Commando. Truly, one of the great films of the ‘80s, quite the celluloid embodiment of the all-action-no-plot mentality. From start to finish it is held together by the very wispiest of fragile plots, whilst also punctuated by numerous illustrations of the linguistic difficulties that Arnold Schwarzenegger never quite mastered (“All that matters to me now is Chenny”). As the number of blood-spattered bodies littering the screen gradually increase, it approaches its quite marvellous denouement, in which Arnie, armed to the teeth with guns, grenades, sticks, stone and catapults, strides through an entire army, killing the lot of them. For their part they line up one by one and fire everything they have at him, for about ten minutes flat, but simply cannot hit him, and all get wiped out.That climactic scene, in which one soldier after another lines up, shoots and misses, was faithfully recreated yesterday at the Lane, by our heroes in lilywhite. A 90-minute homage to one of Schwarzenegger’s finest moments, Defoe and chums pinged shots left, right, off the post, off the line, off the ‘keeper – anywhere but the target, leaving West Ham to rescue Chenny and scarper off back to the Olympic stadium.
If anyone ever wanted to see the complete opposite of the 9-1 Wigan victory this was possibly it. Where once Defoe scored chance after chance after chance, this time he missed them all; where once a late free-kick hit woodwork and ‘keeper and then bounced in, this time it bounced out via the same combination. Nil-nil, after over 20 shots on goal. Crivens.
Hindsight
In terms of ‘Arry’s role in proceedings, I’m not sure there was much more he might have done. Swapping VDV for Pav made sense (and might have been done earlier) for ‘twas not an afternoon for a five-man midfield, while the lonely Defoe was repeatedly swarmed upon by what seemed to be dozens of claret shirts lined up across their area. There may have been a case for withdrawing BAE, and switching Bale to left-back, in order to give him a running start on Bridge, a move that would also have introduced Kranjcar. In the final analysis however, the problem was burying the chances, not creating them.
Which leads I suppose to young Defoe. The haters will probably be stomping around incandescently, but I’m inclined just to leave him be, and wait for him to start scoring again. He has done it enough times in the past to suggest he’s not the complete malcoordinated buffoon of yesterday’s two-yard misses.
Lovely Sunny Day
On the bright side, what a lovely spring afternoon. Modders and Sandro looked sprightly in midfield; Daws suddenly popped up with a pretty impressive VDV impression; and there were none of those mental meltdowns from Gomes. Admittedly he only had one or two saves to make, but nevertheless, the longer he can go without charging off his line and launching himself at the feet of a striker, the happier we all become. Apparently it takes 21 days for a practice to become habit, so let this be a start. Mercifully, with Man Citeh and Chelski hurling their money-bags at each other for 90 minutes this afternoon, someone will have dropped points by supper-time, but as everyone ambles into the final straight it is becoming increasingly evident that on our submission form for qualification into next year’s Champions League, we have applied to do it the hard way. Again.
And just when we had all got our breath back after the Milan game, and switched our focus back to domestic matters, Gary Lineker of all people matches us with Real blinking Madrid.Minor Digression
Some lilywhites of my acquaintance reacted with dismay to the draw, but around these parts there were back-slaps and whoops unconfined. Drawing Schalke or Shaktar (or indeed Man Utd or Chelski) would not have felt like Champions League fare, but this lot most certainly fit the bill. Inter, AC Milan and now Real Madrid – it jolly well feels like we’re rubbing shoulders with Europe’s elite, which was precisely what we had in mind when Crouch nodded in at Eastlands last May. Marvellous.
Marginally Less Glamorous
Back to today. Give us teams from Milan and our lot - Messrs Dawson, Gallas and Sandro in particular - defend the lilywhite net as if their lives depend on it, the threat of Ballon d’Or nominees snuffed out with élan. However, in recent weeks when we have trotted out against Premiership riff-raff our defenders have promptly flicked the dial to “Clueless”, gazing on statically while some of the country’s most mediocre journeymen fill their boots. Capable we certainly our, but unless some inspired soul blares out the Champions League theme over the tannoy five minutes before kick-off it is debatable whether the motivation levels will quite reach the dizzying heights of midweek European nights.
Bale should by now be fighting fit and straining at the leash, which will shove Niko Kranjcar even further down the pecking order, poor blighter. There is apparently an injury concern over Gallas, so Bassong should slot in (or, if injured, one of Corluka or Sandro will presumably be pressed into action at the back). Young Master Defoe has presumably spent the 10 days or so since the Milan game engaging in some surly grumbling at his omission, and given his record against former employees would be a good bet to score (or miss a penalty) today.
As for the other lot, my 15 month-old niece has been deploying her nascent linguistic skills in recent days to inform me repeatedly of the threat posed by Ba. The emergence of Sandro in lilywhite means that we no longer have to look with covetous eyes at Scott Parker, but he and the fantastically-named Hitzelsperger have been central to the recent resurgence of West Ham, so the midfield today ought to be quite the battleground.
The early kick-off gives us quite the opportunity to make the teams above squirm for a few hours, and transferring our Milan form to the Premiership would straightforwardly take care of things – but when was that ever the Tottenham way?
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, 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!
26/9/2010: Impossible to gauge, but I suspect I’m not alone in thinking that we would not be in this predicament if we did not have two games per week. Admittedly eight points from six games, and ninth position at this early stage, is hardly the most critical situation, but four points from the quadruple-header of Wigan, Wolves, West Brom and West Ham is pretty shoddy form, make no mistake.
Time to for a Settled XI?
I understand the principle of chopping and changing, resting players if possible and utilising our sizeable squad for the rigours of a two-games-per-week season, but with our league form now looking ropey I would quite happily see ‘Arry simply select his strongest available XI, irrespective of the competition, for the next half dozen fixtures or so. The Ledley situation is obviously the delicate issue here, but another month of haemorrhaged Premiership points would probably leave us playing catch-up in the bid to finish fourth again. Forget the notion of game-time for Sergeant Wilson, Jenas, Keane etc – could we not just pick our strongest 4-4-2 and try to rack up a few wins?
Lashings of Mediocrity
Rant over. The barrage of the West Ham goal for the last half hour or so was all very well, but our heroes were found badly wanting in the first half. There were some bright moments, particularly the interplay of Modders and VDV, but by and large we were second best to a team who simply appeared to want it more.
Rumours of Jenas’ latest resurgence looked woefully inaccurate, as he turned in the sort of anonymous, toothless display that has had all 36,000 at the Lane shrieking vitriol at him week in and week out for around ten years. Perhaps more bothersome, Hudd was also well below par, while Aaron Lennon’s shaved eyebrow does not look half as menacing when etched across a moody, frustrated visage. The back-four looked about as makeshift as Bale-Corluka-Bassong-Hutton sounds. Up in attack poor old Crouchy was on the whole starved both of service and company. If we persist with this 4-5-1 malarkey – and if it means more of the Modders-VDV roadshow there is a compelling reason to do so – we blinking well need a forward who can put the “1” into 4-5-1.
Admittedly, but for the fingertips of Green (barely recognisable from that World Cup clown) and the width of the woodwork, we might be purring admiringly about this being a well-ground out away point or three, but that is one for a parallel universe. Our lot looked a long way off another top-four challenge, and the players have the air of those who consider their Chamipons League status to equate to a cloak of invincibility from criticism. It is plain darn worrying that the urgency to scrape every point going, which by and large was present last season, is lacking this time around. Last season, falling behind at Upton Park meant fighting back and winning, because there was fourth place to play for, and every point gained in autumn would prove precious come May. This time around the thought of May, and points, and fourth, seems of less concern, a wrong that needs righting pronto.
West Ham – Spurs Preview
25/9/2010: A few years ago, during the glory glory days of Christian Gross and Gerry Francis, a trip to the bottom team would have been precisely the sort of fixture our heroes would lose. Back then, we were also the team against which a generally useless foreign striker, without a goal in half a dozen games since arriving in England, would break his duck; or when up against a team that had gone four games without a goal, we would find ourselves two down by half-time.
In recent years, and last season in particular, we appeared to have cured these maladies. Travel to a team in the relegation zone, and last season we tended to dig in and grab all three points. As a reward for such pains we now get to hear the Champions League theme tune every week or two. Admittedly there were hiccups at home, but generally we fared well at the Lane, and showed most un-Tottenham like fight on our travels.
Not quite sure where we stand this season however – the win at Stoke was marvellous, the home defeat to a Wigan team that had, until that point, been doing everything in their power to cast themselves as the division’s whipping-boys, was painfully reminiscent of the Francis/Gross eras.
So tomorrow off we toddle to those delightful folk at Upton Park, for a game against the bottom team in the Premiership, which on paper at least spells out “three points” in block capitals and stencil font, as used to such emphatic effect in the A-Team. The nagging worry is that with all the bells and whistles of the Champions League, back in the Premiership we are morphing back into the Francis/Gross teams.
Mercifully, the Tottenham circa 2010 can be distinguished from its 1990s equivalents by a handful of genuinely top-notch attackers. In van der Vaart, Modders and Bale we have three little nuggets of awesomeness, and even should the rest of them fail to fire on the requisite number of cylinders, I back these three, between them, to do enough for three points.
No idea what the official stats are, but as we go into our final fixture of 2009 I suspect that a League table based on this calendar year would make for fairly pleasant reading. Vacuous admittedly, but nevertheless it is indicative of our progress, and back within the realms of the real world the more meaningful statistics have us well-placed for a top-four push with the season now in its second half. Points have been rather sloppily dropped at various junctures, but this has hardly been a trait unique to us. In fact, a testament to the generally impressive first half of this season is that the aim now has officially been stamped as “Champions League, s’il vous plaît”, when on 15 August most of us would probably have settled for top six.Decorum dictates that we make the usual polite noises about our visitors today – better than their League position suggests; in good form; likely to come out all guns blazing for a derby game et cetera. All fairly valid points, but anything less than a win and our heroes should be made to refund the paying public. West Ham are unlikely to roll over and let us tickle their tummies, and if it descends into a scrap I would be rather dubious of our chances, but, dispensing with the niceties, we ought to run rings around this lot. We tend to struggle against ten-man defences or red-hot midfields, and with West Ham ticking neither of these boxes, Lennon, Kranjcar, Modders et al should have the green light to go wild.
A couple of selection posers for ‘Arry ahead of kick-off. Arguably our best player over the last month, Kranjcar went scuttling down an awful lot of cul de sacs against Fulham a couple of days ago, and while dropping him would be a rather draconian measure for 60 minutes of under-achievement, we do have waiting in the wings another Croatian oozing creativity. Bassong limped off in the dying embers of the draw with Fulham, which may disrupt the centre-back pairing which has overseen three consecutive clean-sheets, but should he be absent today it ought not to cause too much disruption, given that Ledley is ready to step back into the first-team arena. Elsewhere, Defoe gets to renew that long wonderful loving relationship with the good folk of West Ham, and is a good bet either to score against his former club or miss a penalty at some point; while the game will also provide an opportunity for ‘Arry to have a scout of Messrs Parker and Upson.
As an awe-struck wide-eyed youth, AANP’s first ever trip to the Lane was to see us beat West Ham 3-1, and I’m inclined to suggest a similar outcome from today’s jamboree.
You can become a Facebook fan of forthcoming book Spurs’ Cult Heroes and AANP here, follow on Twitter here - or pre-order the ruddy thing here. Cripes!
And as ever, all are most welcome to leave memories - and browse those of others - regarding some of the players to be featured in forthcoming book Spurs’ Cult Heroes: Danny Blanchflower here, Dave Mackay here, Cliff Jones here, Martin Chivers here, Alan Gilzean here, Pat Jennings here, Cyril Knowles here, Steve Perryman here, Glenn Hoddle here, Chris Waddle here, Ossie and Ricky here, Gary Mabbutt here, Graham Roberts here, Jimmy Greaves here, Clive Allen here, Jürgen Klinsmann here, David Ginola here, Paul Gascoigne here
