but regularly prod and poke at them we did, our heroes giving their goalkeeper a good, honest work-out. It was the sort of display that ought to have secured a 1-0 win on a Tuesday night.
Instead it seems that if we are going to finish in the top four we are going to take the scenic route. All is not lost quite yet, for while Chelski might hit top gear soon and go motoring away from the rest, it is difficult to envisage the current top four making a clean break from the rest. L’Arse and Man City can be relied upon to drop points every few weeks – perhaps not in such belief-defying manner as our lot, but one way or t’other nonetheless – and a run of three or four successive victories at any point between now and the festive season ought to set us up nicely for a fresh implosion come spring.
Hudd’s Technique
Back to the game, and while it rather got lost in the fine print, I would happily have stayed at the Lane overnight and beyond, with eyes closed, simply replaying over and over in my mind’s eye that shot from Hudd. The technique of the young man makes me want to cure the blind, just so that they can observe, and then be blinded afresh by its magnificence.
I’ll give young Master Bentley a nod of approval too, for his efforts. Not a pat on the back – he wasn’t that good – but a nod of approval. A different sort of bean from Aaron Lennon, Bentley does seem to dovetail quite well with Alan Hutton (which I realise is possibly just a euphemistic way of saying that Bentley is rather slow). He knew the drill, and unencumbered by the vat of hair-gel atop his crown he did his best to whip in crosses, mixing things up with the occasional shoulder-drop and dink inside.
Plenty of grumblings have been grumbled about the penalty, an incident which (when viewed on a TV replay) led me wondering if it is possible both to award a spot-kick and book a player for tumbling in the same incident. Anyway, given that our nation’s finest might well have disallowed VDV’s goal for sneaky use of the arm, it seems that in this particular instance ying and yang have reached a healthy compromise.
Two points, four games. Mercifully the next fixture is just five minutes away, and a fine, flowing, three point-earning display on Saturday ought to paper over some of the cracks. Nevertheless, we natives are, if not quite restless, certainly discombobulated, as to how to reconcile a win over Inter with one point from games vs the combined might of Bolton and Sunderland.
One point, three games. Generally the solution at AANP Towers when things are not quite tickety-boo is to drink plenty of water and wait it out. In extreme circumstances we have even been known to chew on some raw garlic. However, something a little more drastic will probably be required from our heroes tonight, to shake them from the alarming torpor that characterized Saturday’s performance.
Things have gone so wildly awry in the league that we are now level on points with Liverpool, who I’m pretty sure were about to sack their manager and explode in a ball of flames a moment ago. There is nevertheless a salutary lesson to be gleaned from their fortunes, in providing evidence of the wholesome benefits of a string of consecutive victories. Three wins on the bounce has Liverpool back in contention for the top four; we now find ourselves playing host to Sunderland and Blackburn within the space of a week, a double-header that suggests that if we play our cards right by Saturday night we could find ourselves breathing down the necks of those rotters from l’Arse and Man City once again.
Team News
No Aaron Lennon, which suggests that Niko Kranjcar or David Bentley might be invited to watch in awe as Alan Hutton goes surging beyond them on the right. If fit, VDV and Hudd will presumably return to central midfield, while I imagine Jeans has also risen up the midfield pecking-order, simply by virtue of not being Palacios or Sandro; and Pav for Crouch is the logical but by no means certain alteration in attack.
It appears that Darren Bent is absent for the other lot tonight - bad news for my Fantasy League team, but good news from a lilywhite perspective, as Bent, like Kevin Davies, is one of those types who always seems rather likely to find our net one way or t’other. This means that the dashed exciting Asamoah Gyan ought to be in action for Sunderland tonight, representing another useful test for Younes Kaboul. I am beginning to grow quite fond of the boy Kaboul. He blinking well needs to iron out those lapses in concentration – sliced clearances and whatnot – but it’s nice to see someone big, strong and quick on the prowl in our defence. As that evil Emperor chap noted of Darth Vader when he was still a fiendishly annoying young whippersnapper, I shall watch his career with interest.
With the Champions League anthem removed from the playlist for the next week or two I have supreme confidence in our heroes tonight, and indeed on Saturday. A return to our daring, doing best ought to do the trick, for when our lot start to purr, particularly at the Lane, few sides in Christendom can live with us.
