Tag: Man Utd

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Man United – Spurs Carling Cup Preview: Selling My Soul

Ah, Man Utd versus Spurs. Two giants of the game, under the floodlights, in a one-off knock-out contest. It reminds me of when England played Brazil in the 2002 World Cup quarter-final. Then, the meeting of two sides with so much history behind them provided a unique buzz of anticipation, and seemed to epitomise precisely what the competition was about. And now, Manchester United play Tottenham Hotspur. It’s a classic Cup tie.Except it isn’t really. It’s the Carling Cup, by far the lowest of Alex Ferguson’s priorities, and now a sideshow at White Hart Lane.

Wellbeck and Gibson

Man Utd sent out the minions for a Champions League game last week, so a Carling Cup quarter-final is unlikely to herald the appearance of the big guns. In fact, even when we met in the Final last year, they had such household names as Wellbeck and Gibson in their starting line-up. Nevertheless, they still beat us, and their second-string tomorrow is likely to be pretty strong again. (Nor should we expect too many favours from the officials, this being Old Trafford…)

’Arry for his part has also pledged to empty the contents of the substitutes bench out onto the turf. Keane, Pav, Bentley, Bale, Jenas and Hutton could all feature – which is fine by me, to be honest. They are all capable enough, having all been first-team regulars at some point or other.

Dawson and Bassong will presumably start again in defence, which is a silver lining to the murky cloud under which Ledley and Woodgate hobble around. The Daws-Bassong combo worked well on Saturday, in only their second game together, and another 90 minutes will give them a chance to develop further. It could be the start of something beautiful.

The in-form Kranjcar is cup-tied – curses – but my main concern is that we may well start without both Defoe and Lennon, both of whose pace and sharpness in recent weeks have given us a real cutting-edge going forward. Many a time and oft these days I can be spotted gazing misty-eyed into the distance; on such occasions it is a fairly safe bet that I’m wondering what might have been if we had had these two for the visit to the Emirates last month…

The Days of Yore: Over 

The lure of silverware is still strong of course, for all the usual reasons (another etching on the honours board; another reason to crow over l’Arse; and it’s just plain ruddy marvellous to win trophies), but now the situation is undoubtedly different. We are not just pushing for UEFA Cup qualification any more; the days of yore are over. They ended around the time we beat Sunderland and moved into fourth by more than just goal difference. The sentiment at AANP Towers has now altered, as we have begun to look genuine contenders for the fourth Champions League spot. It’s like leaving behind the blissful innocence of childhood – but discovering the wondrous joys of the liquor.

Not only that, but we are in the driving-seat for fourth. And this isn’t one of those anomalous late-August League tables, where we top the pile but only on goal difference from Stoke – a third of the way in, and we are as well-placed as anyone to take fourth. I have to admit, I would trade quarter-final Carling Cup elimination if it would help our Premiership campaign.

I Feel Unclean 

An involuntary shudder passes down the spine as I type that, for I do feel sordid in admitting it. Out, damned spot. We are Tottenham Hotspur, and as such we have a glorious tradition. Winning the FA Cup in 1901, the first post-war team to win the Double, the first British team to win a European trophy… and so on. [**Shameless plug – our glorious tradition will be lovingly covered by AANP in forthcoming book

Spurs’ Cult Heroes, out next Feb**] Preferring to finish fourth in the League over winning a trophy – my own family would struggle to recognise me. It’s selling my soul. ‘Tis a dark, dark day at AANP Towers.Still, that’s one man’s opinion. “Judge me not by the heights to which I aspire, but by the depths from whence I’ve come” (if you pardon a little vulgarisation of the quote) – for we’ve already shown we can master the dark arts of the Carling Cup, over the last two seasons. This certainly represents firm progress from a decade ago, when our heroes seemed unable to put one foot in front of the other without stumbling over, while the other lot racked up trophies like they were going out of fashion. We are finally moving in the right direction, having won the Carling Cup and gained European experience. Now we have an opportunity to take the next step forward. Success in the Carling Cup once again would be cracking, but qualifying for the Champions League is now the target, and much though it pains me to admit it, anything else would seem a mite anti-climactic.

Still A Cracking Chance For Glory 

 

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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, Jurgen Klinsmann here

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Spurs 5-0 Burnley: Keane Sticks Four Fingers Up At Doubters

Curiously, our most emphatic win in recent years was achieved without us ever really hitting top gear. There were some moments at the end of the first half when we played true champagne football, and Defoe might have finished off a couple of moves so pleasing on the eye they ought to have been put on canvass and stuck in a gallery. Aside from that however, it was generally a little sloppy and lacking in fluency. You know the sort of thing – mis-placed passes and lack of movement. It was most noticeable in the slightly lethargic start to the second half, which might have been punished by better teams.Ah, who else but a Spurs fan could find room for complaint after a second five-goal salvo in a week? We may not have hit top gear, but there was no real need. While Jenas’ goal had a touch of fortune about it, we scored four others and created plenty more chances besides. The third goal effectively ended the contest, but I suspect we would have raised our game if it had been necessary to do so. Winning 5-0 when playing within ourselves is quite an achievement.

Keane Silences The Bloke Behind Me Who Was Laying Into Him In The First Half

Robbie Keane’s doubters have been given some food for thought. Scepticism about his finishing ability – much of which has emanated from AANP Towers, I must confess – was fairly emphatically addressed today, albeit after he had had saved a first half one-on-one. Another concern since he rejoined us has been that he spends too much time dropping into midfield, where he mixes industry with incessant moaning at anyone in his line of vision, rather than operating as one of a pair in attack. Indeed, at times in the first half he was at it again, buzzing dementedly around midfield areas; but this seemed to change once Defoe went off. Thereafter we were treated to the welcome sight of the Irishman rolling back the years and scampering straight up the middle at the head of the attack whenever we broke forward.

Fear not however, all ye Keane critics – while I’m not sure of the extent of Defoe’s injury, it can be assumed that he will retain his place in the team when fit, meaning that Keane will presumably revert back to his slightly deeper role, and there will be opportunities anew to moan, grumble and raucously curse the man. Hopefully though, he’ll never be stuck out on the left again.

First Impressions of Kranjcar

Our first chance to cast beady eyes on the boy Kranjcar. First impressions are that he is decent enough, without threatening ever to blow up anyone’s skirt. More Corluka than Modric, notably in that lumbering running style of a man attempting to get around while a rope around his waist drags behind him a set of tyres. He certainly seems happy enough to get forward, but his phobia of the touchline might need to be addressed, and his right-footedness leaves the team still looking a little lop-sided sans Modric.

Elsewhere On The Pitch…

I was pleasantly surprised to see Bassong start at the back. When he was stretchered off last week he looked so badly beaten up he seemed for all the world a man about to be euthanized – yet he was full of beans today, and from my vantage-point did not appear to put a foot wrong. Nor did Assou-Ekotto, although it was disappointing to see there was no foundation to rumours that he was once again sporting the ‘fro.

The Hudd just about coped with the rigours of central defence. Although culpable for the disallowed Burnley goal in the first half, he rather appeared to enjoy himself in the latter stages, bringing the ball out of defence with aplomb. I hesitate to suggest that he would handle the likes of Drogba and Torres with any comfort, but for the next few weeks he ought to do the job.

Cudicini had a rather wobbly moment however, his loss of concentration almost gifting Burnley a goal. With Gomes back to fitness, Cudicini’s every move will be under the microscope now. That said, ‘tis pleasing to note our first clean-sheet of the season.

By the closing stages it had turned into something of an exhibition match. Hudd started rolling out his Beckenbauer impressions. Bale was brought on to break his non-winning Premiership hoodoo. Dawson was ushered back into the fold. (Bentley was nowhere to be seen). Chas’n’Dave were honoured in fittingly unmelodic fashion. News of the Chelski result prompted another celebratory cheer. It may not have been a bravura performance, but we natives departed contentedly enough.

How The Blazes Did Burnely Beat Man Utd A Few Weeks Back?

Finally, a word or two on our vanquished opponents. A couple of weeks ago Man Utd came to town and were sublime; Burnely were ruddy awful. Quite how they beat the champions last month is beyond me, because at times they displayed basic technique so bad they resembled a pub team. If there was an opportunity to mis-kick they mis-kicked; if a pass could be mis-placed they duly pinged it miles off target. Presumably they are a much better team than they showed today, and we can expect a much tougher test at Turf Moor later in the season, but their efforts did much today to lull us into a quite appropriate sense of security. Still, our players had to trot out there and beat them, and did so with plenty to spare. Top-six form, at least.

 

Your memories are still welcomed here on Ossie Ardiles and Ricky Villa, the latest to be featured in forthcoming book Spurs’ Cult Heroes. Feel free to contribute your memories – or browse those of others – on Jimmy Greaves here, Clive Allen here, Jurgen Klinsmann here, Gary Mabbutt here or Graham Roberts here

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Barca – Man Utd Champions League Final Preview: All Action, Please

Ah The Champions League. That inescapable anthem. The meaningless group games. The same teams each year – some of whom actually are indeed national champions. And money, everywhere. Advertising money. TV money. Salaries. Transfer fees.The All-Action Way

With this thick layer of cynicism building up around the Champions League I find it genuinely refreshing to look forward to tonight’s game. Two teams who generally play the right way. The all-action way, full of movement, interchanging and technique that has grown men drooling.

It’s all action for sure, but, at least in Man Utd’s case, there is a darned good idea of plot too, in the form of Rio and the Serbian psycho, protected by the beaverish midfield three. The excellent Radio 5 Live preview last night made an interesting point, namely that in the absence of their suspended, ridiculously over-attacking full-backs – Abidal and Alves – Barca will be forced to field a couple of understudies at right and left-back, and therefore might be more cautious, and consequently a darned sight tighter at the back than they usually are. Interesting point.

Other sub-plots of note: Van der Saar has gone all Obi Wan Kenobi – an old man, whose powers are waning. His flaps and fumbles are increasing in frequency. I’m not convinced that Giggs is an adequate understudy to Fletcher in the role of midfield hustler-and-harrier. Barca’s insistence on passing to death outside the area rather than have a pop from distance (an affliction which curiously hampered Spurs in the spring months) has generally proved detrimental to their cause against English opposition. Pretty to watch though.

Early Goal, Please

Naturally, there is the worry that after all the anticipation, this game degenerates into a dour, disappointing affair. However, an early goal ought to do the trick, and really open up the game. Although last year’s final was watched through an increasingly hazy cloud of alcohol, I do recall it being a generally entertaining affair – thanks, in no small part, to the early-ish opening goal. A pleasant contrast to the FA Cup Final between the same two teams the previous year.

Rooting For Man Utd. Sort Of.

I won’t particularly mind who wins, as it doesn’t concern Spurs, but I suppose I’ll be edging towards Man Utd. As with many of the greatest arguments of mankind, my reasons are threefold:

1) The patriot in me always likes to see English teams win European trophies. (Unless it’s l’Arse. Or Chelski).

2) Rooney. The man’s a genius, and I’d love to see him boss the game of games.

3) Generally a fan of the Man Utd style of play. Liquid football. In last year’s Champs League Final they produced one of my favourite pieces of football ever – Rooney picked up the ball at right-back (!), motored forward 40 yards, then pinged a diagonal cross-field peach of a ball to Ronaldo, who pulled it back for Tevez (I think) to diving head, saved by Cech, before Carrick blasted the rebound goalwards, where it was headed clear by a defender. Or something like that (alcoholic haze, remember). Absolutely awesome football. I just stood there ogling, as if it were a svelte brunette tying knots in a cherry stalk with her tongue.

Then in the semi vs l’Arse there was something similarly mesmeric in Ronaldo’s second goal – the backheel, Park’s burst, Rooney’s perfect pass, and Ronaldo again, sixty yards from his starting-point, finishing it.

More of the same tonight please.