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Spurs 0-0 Man Utd: A Delayed Match Report – And With Good Reason

Apologies for the delay –since the final whistle sounded on Sunday afternoon the denizens of AANP Towers have spent every waking minute traipsing the country searching for anyone – anyone – willing to buy Peter Crouch from us. It does not have to be the chairman of a football team. He could be bought by a British Basketball Association franchise, or shoved into a museum for small children to gawp at. In fact, since the finishing touches are being put to my latest abode, and I now scour the world’s furnishing shops for a tall lamp to stand next to the very sexy black glass shelving unit, I am considering pilfering Crouch myself and shoving him a corner with a candle in his ear. Admittedly it will not undo the entirely vacuous contribution he made against United, but it would probably ensure that ‘Arry buys the striker we’re crying out for, or at least that he next time picks Defoe, or Pav, or even Carlo blinking Cudicini in attack.I perhaps exaggerate the blighter’s ineptitude, but only marginally. The dust has been allowed to settle for several days, yet harking back to the match still fills me with mild apoplexy. If anyone on the pitch looked conspicuously short of Title-challenging quality, ‘twas he. Presumably included on the basis of his ability to tee things up for VDV he was exposed as woefully incapable of offering any sort of aerial challenge to the sinister Vidic, leaving me and several of those around me to wonder whether Defoe might have caused the United back-line more problems nearer ground-level. Crouch was also treated to possibly the clearest goalscoring opportunity of the match but, alas, used the moment to add to the ever-expanding body of evidence that he is anything but a natural goalscorer (or even, to quote the more acid-tongued, a natural footballer). According to the bespectacled, anorak-clad types at Opta Crouch’s pass completion rate was apparently 32%, suggesting an allergy to the ball rather than an ability to hold it up and link play. Damning stuff, when taken in its entirety.

Anyway, if Niall Quinn is wondering why he has had champagne and caviar delivered to him every evening, a gleaming new Lamborghini has turned up in his driveway and several bars of solid gold left on his doormat, all accompanied by notes reading, “With compliments, AANP”, it is because Sunderland are rumoured to have a passing interest in signing Crouch. Egads man, take him! Take him!

Elsewhere On The Pitch

Elsewhere we fared well enough, our heroes having the better of the game without ever really convincing anyone that a goal was imminent. There was imperious stuff from Modders and Daws, and adequate stuff from Sergeant Wilson; while BAE, fast making a career of flitting between sublime and ridiculous, opted for the former, shoving Nani into his rear pocket and keeping him there for the duration, presumably to the incredulity of Alan Hansen. One mildly disappointing aspect was that after the sending-off young Master Bale did not slowly turn to ad hoc right-back Darren Fletcher and give him the blood-curdling grin of a fully-blown psychotic type, before absolutely mutilating him. Fletcher got off rather lightly in those final 15 minutes, for no obvious reason, and a thigh-slappingly good opportunity to barge back into the title race – and, more pertinently, the top four – gently edged away.

Leaps and bounds no doubt, but the progress of the last couple of years is probably not such as to make us title-challengers yet. A couple of well-chosen signings ought to do the trick. On which note…

Pienaar

In all honesty he’s someone I know by hearsay and Match of the Day’s condensed highlights, rather than having scouted vigorously for the last few years. However, although not the rampaging striker for which we yearn, he seems a talented attacking sort, and can apparently play left, right or centre. Moreover, if his arrival shoves Jenas down the pecking order then I will happily lock myself away in a dark for several years while I grow my hair, before braiding it and tattooing “Pienaar 40” across my back. Bolstering the quality of playing personnel as we move into the second half of the season seems a noble practice, and increasing the competition for places ought to give a healthy edge to things. Finally, as a valedictory note I wish to applaud the young man for opting for Spurs over that odious bunch from West London. Bravo sir, may your stay be long and successful.

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 3-0 Charlton: Boxes Ticked

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.

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Spurs – Charlton Preview: Squad Player Bingo at the Lane

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.

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Spurs match reports

Everton 2-1 Spurs: “Don’t Panic” – The New “Audere Est Facere”

Hmmm. And flying forward in attack at every opportunity, in gung-ho and open manner, irrespective of who we were playing, where we playing and whether or not we were even in possession of the ball, had seemed like such a fool-proof plan. After all, if 2010 taught us anything it is surely that no matter how many we concede we will always score more? A plan of tactical genius, it could not possibly fail. Ever.Curses then upon those dastardly Everton rotters, who cunningly hit upon the idea of doing exactly the same thing to us, and making merry in the various yawning gaps we carelessly left strewn around Goodison Park.

Today’s Mantra

Still, Spurs fans the world over seem to have spent the day pointedly barking the mantra “No need to panic. You hear me? DON’T PANIC!” at anyone within earshot. We all seem to be agreed that there is no need to make wholesale personnel changes or sack anyone.  Actually, it appears that the instant reaction to defeat will be to sell Robbie Keane, but ‘unless ‘Arry is scarily impulsive I think it safe to assume that this is just circumstance. Perspective is being maintained. Give Gareth Bale a vigorous back-rub, maybe let a couple of them sit out the Cup game at the weekend and I suspect we will emerge from our 45-minute rut in tip-top form once more.

Nevertheless, having approached kick-off with the usual gleeful hand-rub of optimism this was mighty disappointing. The buoyancy of successive clean sheets was instantly destroyed as Gomes was caught staring in disbelief at Louis Saha’s quite astonishing hair, rather than focusing on the ball, during the opening exchanges. He can hardly be blamed, for everything about Saha’s mop defies the rules of normality, leaving him looking like someone has planted foliage atop his head, left it to wither and die and then produced some malevolent spell to turn it the most lurid orange.

However, there has not been any stage this season at which conceding a goal has been a cause for concern amongst our heroes, and sure enough we were level in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Part Two of the plan duly followed, when one of our lot went off injured, but Part Three (Winning Goal) bafflingly failed to materialise, as the steam just seemed to drain from their legs, with composure following swiftly from their heads.

Cause For Cheer: VDV

As ever, VDV gave us plenty about which to smile, but watching him attempt overhead volleys from 30 yards got me chewing over a chicken-and-egg style quandary of what came first: the Dutchman’s insistence that he will only score if it is spectacular, or Pav’s insistence that he will only score if it is spectacular. VDV spent much of the game seeking out new and ever more acrobatic means of peppering Everton’s goal, but alas when a fairly straightforward – if rather sharp – chance fell his way, from short range in the second half, he could do no better than stab it straight at Tim Howard. Oh that the chance had instead been presented to him at shoulder height, when he had his back to goal, somewhere near the halfway line. His disallowed goal was also eye-catching (naturally), but alas, being neither a Man Utd player nor Thierry Henry the benefit of the doubt was not forthcoming.

Perhaps Not Such A Great Cause For Cheer: Crouch

Meanwhile Crouch worked diligently to make our heads explode with another quandary, as we tried to decide whether he should have all his pointy limbs hacked off, dumped in a sack with a slab of concrete and thrown out to sea, as his punishment for plumbing new depths of ineptitude; or whether he should be cherished and adored for the rather specific but nevertheless valuable talent of setting up VDV with uncanny regularity. It ain’t pretty (a comment that could comfortably apply to Crouch’s every movement, ever, but which in this instance applies in particular to the thrashing of the orb heavenwards for Crouch to do his thing and VDV then to do his thing) but it is darned effective.

So cherish and adore him we did, briefly. And yet only moments earlier, towering buffon that he can be, he still managed to demonstrate that knack of aiming a fairly straightforward headed chance anywhere but the goal, before hurtling into an offside position for that late first-half chance. After which he tried to kick himself, but missed. And then grinned about it.

Elsewhere On (And Off) The Pitch

The selection of Jenas over Sergeant Wilson took me by surprise, particularly away from home, when a modicum of restraint might have been deemed reasonable, but it is easy to suggest these things in hindsight. In truth, alas, Jenas’ was one of several fairly anonymous performances, the roll of dishonour also including Lennon, BAE and Kranjcar.

The frustration of the evening was compounded by the opportunity missed, due to points dropped by our cursed rivals, as well as the realisation that the draw against Chelski a couple of weeks back probably constitutes two points lost, rather than one gained. Curses and rude words for sure, but it is hardly a season-destroying result, for who amongst you doubts that our heroes will return in a blaze of attacking glory?

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Spurs – Newcastle Preview: Scouting Andy Carroll

Reasonably enough our title chances are being written off by just about every man and his dog, but the great and the good of the football world will, with weary shakes of their heads, have to take us into account.Win today and we overtake Chelski, which would be fairly meaningless at this stage of the season but still jolly good fun, and quite the incentive. Indeed, four wins from our four festive fixtures remains possible, with Fulham at home and Everton away to follow the barcodes this afternoon. The uncomfortable truth is that as long as we keep winning the more commonly-accepted title-chasers will be unable to shake us off. Should we emerge from this little glut of games still within shouting distance of the title favourites, a couple of well-judged January signings could set us up for another corking year ending in 1.

On the subject of January signings we all get a chance to compile our own personal scouting reports on Newcastle’s long-haired hoodlum of a centre-forward, Andy Carroll. The AANP verdict is “Sign him up pronto”, because while he might not necessarily be as effective an emergency substitute centre-back as Peter Crouch, he appears to be approximately a thousand times better than the gangly one when  it comes to the more routine trades of leading the line, bullying defenders, heading with power (and direction, dagnabbitt) and scoring. Moreover, he has the muscle and aggression to suit the VDV-inspired 4-4-1-1 quite neatly. Our heroes have traditionally struggled against great big muscular centre-forwards – Messrs Heskey, Martins, Drogba and even Daniel Amokachi way back in the day, I’m thinking of you – so I expect Daws to have his hands full today, and given that we always concede I might put today’s tenner on Carroll. For their consolation goal, you understand.

With both Modders and VDV in midfield we rang glorious little rings around Villa, but two games in three days might be a bit much for the Dutch master and his brittle hamstrings. ‘Arry may therefore toy with the idea of resting him today, by switching to 4-4-2, or bringing Jenas into the midfield. Defoe now misses three games, so Crouch and/or Pav will be called into action in attack, but whatever the personnel and formation, the game-plan is hardly shrouded in mystery – attack, attack and attack some more. We played for long periods at Villa Park on Boxing Day as if we were the home team, even when down to ten men, so I rather look forward to more pretty triangles  all over the lush Lane turf today. It would be nice at some point to nudge the goal difference up and over double-digit level, but given the attacking threat posed by this mob today I would settle for three points by whatever means.

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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? 

Gomes: Return to the Bad Old Days? 

Time for ‘Arry, and indeed Tony Parks, to earn their corn. We do have a pretty able deputy in Signor Cudicini, but dropping Gomes would probably be a tad over-reactionary. In his defence shot-stopping is generally the strong part of his game, and the mistakes today (and indeed so far this season) have not been due to ineptitude, but rather spasms of mental meltdown. One suspects it would now be in his interests as much as anyone else’s to go through the Christmas period in nice, low-key manner, rushes of blood to the head locked well out of reach for a few weeks.

Daws and Palacios: Returns to the Good Old Days?

On a brighter note however, there were some most encouraging offerings from various others of our clan. Michael Dawson was absolutely ruddy awesome throughout, barely a hint of rust on his broad shoulders. (AANP is quite happy to add its name to the petition to exonerate him from blame for the Chelski goal, on the grounds that he was outwitted by a rogue Ivorian arm.)

Rather spiffing stuff too from Sergeant Wilson, whose performance was a wonderful throwback to those giddying days of early 2009, when he stormed into the Lane and went about mauling any opponent who toyed with the idea of crossing the halfway line in search of our net. With barely a misplaced pass and crunching tackles a-plenty, in conjunction with Gomes’ aberrations, it was like a charming sepia-tinged memory from yesteryear.

As if Sergeant Wilson’s brief renaissance was not sufficiently mind-boggling for one afternoon, further treats were in store behind his left shoulder. Having spent the best part of the season ranting at BAE for his unparalleled capacity for creating trouble where there be none, as he bestowed upon us all the gift of going completely mentally AWOL at the least appropriate moments, I could scarce believe my beady eyes yesterday afternoon, as he delivered a veritable masterclass in left-backery. Heaven knows what got into him, but I would not mind a swig before tonight’s 5-a-side. As with Sergeant Wilson, fingers are firmly crossed that every last details of this performance can be carefully memorised, then transferred identically to next week, and every week thereafter until the end of days. Or at least May 2011.

Pav: Good Day and Bad Day All In One Neat Package

One eye-catching piece of news emanating from the Lane this week indicated that the sinister agent of Pav has been keen to invite Tottenham representatives into his office for vodka shots and contract discussions, regarding his employer. Should any such new deal be inked, I presume that one clause certain to be retained would be the stipulation that Pav is only allowed to score spectacular goals. No tap-ins. No penalties. In addition to scoring spectacular goals it seems he is also permitted to whinge about being bundled over, but nothing else. As such, anyone wondering why he rocked on his heels rather than galloping forward in the second half, when Crouch flicked a header into his path, presumably  needs to be directed to his contract and the stipulations contained therein.

All in all a slightly mixed bag, but I suppose we should be grateful for the point, and concentrate on thrashing Blackpool next week. The unbeaten run is now half a dozen league games, which is far from shabby, considering that they have been juggled with midweek commitments. Moreover, with Daws and Defoe fit again, and various others presumably likely to amble gingerly back into contention, the outlook this Christmas is quite merry.

 

“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.

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Birmingham 1-1 Spurs: How to Lose Two Points in 45 Minutes

Curses. There has been some debate across various corners of the interweb, but here at AANP Towers we had rather been enjoying the exalted status of title dark-horses, and accordingly mark this down as two points lost. No catastrophe, but if we can win at the Emirates we should be able to win just about anywhere, especially after giving the opposition a one-goal first-half thrashing, if such a thing there be.Everything looked fairly tickety-boo in the first half. While Birmingham occasionally reminded us that they were taking part, flapping around in their own area and occasionally placing half a foot on the little round thing, we generally bossed proceedings. The usual suspects were summoned and duly earned their corn. Modders dictated matters in between nervous flicks of his mop; Lennon occasionally surfaced to race past his man, before racing just as quickly out of the limelight; and Bale continued his search for new and exciting ways to escape the ever-growing army of deviants sent to contain him.

One-way traffic, which ought to have been reflected by a half-time scoreline greater than one-nil, but such are the hazards of operating with Crouch in attack. He seemed hell-bent on getting all his limbs under control before attempting to shoot. Reasonable enough I suppose, but it made for typically infuriating viewing at times, when the ball itself seemed to beg him to be thumped into the net.

In our official capacity as Kings of the Second Half Comeback we really ought to have known better than to wither away and gently die after the break, but that we did. Irony abounded in fact, for not only were we this time on the receiving end of a late fightback, but Birmingham even used against us that very Plan B to which we assumed we had exclusive rights. On came their giant striker, the aerial bombardment began, the goal arrived. The introduction of Birmingham’s very own slightly inept beanpole as we defended a one-goal lead with ten minutes remaining might have been the cue for ‘Arry to reinforce things with the introduction of Michael Dawson, but such a call is easy to make after the event, and as caution is not exactly in the Tottenham DNA the only substitution ‘Arry plumped for was Princess Pav for Defoe.

Elsewhere On The Pitch… 

Gallas continued to lead by example, and Sergeant Wilson’s ongoing malaise does not really show much sign of abating, but one of the most eye-catching aspect of proceedings was on the bench rather than the pitch. Egads – two substitute ‘keepers! This injury business really is veering wildly out of hand, and with those marvellous FA suits deciding that squads this season are limited to 25 we are only a couple more groin strains from the sight of Cudicini showing Palacios how it’s done in midfield, or even an appearance from Niko Kranjcar.

Elsewhere Off The Pitch… 

Monsieur Bassong has also hinted at a move over the weekend, on the not unreasonable basis that he wants first-team football. He certainly does a handy job as sixth-choice centre-back, but presuming Daws and Kaboul return to fitness (Ledley and Woodgate represent a different kettle of fish) young Bassong’s chances will remain limited, and “adieu” it may well be.

Back to the game. An unfortunate weekend to drop points, with l’Arse and Man City both winning, but it hardly signals the end of our season, and there will be weeks when we profit and others slip up. Six points off top-spot – and on a four-game unbeaten run – represents fairly healthy going, particularly with a decimated squad, so I urge ye to pause before creating those “’Arry Out” placards. Victory against Chelski next week – and we can jolly well fancy our chances – would put us right back in the thick of things and banish the memory of the two points lost here. Silver lining? That our progress is such that we now consider a draw at Birmingham two points lost, while looking forward with confidence to the visit of Chelski.

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

 

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.

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Arsenal – Spurs Preview: The Gallas Conspiracy Continueth

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.

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Spurs 4-2 Sunderland: 4-4-2 or 4-5-1?

Blessed relief. With the 4-4-2 formation, flowing pass-and-move stuff and hatful of chances throughout this was vaguely akin to the glory glory days of way back in season 2009-10. Seeing Paul Robinson look on forlornly as the ball crashed repeatedly into the net really did give the afternoon a retro feel, but after our recent run of form the priority was three points in any manner possible, and they have accordingly been lapped up most gleefully around these parts.

 

4-4-2 or 4-5-1?

 

For all the doom and gloom of poor form and lengthy injury-lists in the build-up to this one, I was thrilled to bits to see our heroes trot out in good old-fashioned 4-4-2 formation. It served us jolly well last season, both at the Lane and on our travels, but the kids these days are all peddling some variant of 4-5-1, and with VDV blazing magnificence in every direction we have duly adopted it ourselves. It is understandable enough away from home on big European nights, but at home to Blackburn ‘Arry quite rightly decided to revert to the more attacking set-up of yore.

 

It all worked fine and dandy. Jenas and Modders took turns at loitering deep, but by and large all four across the middle merrily wore their attacking hats; and with two bona fide strikers on the pitch we did not face the difficulties of previous weeks, of lacking presence in attack. Here at AANP Towers we whisper snide remarks and begin malicious hate-campaigns against one-man attacks, and stomp our feet in rage when that one-man attack consists entirely of Peter Crouch, but conversely, nothing soothes the savage beast around these parts quite like a two-pronged forward-line, and so it proved yesterday.

 

Of course, the flip-side of a 4-4-2 is that it leaves VDV homeless. Presumably he was the nominal right winger on the teamsheet, but by and large his contribution to the right flank amounted to little more than an occasional glance in its direction, as he took up residence further infield near familiar chums like Modders and Bale. By accident or design VDV’s general neglect of the right flank proved not to be a problem, as Alan Hutton seemed quite happy to do the job of two men, bombing up the flank and sprinting back to defend faster than you could say “Vedran Corluka”.

 

I can grudgingly admit that there is indeed a time and a place for 4-5-1, but not at home to colourless mid-table fare of the ilk of Blackburn. Given that we beat l’Arse, Chelski, Man City and Liverpool at the Lane last season with 4-4-2, I quietly hope that more often than not at the Lane (that is, in matches in which our heroes amble out onto the pitch as favourites) we retain this approach, and find a way to accommodate VDV accordingly.

 

Odd Stuff From Pav

 

On the subject of our two forwards, what a curious old bean our resident Russian is. He seems dashed determined not to score unless the finish involves high levels of complexity and a jolly good hammering of the laws of physics. As such straightforward penalties and one-on-ones do not interest our Pav, but the less-than-entirely-straightforward chance presented yesterday was positively gobbled up with minimal fuss. All told it was a good lively showing from the Russia, moaning and fussing about the nasty Blackburn rotters ‘tis true, but also demonstrating a laudable willingness to scurry to all four corners of the lush green turf.

 

The same could hardly be said of the gangly one, who for a 6’ 7” striker remains infuriatingly poor at shooting and heading. While he earns polite applause for his goal, in general his greatest value seemed to come in the aid he kindly offered the back-four, from set-pieces and the like. (And on the subject of his defending, it is curious to note that the exact challenges for which he is routinely penalised when attacking (arms splayed all over the torso of an opponent) go unpunished when used by the gangly one while defending.)

 

Modders and Jenas – A Startlingly Effective Central Midfield Combo

 

I would like to think that long after the game has finished and fans have departed, Modders remains out on the White Hart Lane turf simply for love of the game, continuing to control the ball immaculately, dip his shoulder and look for a pass. Not as headline-grabbing as some of his peers, but a joy to behold and currently looking like a man thoroughly enjoying life.

 

As for his central midfield partner – lo and behold. No doubt the entire global membership of The Society of All Things Sideways and Backwards watched on aghast yesterday, as their leading proponent repeatedly broke the habit of a lifetime. Jermaine Jenas has generally edged the better side of average on his appearances this season, and it was most pleasing to observe yesterday that every time he received possession he seemed determined to push forward in search of glitz and glamour. He is hardly in the same class as Messrs Modric and VDV when it comes to caressing the ball as if it were a svelte brunette in a revealing dress, but his energy and attacking intent were most impressive, and he helped give our midfield fairly healthy balance – quite a feat considering that we were without either a genuine right-sided outlet or deep-lying holding type.

 

Further Progress in Construction of The Ultimate Footballer

 

Having already proved himself adept at dribbling, crossing, shooting, as well as boasting the ability to hurl in a throw-in like a man possessed, young Master Bale has now ticked “Scoring With Head” off the list of attributes required by a bionic footballer. His questionable fashion sense remains however, the man who once sported a hair-clip pin thing (to give it its technical name) in his mop yesterday opting for bright pink tape across his thighs. Still, whatever works for him.

 

Other Points of Note

 

A bird? A plane? For those scratching their heads in utter bewilderment I can confirm that it was indeed a Tottenham goal from a corner. My oh my, whatever next?

 

We threatened to throw away a 4-0 lead, but 15 minutes proved not quite long enough for the Kaboul-Gallas comedy routine to hit top gear (I should retract that actually, as both made cracking goal-line clearances), and in truth we ought to have won by far more than a two-goal margin. With l’Arse, Liverpool and Chelski all rapidly approaching on the horizon, a win yesterday was an absolute necessity, so give yourselves a round of applause chaps. The league remains such that the current occupants of the top four positions have been dropping points with gay and fairly frequent abandon, so fret not at our current state, behind Bolton and Sunderland. Despite the mishaps of recent weeks our heroes are by no means out of the running just yet.

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Spurs preview

Spurs – Blackburn Preview: Bloodied Limbs As Far As The Eye Can See

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.