Chelsea 0-2 Spurs: Four Tottenham Talking Points

1. Some Lovely Football

AANP has spent more time on the spoken word than the written word so far this season, commentating obligations peppering the old diary, but last night the stars aligned most pleasingly, and I found myself wittering away into a microphone on this very fixture. 

The standout feature of the evening throughout was the most becoming habit amongst our clan of pinging short one-touch passes about the place. Tempting, or course, to describe these things as triangles, but to do so would be to play pretty fast and loose with the rules of trigonometry. A generous onlooker might perhaps classify them as ‘double triangles’, although even that moniker probably fails to do justice to the pretty little patterns mapped out every few minutes by our heroes.

They prodded and dabbed rondo-style passes hither and thither at breakneck speed. While this was often born of necessity, pass-and-move identified as the best means of escaping defensive cul-de-sacs, it was also simply a means of passing the time, and toying with the Chelsea mob as might wanton boys with flies. Chelsea could not live with it (in truth, up in the commentary box, AANP could barely keep up either), but just witnessing it, on a stage such as this, and in a fixture such as this, was an absolute delight.

This, it occurred to me, was football the way God intended. Not that dirge-like long-ball, long-throw, long set-piece garbage peddled by Woolwich each week, but dreamy, rapid-fire passing in which our heroes always seemed to have one extra player on the field.

And to really ram the thing home with an extra dollop on top was quite how starkly it contrasted to the Frank-ball nonsense we had forced down our throats last season, in which the players barely seemed to know what shape the ball was.

It should, however, be noted, that while the principle was flawless, and the execution, when successful, had us weak at the knees; every now and then our lot muddled their coordinates, and gifted away possession in some rather awkward spots. In fact, across the whole 90, the only times I recall Chelsea having a sniff of our goal was when our one-touch manifesto malfunctioned somewhat and the front door swung open for them.

So some caution is perhaps required. We have not quite achieved prime Barcelona just yet. That accomplishment, and all the glory and silverware that come with it, is surely just a matter of time at this point, but some creases still require a little ironing out. Nevertheless, by and large that was the best stuff I’ve seen us churn out in the post-Ange era.

2. Maddison (and Gallagher)

In a bygone age, when AANP was a little less grey around the temples, and a little less stiff around the joints, I used to fill a fair few column inches with some barely-restrained rants of frustration that a player as naturally talented as Christian Eriksen would so frequently flit around the peripheries.

His better moments were on a different plane, and drinking them in on Match of the Day would give the impression that here was a chap who’d spent his day pulling strings from first minute to ninetieth. Watching each match in its entirety, however, seemed to reveal that away from those game-changing moments he rather slunk off into the shadows, and let the game pass by around him.

I mention all this because from the off yesterday, James Maddison seemed possessed of a different viewpoint, one more akin to being front and centre of everything that went on. If there were one of those aforementioned double-triangles, Maddison wanted to author at least two of its passes. If we were one-touching our way out of defensive trouble, Maddison wanted to butt in and help out. And if a quick counter-attack were on the cards, Maddison wanted to deliver the coup de grâce.

It’s a brand of on-pitch leadership that I fancy we’ve missed somewhat in the last year or so since he’s been absent. And a propos his absence, that he has the chops to march straight back into the team and demand the limelight after such a long injury reflects pretty positively on the chap, Not exactly, one might suggest, a bean short of confidence.

This is not to suggest that Maddison single-handedly tore the other lot to shreds; more that he insisted on being involved in everything that went on, and in my book that’s a cracking approach for a self-styled midfield creator-in-chief.

There was a gloomy inevitability about Maddison’s comeback being abruptly halted after one and a half games by some mysterious species of injury; but it provided an opportunity for some rare AANP praise to be bestowed upon one Connor Gallagher.

The AANP take on Gallagher has generally been that he enters the fray, perspires furiously, run this way and that, and then the game ends without much having changed. Yesterday however I thought he put this somewhat limited skillset to pretty effective use.

With the game still finely poised, and the removal of Maddison something of a punch to the gut, it was important that our heroes did not lose their way, and Gallagher’s energy seemed to help those in lilywhite maintain their focus. He scampered this way and that, as if personally determined to deliver to the Chelsea lot a handwritten message that the game was far from done, and that if they wanted anything from it they would have to evade the indefatigable Gallagher to do so.

3. Tel’s End-Product

Another theme trumpeted at AANP Towers in days gone by has been that young Monsieur Tel is one of those more appropriately placed under the banner ‘Hot Prospect’ than ‘Finished Product’. Bags of promise in there, no doubt, what with his speed, trickery and that occasionally-glimpsed rasping finish.

However, as the chap beavered away week after week, showing plenty of willing in taking on – and occasionally beating – his man, only then to stuff up the final ball, one could at best exhale and reassure oneself that in a few years’ time he might be a pretty handy sort of nib. Flashes of quality certainly helped (that corker vs Leeds last season sticks in the mind), but the problem with flashes is that, by definition, they don’t stick around too long.

Anyway, all of the above meant that I gave the chin one of those pensive strokes when I saw his name etched on the teamsheet; but mercifully, he flicked his switch to ‘Menace’ early on in proceedings, and kept it there pretty much throughout.

As it happened, the one area in which he possibly lacked, in the first half at least, was end-product, instead opting often to cut back infield and send the ball backwards. One could forgive him, however, because his availability and willingness occasionally to dip into his box of tricks against Chelsea’s right-sided sentry unit, meant that we had a regular outlook (which seemed all the more important in the absence of an old-fashioned centre-forward of the muscular-and-rugged variety).

All of which rather faded into the background after his headline moment, though. A pedant might point accusing fingers at the various Chelsea defenders who melted into the background rather than getting involved in the nitty-gritty of tackling and dispossessing. Such quibbles should be dismissed. This was a goal of the highest quality, close in its audacity and execution to the efforts of Son and Van de Ven in recent years.

Had he simply won the ball inside his own half and decided his work was done, popping the ball off to a nearby colleague and sloping off to the sidelines for a breather, one would have applauded him. To have the gumption then to motor up to and beyond the halfway line showed commendable brio; and again, had he opted to quit while ahead by biffing the ball infield and slowing to a gentle chug, one would have upgraded his out-of-10 rating by one or two notches.

However, that he then motored all the way up to the opposition area, outpacing friend and foe alike, was pretty impressive stuff – to outpace with the ball at one’s feet those travelling unencumbered takes some doing. To then top it all off by slamming the thing into the one vacant area of the net was quite simply magnificent. Throw into the mix the timing in the game, start to the season, identify of the opponent and venue, and young Tel deserves every ounce of praise tossed his way.

All of which neglects mention of arguably our stand-out performer (Fernandes); and the broader fact that, as a collective, our heroes went to Stamford Bridge of all places, and played Chelsea off the park. As a valedictory point though, I’d emphasise that while it’s only two wins on the bounce, the preceding three games at least featured out lot absolutely battering the opposition for the opening half hour but somehow failing to score. Performances and general quality have not been an issue so far this season – but now that confidence, presumably, will be up, I’d rather fancy us to build up a head of steam.