1. Collect Underpants
2. ?
3. Profit
As the South Park Underpant Gnomes so crucially failed to diagnose, some things are a dashed sight more difficult in practice than they appear on paper. Nota bene, ‘Arry and the assorted Hotspurs, for bottom of the table Blackburn may be, but alas it is unlikely that they will simply roll over and allow us to tickle their tummies before disappearing into the night with three points. Teams at the squalid end of the table certainly gave us problems last season, and after a generally below-par performance away from home last week complacency would be a grossly misjudged sentiment going into this one.‘Arry has to choose between VDV and Defoe in attack, the former generally preferred for away days, the latter looking frightfully bright and perky in recent weeks. The return of Sandro to the fold in midweek gives an extra option in midfield, but the unlikely chaps in the spotlight pre kick-off today will be the behemoth that is Kaboul and the not quite so imposing Bassong, without whom we may be forced to field life-size cardboard cut-outs of Ledley and Daws. Having said all that however, if we turn in a performance of the ilk of those in September, Messieurs Kaboul and Bassong ought to be spectators for much of this one. Three points please chaps.
Tag: Defoe
Blast, and other unseemly vituperations. Apparently armed with a game-plan to avoid, at all costs, ever stringing together more than three passes, our heroes stuck to the drill fairly resolutely throughout, and it’s two points a-begging, faster than you can say “someone track that Ba fellow, he’s making a late run into the area”.Admittedly all t’s were crossed and i’s dotted in the first ten minutes or so, with pressure applied and short passes passed as standard; but thereafter the four walls of AANP Towers resounded repeatedly to the sounds of groans and curses, as far too many in lurid purple picked the wrong option, or just displayed a rather wild sense of geography with their passing. And dash it all (if you pardon my French) even despite this blistering second-ratedness we could – and probably should – nevertheless have still won the bally thing. Two-one up in the last ten minutes, with possession and rather tasty chances in tow – it was jolly winnable in the final furlong, and yet we unwon it.
First Gear (Or Lack Thereof)
For whatever reason, our heroes never really found first gear. The central core of Livermore-Parker understandably enough had their dials set to “Destroy” rather than “Create”, while out on the right in the first half, Bale generally had the doleful air of a man who had recently watched his national rugby side suffer an injustice or two, and consequently failed to deliver a performance that would blow up anyone’s skirt, even when dutifully taking up his natural left-hand abode. Modders showed sporadic flashes of invention, particularly in the second half, but when the media bigwigs put together a compilation for his Watch the Little Fella Bossing the Game With Footballing Alchemy In His Tiny Boots dvd, this particularly afternoon jaunt is unlikely to feature too prominently.
Polite Applause
Nevertheless, there are some certificates of merit to be dished out when the players next convene at school assembly. Young Livermore’s impression of Sandro was laudable, the tackle that helped create the penalty a notable highlight; and out yonder on the right Master Walker generally seemed to have understood the various dos and don’ts in defence. Mind you, if memory serves he might have done more to prevent the first goal (as might Livermore), and for all his spunk and brio on the charge, one suspects he is ill-served by the little grey cells when given time to think, around the opposition area.
Cracking finish from Defoe, although it will do little to settle the debate that occasionally surrounds him – the lovers will continue to point to his single-minded and darned effective approach to the game (blast the thing low and on target), while the haters will ask what he adds to the team when he fails to score. (AANP has pitched its tent, unfurled its sleeping bag and cracked open the Thermos flask in the former camp, since you ask). A pat across the sturdy back of Kaboul too.
Not Looking Quite So Bionic
I suppose four games and 30 minutes was about as much as I was expecting from Ledley until Christmas, so to have been treated to all this (and the victories that inevitably accompany his presence) by mid-October has been something of a bonus. It is hardly most jaw-droppingly controversial statement of the millennium to suggest that Bassong is not quite a replacement of similar ilk – the lad chugged away earnestly enough, but if you can judge a man by the company he keeps, it is worth noting that Bassong was but one swish of a fountain pen away from calling the good folk of QPR his team-mates, at the end of the summer transfer window.
In a parallel universe Ledley played the full 90 and our lot hung on for three points, but having not been at our best an away point is probably acceptable, and on balance ‘twas a fair enough result. The next handful of games looks winnable. On y va.
I have looked it in the eye, monitored its pulse-rate and threatened all manner of violations that contraven the terms of the Geneva convention – yet I can confirm ‘tis true: the league table doesn’t lie. Newcastle are currently in the Champions League spots.Not that even the most fervent of their breed would harbour much hope of them still being them come May 2012, but fourth they are, and reading between the black and white strips this points to a team pootling along in marvellous early-season form. Quite the challenge then, but quite the carrot a-dangling in front of our heroes too, the nutritious and delicious prize of fourth place awaiting should we bag all three points.
VDV’s Wheezy Rant
A couple of weeks ago against l’Arse VDV was plopped on the right wing and ordered to track back whenever necessary. Judging by that particular square peg performance he is probably still catching his breath now, but in between the panting, wheezing and puffs on his inhaler he has taken the time to bang on his door and complain that he no longer wants… (wheeze…) to play on the right, because he is far more… (deep breath…) effective down the middle. A fair point, but rather marvellously ‘Arry rejoined by telling him to shut up and play where he was told.
Adebayorlessness
The dilemma is crystallizing fairly clearly now – VDV or Defoe to partner Adebayor? Alas, ‘tis likely to be a moot point today, as Adebayor has apparently been struggling with some sort of hamstring ailment. A crying shame, for away days like these are precisely the occasions for which he was lassoed into the lilywhite fold. Still, the official records of Tottenham Hotspur FC no doubt record countless occasions of us winning away from home without Adebayor in the line-up, so this is by no means an insurmountable obstacle.
Beating both Liverpool and l’Arse at home marked two sizeable strides in the merry gambol towards a Champions League place, but the three points on offer today will count for just as much come May. Over to you now chaps, go carpe that diem and get us up to fourth.
Strange times these – the first in my living memory that we’ve gone into a match against that ‘orrible lot from down the road with the bookies sidling over into the lilywhite camp. The noisy babblings of my l’Arse supporting chums ring a little hollow these days. Current form; playing personnel; summer transfer dabbling; inside out; upside down – any way you look at it we have the edge at the moment.Unfortunately, this does not necessarily count for a great deal – the standard North London ruckus tends to produce four goals in the first 20 minutes, at which point pre-game indicators are accordingly lobbed out of the nearest window. Nevertheless, it’s nice at least to go into this one using little more than a knowing smile in the traditional pre-match verbal jousting with fans of the other lot.
Selection Dilemma: VDV
A big moment for ‘Arry this one, as the conundrum that quietly brewed away throughout last season is now presenting itself in the form of a life-sized, VDV-shaped selection dilemma. Where best to begin with the Dutchman – right-wing, behind a lone striker or on the bench? The mildly controversial view here at AANP Towers is to mark a big cross in the box entitled “Impact Sub” today. Before you gather the rotten fruit and proceed to pelt, consider the reasons: Aaron Lennon is now back to fitness, providing an alternative on the right; while 4-4-2, with Adebayor-Defoe as bona fide strikers, seems a darned sight more positive (and threatening) for a home game than 4-5-1 with VDV chipping in occasionally in midfield. Moreover, VDV does not seem capable of lasting more than an hour or so, a fact presumably entirely unrelated to his occasional appearances in the kebab house down the road from AANP Towers. That said however, be we 4-5-1 with VDV or 4-4-2 without, the Wenger brow will be etched with worry lines. As selection posers go, it’s rather a topper.
Selection Dilemma Part Deux: Walker – Corluka
Another possible pencil-chewing matter for our glorious leader is at right-back. Young Master Walker appears to be the incumbent at present, and the lad certainly enjoys pelting towards the opposition by-line at a rate of knots – but can he defend? “Adequate, But Not Without Mistakes” might not be good enough this afternoon. I guess the Walker-Corluka choice might also depend on whether Lennon or VDV is picked on the right wing, at which point this all becomes terrifically complicated. As ever, my preference would be Kaboul.
Elsewhere, a collective sigh of relief would no doubt echo around the Lane once it is confirmed that Ledley is fit to start again, and Sandro may well drop to the bench, in the interests of glorious, pulsating, all-out attack. This being what it is I presume there will be at least five goals, of which van Persie will presumably score one and VDV another, while the laws of science dictate that Adebayor will score, get sent off or both. In a nutshell, it really does contain just about as much excitement as is legal on a Sunday afternoon. Home win.
Presumably there were some onlookers last night so enraged by our inability to score as the game wore on last night that they tore up their season tickets at half-time, their apoplexy no doubt reaching such levels when we actually fell behind that they chopped off their own feet and howled for the entire team to be sacked. All things considered however it was fairly satisfactory stuff.For all our inability to score we plugged away in commendable fashion, boxes were ticked, pressure was applied, shots were shot. Indeed, that we fell behind was hardly due to any failing on our part (although I suppose Cudicini might have palmed away the free-kick in a manner less inviting of trouble).
Defoe and Giovani (just about) toddled off with ticks against their name, Lennon and Rose got used to the whole concept of green stuff underfoot and small white sphere once again, and, perhaps most pleasingly, Livermore and Carroll trundled through in fairly steady manner. It was not quite as smooth as a well-versed line delivered by a lounge-suit wearing silkworm at 9pm on Friday night, what with going behind to the Irish part-timers and all, but in the rich tapestry of Season 2011/12 it will be delineated as a fun, relatively low-key step in the right direction. Which, let’s face it, is tickety-boo. Roll on the big one.
A show of hands then, for all you honest souls who just a couple of weeks ago had descended into a panicked frenzy, charging around wailing prognostications of doom before leaping headfirst through the nearest window, as our lot lost the opening two games with all the gloomy emphasis of gravitationally-obsessed lead balloon.No real need to panic was there? Two shakes of a lamb’s tail – and three wholesome wins – later we find ourselves in the top six, and neatly perched like an eleven-man Mo Farah, on the shoulder of the leading lot, ready to burst for the line with bulging-eyed determination as appropriate. Moreover, unlike Master Farah, we have the advantage of a game in hand at home to Everton. All of which is infinitely better than a slap in the face with a wet fish, so someone dish out gold stars to our heroes, and pronto for their fine efforts of the last couple of weeks.
Nine-One! Nine-One!
Sheer Bloody-Minded Ruthlessness: Not Really Our Forte
Make no mistake, our keep-ball is at times so good I want to frame it and hang it on the wall of my living room, but when the cushion is only one goal I think the collective pulse-rates of north London would be helped if our heroes put their heads down, scored the goals of which they’re capable and put the game beyond reach. Still, all’s well that ends well (or begins well, as it transpired yesterday).
‘Arry’s Opportunity to Dabble in Early 20th Century French Sculpture
Young Walker deserves some extra pocket money, for his forward forays are beginning to generate the same ripple of excitement as those of Lennon, and while his defending is not exactly Ledley-esque he certainly lacks not in the commitment column.
On the debit side however, there was a reminder from BAE of his capacity to slip so effortlessly from laid-back to horizontal that he forgets his raison d’etre and starts inviting pressure upon the Tottenham goal rather than the opposite.
L’Arse At Home. Bring It On
Still, he is an improved performer, and these are improved performances. They could be improved further – that clinical, ruthless edge could be added for a start – but Wolves away, Liverpool at home and Wigan away have been taken care of despite being eminently loseable one and all. Even with the usual glut of injuries, our starting eleven now oozes quality in every position, a situation that will only be enhanced by the returns of Defoe, Lennon, Hudd and Daws. It is all dreadfully exciting stuff – and lip-smackingly enough, l’Arse at home are next up…
(An early preview, as I’m off on a fresh gallivant this weekend). An air of equanimity has pervaded AANP Towers these last few weeks, even as Wellbeck, Dzeko et al were rippling our net from all angles, for those openers were two games from which few if any points could be expected. The season starts now.Actually, Wolves are themselves a tiny speck in the distance that is the Premiership summit, but nevertheless, beaten they must be. Conventional wisdom suggests that, being away from home, this will be a tricky one, but the dimensions of the pitch are the same and the ball is still round, so no excuses from our lot. Three points please, and not a jot less.
Having bleated relentlessly for 18 months about our lack of a decent striker it is now finally time to reap the dividends. VDV is out for six weeks, but one would nevertheless expect that we have sufficient quality to outgun this mob, with Parker also added to a mix that still includes Modders, Bale, Lennon, Defoe etc. Quite what formation will be adopted is something for ‘Arry to ponder, but the absence of VDV might conveniently allow for a five-man midfield including Parker, Modders and Hudd.
Whatever the personnel or formation, this had ruddy well better bring three points, or we really will have some cause for concern.
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.
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.
Rejoice, all ye fellow lilywhites. Admittedly it is also with a degree of trepidation (Old Trafford will do that to a Spurs fan) but goodness me it is wonderful finally to be able to look forward to Spurs in Premiership action tonight. ‘Tis with delight therefore that I invite you to gather round and peruse with me the permutations of team selection for the evening’s festivities.Goalkeeper
Right-Back? Kaboul?
BAE at left-back and Daws as half of the centre-back combo pick themselves; thereafter it becomes a bit tricky. Kaboul would be the obvious partner for Daws, given the absences of Gallas and Ledley, but what of right-back? Kyle Walker began against Hearts, but a Europa qualifier is a vastly different kettle of fish from a Premiership game away to the champions. Although I’m not quite sure where he was hiding last Thursday, I suspect that if fit Corluka will get the nod, so we can all enjoy the sight of him waddling along in the puff of smoke that Ashley Young leaves behind. Personally I’d go with Kaboul over any of the others at right-back.
Holding Midfielder? Kaboul?
No doubt ‘Arry, Joe Jordan and chums have been chuckling away to themselves at the irony of the fact that we possibly have more central midfielders in our squad than any other team in the Premiership, yet not a single one is fit for tonight. Ah, the hilarity! Livermore and Kranjcar then, I suppose. However, if ‘Arry wants someone with a bit of snap in central midfield the options are either sticking a jersey on Joe Jordan’s back and shoving him out there, or going with… Kaboul?
No Modders tonight, apparently “his head isn’t right”, which is an excuse I must try with my boss next time I just don’t fancy a day at the office. Still, where there is Bale and Lennon there is hope.
Attack? (Maybe Not Kaboul This Time)
The Other Lot
Moreover, United have thrown oodles of cash at a new goalkeeper who at best looks like he’d rather not be the chap hovering between the two big white sticks. De Gea will presumably prove his worth soon enough, but in his two appearances so far this season, as well as looking a few weeks shy of his 14th birthday and committing a crime against facial hair, he has displayed what appears to be a rather untimely allergy to ball. Apparently the lad also conceded a dozen or so goals from outside the area last season – and on a marvellously serendipitous note I read this morning that we scored more than any other team from outside the area last season…
It would be rather stretching the facts a mite to suggest that United are therefore there for the taking, but circumstances might be more favourable tonight than usual. Let the madness begin.