Category: Spurs match reports

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Spurs match reports

Spurs – Man City Preview: Pessimism Abounds

An early preview, as I’m off gallivanting for the weekend, and for the second time in a week this all looks rather ominous. City’s charming social experiment into whether money can indeed buy you everything has turned them into something approaching the equal of the United side that so emphatically dismantled us last week.The visit of City presents us with two potential strategies: close our eyes, curl up into a small ball and panic; or get Messrs Hudd and/or Modric on the pitch pronto. Kranjcar and Livermore offer technique and enthusiasm respectively, but looked every inch our sixth- and seventh-choice central midfielders against United, and a step up in quality is desperately needed this week. It is possible that Jenas might also compete for a starting berth on Sunday, and while this chap did once play in central midfield against Brazil, his presence would not inspire confidence in anyone other than our visitors.

Adebayor?

At the time of writing I’m a little unsure, but presume that Adebayor will be ineligible against his parent club, which would be rather exasperating after an 18-month wait for a decent striker. Given the relative toothlessness of the Defoe-VDV combo last week it will be interesting to see whether ‘Arry gives them another whirl on Sunday, but Pav’s performance on Thursday night hardly made an irresistible case for inclusion.

Elsewhere On The Pitch

While central midfield will be a critical area, Lennon and Bale could also be key, their match-ups against Clichy and Richards respectively making for a jolly lip-smacking prospect. Elsewhere, ‘Arry will have to choose between Corluka and Walker, while Friedel will presumably retain his spot.

‘Tis a measure of the deflating effects of last week, in terms of performance as much as result, that my capacity for optimism in even the bleakest situations as a Spurs fan has been all but extinguished. Pessimism abounds at AANP Towers. Even as the home side I fear we will struggle. Fingers crossed and prayers offered that our heroes prove me wrong.

 

 

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 0-0 Hearts: New Faces As Far As The Eye Could See

Supporters’ etiquette dictates that we ought to be mightily supportive of the emergence of home-bred talent into the first team, but here at AANP Towers constructive criticism of the various whippersnappers is obscured by outrage at how unfeasibly young they all are. With their trendy haircuts and no doubt listening to music that would simply sound like noise to the bastions of AANP Towers, Townsend, Fredericks and Kane appeared to have been plucked from the fresh-faced crowds milling around collecting their GCSE results earlier in the day. As for the boy Carroll, he looked more partially-developed foetus than man. Watching these kids buzz around, all earnest verve and brio, the words of a weary Danny Glover resonated truer than ever before.On a slightly more relevant note, the younglings acquitted themselves reasonably well, although given the quality (or lack thereof) of the opposition, none of them stood at as necessarily child prodigies. Townsend and Fredericks had pace to burn on the wings, but each became a little bogged down in their little world when the time came for distributing the thing. Livermore adopted a pretty relaxed interpretation of the term “midfield enforcer” but pinged the ball around in sensible if unspectacular fashion. Carroll impressed, a nice mix of tenacity and technique, notably in the weighting and direction of his pass to create the penalty, and Kane upfront was busy and confident. Promise abounded, but all will need to improve before pushing for regular squad inclusion.

Of the older heads, Daws, Corluka, Hudd and Kranjcar at various points each demonstrated the value of experience, unfussily defusing potentially tricky situations and throwing in the occasional flash of class. Pav, by contrast, looked like he didn’t belong, and given the presence of one esteemed guest in the stands, one wonders quite how many more chances he will get to slam the ball so far from goal it heads for a throw-in.

Off-Pitch Developments

No Modders, which was a slight shame, because it would have made for particularly cruel entertainment to have watched him single-handedly run rings against the opposing mob.

Adebayor is officially a lilywhite however, albeit on a temporary basis. Every Spurs fan in Christendom has an opinion on this one, and AANP’s tuppence worth is that it is a cracking signing. As a player, we have needed him for 18 months; as a person it’s not ideal, but the cynicism of years has worn me down, and I now struggle to believe that anyone in our current squad (bar the kids, and perhaps Daws) particularly cares about the cockerel. If they are quality players and give their all I am resigned to accepting them, whoever their previous employers.

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Spurs match reports

Man Utd 3-0 Spurs: Well Worth The Wait

My, this is embarrassing. We wait three months – plus those tortuous extra 9 days – for our season to begin, then promptly find ourselves nestled amongst the bottom one teams in the table after being torn apart by a bunch of blasted kids. Thank heavens for the fixture-list and its remaining 37 entries.After studying numerous repeats of last night’s game in infra-red and from all manner of camera angles the crack team of football connoisseurs at AANP Towers have concluded that Man Utd are a bit better than Hearts. This was particularly evident in central midfield, rather inevitably.  Poor old Livermore fought the good fight pretty well, but could hardly be said to have grabbed the game by the scruff of the neck and given it a ruddy good talking to. Once United stepped up a gear, midway through the second half, they blew us away, those damn red-clad whippersnappers haring all over the place – around us, over us, beneath us, through our legs and from all angles until it was left to Friedel to do his damnedest while they queued up and peppered his goal. “They’re coming out of the walls man, they’re coming out of the goddamn walls”, Friedel would have been forgiven for musing.

Alas, instead of Sigourney Weaver with a double flame-thrower, our midfield was patrolled by Niko Kranjcar. In recent weeks here at AANP Towers I have been doing my best to ignore the Modric tommyrot and instead been bleating on about the virtues of our other Croatian midfielder. Cue a Kranjcar performance that began modestly, with a healthy percentage of misplaced passes, and gradually saw him descend into anonymity. One esteemed Croatian acquaintance of mine today opined that Kranjcar will one day fall asleep on the pitch; a little cruel perhaps, but well as some jolly lazy distribution (he was not alone in committing this particular misdemeanour) he became slower and slower in the chasing of United shadows, eventually running out of steam completely and spending 10 minutes just standing in the centre-circle panting, alongside the similarly wheezy VDV, before being withdrawn by ‘Arry and placed on a ventilator. Two players of dashed good technique, but if we ever consider sticking the pair of them together again in such close proximity in the centre, it might be worth injecting into their blood-streams some Lucozade, or Coke, or whichever Class A drugs the kids are using these days for their afternoon energy boost.

Elsewhere On The Pitch 

A cracking performance too from Brad Friedel, despite conceding three. The stats may say he is 40 but one glance at his kindly, wizened visage betrays the fact that he is clearly somewhere closer to 70, and like any good grandfather he has a rather comforting presence. His shot-stopping was excellent, and he seemed to gather the odd corner with none of the fuss and bluster of a Gomes.

Lennon’s exasperatingly poor decision-making (you know the one I mean) and Defoe’s rattling of the woodwork could be rued, but we can hardly complain about the outcome. Our heroes need to get their act together sharpish, but there were first half moments – the odd one-touch passing move, the occasional dart from Bale – to suggest that things will improve soon enough.

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Spurs match reports

Hearts 0-5 Spurs: A Disappointing Evening for the ITV Commentators

Five goals away from home, five different scorers, clean sheet, no injuries (I think) and run-outs for squad members and kids alike – long may this continue. It could be that Hearts are actually awesome, and we are in fact better than Brazil 1970, but a win that comfortable inevitably points to abysmal opposition. Still, our heroes could do no more than take their opponents to the cleaners, and ‘twas duly done.Life Without Modric? 

Hearts’ players looked like their brains might explode as they tried to comprehend how VDV could amble with such ease from attack to midfield and just about anywhere else he pleased. Kranjcar was afforded similar time and space, and purred away accordingly. He is a particular favourite at AANP Towers, but Hearts gave him so much space and time they managed to make him look like Maradona. Those two pulled the strings, and when Hearts rallied early in the second half, VDV was withdrawn and Hudd took over to similarly rampant effect.

A glorified training game it may have been, but it was still heart-warming to see the ball pinged first-time hither and thither by every man in lilywhite. Life won’t always be this easy – other teams migh try tackling our lot – but for 90 minutes at least it looked like our midfield had the technique and craft to cope without Modric.

Kids These Days 

That young Walker at right-back has pace in abundance was already well-known, but it was good to see him looking switched on for his defensive duties as well as haring to the opposite goal-line as fast as his legs could carry him. I also particularly enjoyed seeing Andros Townsend take time out from his uncanny Lewis Hamilton impressions to provide an absolutely sumptuous pass in the build-up to our fifth, weighted to perfection, and delivered inside the run of the full-back.

Elsewhere On The Pitch 

A tad irrelevant in the grand scheme of things perhaps, but most satisfactory nonetheless. More of the same on Monday night and life will be just tickety-boo.

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 0-0 West Ham: Tottenham Go Commando

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.

 

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Spurs match reports

Blackpool – Spurs Preview: Nail-Biting Victory Would Suffice Tonight

Spurs fans born yesterday – or at least since around 2009 – may disagree, but following up victory at the San Siro with defeat at Blackpool would not be the most unlikely turn of events at for the heroes of N17. Mercifully the current vintage seem just as capable of digging out tricky away wins to lower-table scrappers as they are of churning out a never-to-be-forgotten glory night in one of Europe’s premier arenas – which ought to prove jolly handy tonight, as our walking wounded leave a blood-stained trail from N17 to Blackpool pier.It’s three consecutive league wins for our mob, wins that are strangely all the more gratifying for being so unglamorous and low-profile. A fourth tonight would have Man City spluttering into their corn flakes tomorrow morning at the realisation that third spot has been sneakily half-inched from their grubby mitts, at least on a temporary basis. Fingers crossed it all works out swimmingly tonight then, or if not swimmingly than at least according to our fairly well-established routine of nail-gnawingly tense late winners.

Team News

“Don’t you forget about me,” warbled eighties Scottish beat combo Simple Minds, a couple of years before we all forgot about them. Anyone loitering outside the Spurs training ground would be familiar with the song, it being plaintively repeated ad infinitum by Niko Kranjcar as he stays behind each day to hone further his already darned-near immaculate shooting technique. Tonight however, he may yet have good reason to whoop “woo-ha” or the nearest Croatian equivalent. Gareth Bale remains out of action, and while Pienaar was preferred on the left last week at Milan, on account of his defensive qualities, Kranjcar’s recent form could well earn him the nod tonight.

Elsewhere in midfield ‘Arry is unlikely to opt for the safety-first option of Sergeant Wilson and Sandro, given that Jenas and Modders are available once more. VDV, Corluka and are the principal casualties from last week, while Woodgate is also back in his natural habitat of the treatment room.

Some tinkering will therefore be necessary – Gallas at right-back, a rare start for Bassong, two in attack – but nevertheless, the remaining personnel capable of walking unaided ought to have sufficient quality to garner three more points. Any fewer would frankly be a massive disappointment.

 

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Spurs match reports

AC Milan 0-1 Spurs: Good Grief. Who Saw That Coming?

Come now, really – did anyone in their wildest dreams expect that? Really? That was not just a victory away to AC Milan, it was an absolute ruddy masterclass in the much-vaunted but rarely achieved art of Navigating Fiendishly Difficult Away Legs in the Champions League. Novices? Fie upon the very suggestion. Our lot look like they were born to play in this competition.First whistle to last our heroes stuck to the drill with a discipline that had me reaching for the whisky in disbelief. Like some super-computer sucking up knowledge at a rate of knots, ‘Arry demonstrated that the lessons of San Siro visits past have been learned, the days of “Just f*ckin’ run about” a distant memory as he adopted the most unlikely role, for one night at least, of tactical genius. Accordingly, our heroes carefully put to one side the gung-ho all-action approach they have spent the past couple of years perfecting, and instead donned monocles and mortar boards for a display of quite astounding maturity and bloody-mindedness. Witness Woodgate, not a cobweb in sight, clearing from a prone position on the floor in the final seconds; Modders orchestrating keep-ball in the dying stages; Corluka bearing a blood-stained ice-pack around his mangled foot; all of which left the Milanese stomping around with angrier and angrier scowls, like over-sized nursery kids, until one felt they might tear off their own limbs and beat each other with them, which admittedly very few nursery kids do these days.

Roll of Honour

Ah the good folk of Tottenham Hotspur FC. Heroes the ruddy lot of them. Sandro and Sergeant Wilson charged around to the strains of 90s one-hit techno wonder Kicks Like A Mule, stomping up to Milanese attacking types and positively screeching into their faces “Your name’s not down, you’re not coming in!” Not only did those two patrol the centre like Robocop and his less frivolous twin brother, but they also showed quite remarkable discipline in restraining themselves from diving in at any point, and avoiding the concession of too many unnecessary fouls.

For his next trick Gomes will presumably travel through time and reappear two days ago, but at the San Siro he settled simply for defying the laws of physics, those two second half saves worthy of Banks and tantamount to goals.

VDV’s every touch was a thing of beauty, the very antithesis of the Neanderthalic buffoon in the opposite ranks, for whom the ball was but a secondary detail. Too easy it is to forget VDV’s disguised chip that floated an inch wide while just about everyone in the stadium and the watching world was looking towards the far post area into which most mortals would have aimed a cross.

Lennon’s destruction of the left-back was almost inhumane (although not in a Matthieu Flamini sort of way), while out on the left the remarkably similar-looking BAE and Pienaar beavered back and forth indefatigably.

The back-four barely put a foot wrong, Daws looking every inch an international, and when all-out assault forced the reshuffle Woodgate slotted in with minimal fuss, and the drill was resumed. The other substitutes did precisely what every good wholesome substitute ought to do, Modric lovingly stroking the thing around for the final ten minutes and Kranjcar poking little triangles, as the enraged Italians looked for something, anything, to kick.

The Goal 

And the finish. Good grief for one horrible moment it looked like Crouch’s legs had assumed minds of their own and were about to sabotage the blighter’s moment, but he avoided tripping over himself in an unholy tangle of limbs – just – and the day was ours.

(Epilogue)

And then it got better. Lest any further evidence be needed that his shaggy mane hides only a great big vacuum between his ears, Gattuso then ignored the likes of resident lightweights such as Pav, Modders and Gomes, and made a beeline for one J. Jordan Esquire. “Nobody wants to see that,” droned Stelling on Sky Sports, rather missing a trick, for Jordan vs Gattuso would be one of the fastest-selling pay-per-view events in television history, even if it would only be a matter of seconds before Jordan tore the little man apart with his bare hands and then chewed on him with what teeth he has left.

(Second Epilogue)

And then it got better still, when all-round good egg and renowned gentleman of the game, Graeme Souness, was swamped within his own bile during the post-match natter and spat out a description of Gattuso as “just a little dog”. Ooh, you could almost reach and touch the hatred.

O

ne or two colleagues have pointed out that the tie is far from over and other such guff, only to be confronted by that most wonderful riposte, The Grin of Delight. Frankly, right now, I don’t care what happens tomorrow, next week or any time hence. After the turgid dross and embarrassment of the 90s and 00s, the last 18 months have provided enough lilywhite glory nights to last me a lifetime. AC Milan 0 – 1 Spurs. Ding dong.

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Sunderland 1-2 Spurs: Kranjcar A Role-Model For Today’s Youth

And so it continues. Five minutes ago Man City and Chelski were just expensively-assembled specks in the distance; but three hard-earned wins later and we now pose them a problem they will be unable to solve simply by reaching for the wallet and hurling foreign currency around. Take that, you rotters.And Yet It All Began So Ominously…

Victory away to a top-seven time without the assistance of the entire first- choice midfield is most certainly the stuff of which Top Four finishes are made, although in time-honoured fashion we spent most of the first half complicating things for ourselves. With Gallas having discovered a laudably original way to create chaos in defence, the Bale-Hudd-M-Modder-VDV shaped hole in midfield was rather prominent in a first half in which glimpses of scything one-touch football were all too fleeting.

Sandro may have ended the game like a runaway juggernaut but in the early stages he seemed unable to handle the pace of the game. Alongside him Jenas was turning in a performance of the infuriating ilk, shocked at the concept of taking the game by the scruff of the neck even when we trailed, and instead sticking to a deep-lying role of sideways and backwards passing, while switching his shooting radar to a spot about 17 feet skywards. The pair of them looked well set for glory at the Lease Effective Central Midfield Combo The Premiership Has Ever Seen awards, forcing Niko Kranjcar to come ambling infield to offer silky assistance all too often.

Ask And You Shall Receive

Mercifully, albeit rather spookily,

my pre-march plea for a set-piece goal for just about the first time since we won the Double was answered, in what turned out to be the only recorded incident of a goalkeeper being nutmegged by a header in the history of everything anywhere. While I hesitate to suggest that ‘Arry’s pre-game kick-off comprises simply reading from the pages of AANP, i will nevertheless include a more ornate wish-list ahead of the Milan game, including a return to fitness of Ledley and hat-trick for Benny.Today’s Youth: Admiring of Niko Kranjcar

If Niko Kranjcar thinks that will be enough to usurp Bale, Modric and VDV in the pecking order someone may need to sit him down and have a gentle conversation, but the chap’s quality is indisputable, and he is certainly making a case for at least a spot of squad rotation. Classy touches and a healthy workrate (Pav take note) are his modus operandi, and as we edged on top in the second half he and Sandro were instrumental.

That goal was something special too, its sheer gorgeousness making it a rather suitable valentine’s present for last-minute panicking types. The young hoodie-wearing chap next to me in the pub greeted its replay with a squeal of “Tekkers!” an expostulation which conjured up vague images of a 90s computer game, but which I have since been reliably informed by chums better versed in such vernacular is a reference to quite impeccable technique, and effectively represents a doffing of one’s hat in admiration. As such I can only concur. Tekkers indeed.

Job done thrice over, and Milan now beckons (I don’t wish to cast aspersions on his integrity, but I have a sneaking suspicion that when ‘Arry confidently asserts that Bale will be out injured he is doing so with something of a poker face, lovable rogue that he is). This one may not have been as memorable as, for example, the win at the Emirates, but given the absentees it deserves a spot of prominence within the pantheon of mightily impressive performances of 2010-11. Come on you Fulham…

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Spurs 2-1 Bolton: What Happened to the Phantom Third Penalty?

Last-minute winners and multiple penalties are the least we have come to expect from a 90-minute adventure at the Lane, but as the cheery dissection of events was conducted at AANP Towers one question sprang to mind, yet to be satisfactorily answered: what the devil happened to that third penalty we were awarded? You know the one – VDV pinging off short passes, a vagrant arm giving the ball a little nudge and hearty roars of approval from the Park Lane, all fairly shortly before half-time. The ref awarded it, then wandered over to his assistant, had a brief chin-wag and then seemingly decided that as we would probably miss it anyway he would just skip the whole bally affair and give the Bolton ‘keeper the ball to do with as he pleased.Quite what happened is a mystery. I do not recall seeing a flag being earnestly waved out yonder, to signal a prior offside or any such thing. It could I suppose be that refereeing superstar Mark Clattenberg decided that as he had not been in the limelight for a full five minutes the world needed to focus upon him one final time before the break. Most perplexingly however, the entire episode was omitted from Match of the Day in a vaguely Orwellian style, the BBC’s Ministry of Truth presumably keen to convince licence-payers that in fact no third penalty incident ever existed.

The Re-Birth of Kranjcar?

Ultimately it mattered not, Niko Kranjcar saving the day with a shot that practically squealed at ‘Arry, “Look here you twitchy rotter, I’m a full-time footballer and darned well capable of cutting it within this lilywhite mob.” Amidst the euphoria of yet another injury-time winner it was easy to overlook quite how stylishly he took the opportunity, a timely reminder of what jolly good technique he possesses.

So what might the future hold for young Master Kranjcar? If the hallowed corridors of White Hart Lane could speak they would have plenty of tales to relate of outcasts taking advantage of injuries elsewhere to cement their first-team spots in the ‘Arry era, as Messrs Bale and Hutton can attest. With nobody daring to mention how long Bale will be out injured, and VDV picking up his usual weekly knock, ‘Arry might just be tempted to resort to Kranjcar on left midfield at some point in the near future.

Elsewhere On The Pitch

Minus Hudd, Bale, Modders and, latterly, VDV, this was a decent attacking performance, of the rip-roaring, slick, high-tempo mould. Benny brought his A-game (which presumably means we can all expect a shocker from him next week) while poor old Jermaine Jenas seems destined never to be the headline-grabbing superstar, coming within a whisker of glory but ultimately having to defer to Kranjcar in the hero stakes.

Goodness knows what year it will be before Jermain Defoe next scores, but I remain of the opinion that given a run of consecutive games he will get there eventually, and in a flurry. Temporary form, permanent class and all that nonsense. However, as long as he and Crouch are struggling with the concept of net-bulging fare we could probably do without Gomes’ curious aberrations.

Still, all well that ends well. Two consecutive wins, and six more eminently winnable games approacheth. Over the last week alone we have narrowed the gap on each of the four sides ahead of us. Rack up a string of wins through February and we will nibble away at the advantage held by the stuttering four atop us.

 

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Blackburn 0-1 Spurs: BAE Cheats Death, Others Not So Lucky

Everyone feeling better now? As is typically the case with our one-nil wins it was all frightfully nervy stuff towards the end, what with the aerial bombardment and off-the-line clearances, but three cheers for a clean sheet and away win. Huzzah, huzzah and thrice I say, huzzah!AANP: Pretty Ignorant When It Comes to Football

So having banged on to anyone who will listen for past six months about how useless Crouch is with his head, lo and indeed behold the sight of the gangly one nailing an absolute textbook header in the opening moments. I am still inclined to suggest that half of his headers fly upwards, and another quarter fly wide, while 0% have any sort of power behind them – but like a broken clock stumbling upon the jackpot twice a day, Crouch has his moments and this was one. Bravo sir.

Another line regularly trotted out in this corner of the interweb is how, for all his perceived deficiencies in other areas, Jermain Defoe is lethal in front of goal. Behold again then, the sight of Defoe missing our clearest chance of the game (although admittedly he did at least have the good grace to do his usual thing of thumping the ball on target and forcing the ‘keeper to make the size).

Thus, the victory bourbon at AANP Towers on Wednesday night was glugged in accompaniment to a sizeable portion of humble pie, as further evidence was provided of why those who know such things work in football, while AANP witters away at a keyboard.

Only BAE Can Do What BAE Does

Nobody quite knows how, but Benny Assou-Ekotto repeatedly dices with death on the football pitch, and gets away with it. Cruyff turns in his own area, and nutmegs on the goal-line are all part of a day’s week for BAE, presumably before he goes home and narrowly avoids burning down his house despite stubbing out cigarettes on his curtains. It defies logic, science and belief, yet so numerous are the examples of BAE’s astonishing close-shaves that a full compendium has been compiled by geeky types, and a second is in the offing.

Be ye warned however: BAE and BAE alone can pull of such footballing Evil Kenievelry. Daws tried to dabble in a BAE impression last week, and was rewarded with conceding two goals and getting sent off within the first fifteen minutes. Then on Wednesday at Ewood young Sebastian Bassong attempted similar tomfoolery on a couple of occasions, and almost came a cropper. Leave it to Benny, chaps.

Elsewhere On The Pitch

William Gallas’ attempt to make himself a million times more likeable than he ever was at that ‘orrible lot down the road continues apace. Lest anyone should have been in any doubt as to his physical condition he made sure to throw in a wince and a grimace every thirty seconds, but the business of keeping hulking opponents at bay was carried out with what is becoming typical aplomb.

A gentle round of applause too for Jermaine Jenas. Filling the boots of Luka Modric was an exercise of near-futility, but while he lacks the Croat’s class he at least retained the mentality of looking to keep possession at all costs, and supplemented it with a couple of darned well crucial defensive interventions.

Heart-warming stuff. Minus some key personnel this was a fabulous result, and did enough to suggest that the Top Four game is not up quite just yet.

 

By the by – sincere apologies for the tardiness of recent posts, but the real world gubbins is proving jolly time-consuming round these parts at present.