Tag: One Aaron Lennon

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Spurs rants

Modric, Palacios, Jenas, Hudd – The Midfield Conundrum

There’s a great big Uefa Cup-shaped hole in my life at the moment. Instead of working myself into a frenzy of midweek worry, pessimism and nerves, I’ve been at a loss for something to stimulate the usual heart palpitations. Had to resort to half-heartedly watching Liverpool in the Champions League, throwing stones at small garden animals and generally twiddling my thumbs.Listening to England’s heroic failure in the Test Match served as a gentle reminder of the life of a Spurs fan, but generally this cold-turkey approach to the lack of Uefa Cup has not been a bundle of fun. However, I have endeavoured to use the time constructively. With no cup games, midweek distractions or ineligibility mazes to navigate we have the opportunity to settle upon fairly consistent team selection over the remaining ten games in the season. The permutations in defence remain numerous, but something approaching repetition has occurred across the middle, with Lennon on the right and Modric wide left, flanking Jenas and Palacios in the centre.

The Midfield Conundrum 

First things first – no-one in their right mind would question the eligibility of Palacios for a central midfield berth. Not to put any pressure on the lad, but if I ever bump into him I’ll pull out a pen-knife and scratch the words “our saviour” all over his face, but backwards, so that he’ll be reminded every time he looks into a mirror.

With that out of the way I turn to Jenas. Is this really the man we ideally want complementing Palacios? He has the appropriate attacking mentality to go alongside Palacios – far better him than, say, do-do-do-Didier. However, to put it diplomatically, he has not exactly made mind-bogglingly stunning progress since his emergence as a precocious under-21 starlet all those years back. (There, I did it – a full sentence about Jermaine Jenas without any hint of rage or vitriol. I demand a gold star).

More pointedly, deploying Jenas in the centre shunts Modders out to the left, where his impact is undoubtedly diminished. In the grossest practical terms, he’s got less pitch to play on when assigned to the wing. He may weigh less than his own shadow, but the guy is patently a class above the rest. Give him a central role, the freedom of the pitch, the freedom of North London. Our team ought to be built around him.

A Modric-Palacios centre would therefore leave us needing someone on the left. I’ll resist the urge to grumble about the sale of Steed, dagnabbit, and instead examine those who are still keeping the bench warm at the Lane. Brylcreem Bentley, Three-Touch O’ Hara, the genetic experiment that is Bale – even Jenas himself… Personally however I’d give young Giovani a run of games and see what he’s made of, but I get the impression that ‘Arry would rather organise six fixtures a day for the rest of the year than let Giovani establish himself.

Scarily, if no solution is decided upon, by default we’ll end up with One-Trick Downing this summer, fro around £13.9 million more than he’s worth. For that we could buy back several Steeds, or, dreamily, maybe even pinch Joe Cole.

Hypotheticals aside, the question from now until the end of the season revolves around what is preferable – Palacios-Modric in the centre, and A.N. Other wide left; or Palacios-Jenas in the centre and Modric wide left? I vote for the former.

Where Does This Leave Hudd? 

I fall into the latter camp, regrettably so as I have minimal patience with fat people (JUST EAT LESS). When he first emerged I had Hudd down as Carrick Mark II, a player who could feint his way out of trouble with a dip of the shoulder, pick passes dripping in gold and strike a shot with the force of an exocet missile. Far too often however, his passes go astray, although a healthy portion of blame here should go to team-mates’ lack of movement.

Still, the frustration remains. He’s not a tackler, runner or dribbler, and does not have the energy to compensate for mistakes. He most certainly has the capacity to boss games, but too often this only seems to happen when  we’re already two goals up (whereas, for example, Modric seems to dictate games far more regularly). Hoddle or Ginola may have been deemed by many to be luxury players, but they were regularly genuine match-winners too. How often have we said this of Hudd? How often are we likely to say this of Hudd, particularly in the bigger games?

Strange how I have found myself mulling this point because of the absence of European football – the precise stage upon which I reckon Hudd is best suited. Lovely bit of irony with which to wrap up. Tally-ho.

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Spurs match reports

Sunderland 1-1 Spurs: Unknown Territory

Confusion reigns amongst the great and good of Tottenham after yesterday’s draw, with no-one quite sure how to react. Typically, reactions at the Lane must be of massively unrealistic expectation or miserable pessimism and criticism, as previously articulated. There is never any middle ground.The draw at Sunderland has therefore baffled everyone.  A one-one draw, in a gentle, early-March, mid-table encounter simply does not incite any passion. It leaves us 5 points off both relegation and Europe. Neither here nor there. Confused middle-aged men have been forced to stifle their foul-mouthed tirades, because it really wasn’t such a bad result. Earnestly schoolboys have opted against delivering their deluded predictions of glory, because a serene draw with Sunderland does little to suggest we’ve evolved into world-beaters. Instead, worried children turn beseechingly to their parents for guidance, for there is no obvious wild over-reaction to give to yesterday’s result. This is unknown territory for a Spurs fan.

I’m as clueless as everyone else. I have season tickets on both the We’re-Doomed and the We’ve-Turned-The-Corner bandwagons, and am happy to alight one and hop onto the other with shameless fickleness. This time though I find myself stranded, in the middle of the road. On days like this it does not even feel right to lay into Jenas.

Whatever the expectations prior to kick-off, the team deserves credit for salvaging a draw away from home, having conceded such an early goal. The frustrating use of Modric on the left continued, with the presence of Steed in the opposition ranks heightening the irritation. Aaron Lennon maintained his record of drawing a yellow card from his opposing left-back, without producing any final product of particular menace. The incongruous combination of the lumbering Corluka and the fleet-footed Lennon on the right has me eagerly checking Alan Hutton’s rehabilitation programme. Gomes invoked the ghost of autumn 2008 with a good old-fashioned flap. Keane’s second goal in a week  continues to eradicate memories of that whole Merseyside foray, while dredging up again the issue of how he and Defoe will fit together.

Interesting to observe that so much of Sunderland’s creativity emanated from ex-lilywhites Steed Malbranque and the rotund Andy Reid, who appeared to have ambled onto the pitch directly from his seat at an all-you-can-eat buffet. In fact, Andy Reid struck me as what would happen if Steed ate someone whole. Kenwyne Jones, a Tottenham target past and, presumably, future was solid, aerially adept and generally unspectacular. In fact the whole game was rather unspectacular, but nevertheless left us all with smiles on our faces, the last-minute equaliser naturally feeling loosely like a victory.

In keeping with the peculiar gentleness of yesterday’s game, there now follows a brief lull until our next fixture. No midweek cup games, no ineligible players, no moaning from ‘Arry about how unfair it all is (although one suspects he’ll find a way). Ten games left, and with it still not obvious whether we’re moving into a European chase or relegation fight, the season continues to simmer away nicely.

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 4-0 Middlesbrough: Humble Pie – Mmmm, Tasty…

I write this with crumbs on my lips and a napkin gently dabbing around my mouth, having merrily lunched upon several large helpings of humble pie. As I clicked my heels all bonny, blithe and gay, and playfully pinched the cheeks of bewildered small children like a modern-day Scrooge (post-enlightenment), I also began the quest for an edible hat – for Mystic Meg I clearly ain’t: 

Should a performance of similar quality [to the Carling Cup final] be produced against Boro tonight I’ll go buy a hat and eat it… While it would be lovely to see us produce one of those opening-20-minute-blitzes which occur at the Lane every few months, a dour, scrappy affair strikes me as far likelier… 

 – Me, yesterday.That screeching of tyres you hear is my credibility leaving the building and driving away at pace, never to return. Whilst pondering how best to digest a beenie I have taken time out to ponder how on earth was every other Spurs fan I know (and many I don’t) so sure that we’d follow up the Wembley performance with such an emphatic win? Admittedly it made a fair amount of logical sense – combining the confidence from an excellent display and the wrath of an unlucky penalty defeat, and taking that into a home game against one of the division’s more insipid outfits. But Spurs have never done it the logical way, and this season in particular we’ve failed to follow up strong performances against the top four with similar quality against the weaker sides.

It reminds me of a time about ten years ago when I sat watching l’Arse in a Uefa cup final, or perhaps semi, which had gone to pens. As Viera stepped up all the gooners in the room immediately flung up their hands in despair, conceded any hope of him scoring and assured us most confidently that he would hit the crossbar. A rather specific, and somewhat unlikely claim, I thought, as there were vast amounts of space into which to fire the ball – but sure enough he cracked it against the bar.

Yesterday, again, somehow everyone else knew. Most crucially, the players were also privy to this inside knowledge. Take that attitude, that fiery combination of smarting injustice and confidence in their ability, into the rest of their games and the relegation mix will be so far away we’ll be sending postcards and adjusting watches to a different time-zone.

It would be wonderfully typical of a Spurs supporter now to swing from the doleful pessimism of just 24 hours ago to a wildly over-optimistic assurance that seventh, and the Uefa (Europa? Whatever) cup is now within reach. I shall strive to resist quite such fantastical predictions, tempting though it is to get carried away after last night (allow me to indulge dreamily for just a moment though – did you see how many passes were strung together before the third goal? Champagne football, baby!)

Whilst mathematically possible, excited ramblings about European qualification probably ought to be stifled. We’re still a long way off, and while there is now clear evidence in black and white that consecutive league wins is good for your health, 8 points in 11 games is a big gap to close. Moreover, there’s no guarantee that we will avoid returning to the inconsistency of days recently gone by.  To be honest though, I’m not sure how long I can keep my lips sealed on the issue of making Europe. The more I look at the league table…

For now I think we should all just be happy to bask in the glory of last night. A 4-0 without actually hitting our highest standard. Thirteenth in the table, consecutive league wins and a goal difference that is no longer negative. As Sarah Connor so concisely put it at the end of Terminator 2 – “The unknown future rolls toward us. I face it, for the first time, with a sense of hope…”

It was a bit of a return to the all-action-no-plot days of yore. Slightly shaky defence, but some lovely bits and pieces going forward, with Modric, Keane and Lennon to the fore. Palacios continues to improve the team. Three-Touch O’ Hara got a grand old ovation. All was right with the world. Plus, a special pat on the back too for ‘Arry, who, admirably, once again managed to slip his own personal catchphrase into the post-match interview – “We only ‘ad two points when I took over…”

Happy days. Humble pie has never tasted so good.

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Spurs match reports

Carling Cup Final – Spurs 0-0 Man Utd aet (1-4 on pens): Depressed, But Philosophical

First things first – credit to Three-Touch O’ Hara and Brylcreem Bentley for volunteering for the first and third pens. The execution from each was hopeless, but the sentiment was noble. Conspiracy theorists dredging up “ex-gooner” rants can go boil their heads.Second things second – the outcome was fair, and I emphasise that I have no ground for dissent, but I’ll maintain to my dying day that John O’ Shea should have been sent off in the second half of normal time. Irritatingly I was wearing my thoroughly partisan Spurs hat when the heinous offence occurred, so I really could not quote the minute, manner or general spatio-temporal area. However, having been cautioned in the first half he merrily scythed down Modric ( I think), and got away with little more than a moody glare from referee, and bottler-in-chief, Chris Hoy. Had he not been cautioned earlier O’ Shea most certainly would have been cautioned for the particular offence. Tottenham, being Tottenham, would undoubtedly have failed to break down ten men, so I won’t suggest that as an excuse/reason for our eventual failure to draw a bank against eleven men, but I nevertheless cantankerously grumble at Mr Hoy.

Third things third – I reckon the ref actually got the Ronaldo penalty claim right, albeit on a technicality. The first offence was Ronaldo executing the first part of a dive. The second offence was Ledley clipping him. I doubt that bottle-job Foy saw it that way – I presume he saw it as a dive from start to finish – but in the strictest sense I consider that Foy stumbled upon the correct decision, albeit by accident rather than design. The first offence was a dive. If Little Miss Ronaldo had stayed on his feet rather than looking for the dive then he ought to have been awarded a pen.

Fourth things fourth – did Woody really turn an ankle by falling down the stairs of the team hotel?

Those are moot points. Frankly, it struck me as a fair enough result. My gripe, again, tediously, is the damned insistence upon 4-5-fricking-1. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY??? With no strikers on the bench it was always a slightly tough call, and Pav did not exactly have a blinder, but withdrawing him after 70, with extra-time looming, was madness on a par with David Icke’s push for celestial pre-eminence. The game-plan was working relatively well, following an excessively wobbly opening 25 mins, so why take off a striker? Switching from 4-4-2 to 4-5-1 simply removed any hope we might have had of bludgeoning down the fantastically-marshalled Man Utd rearguard.

Any attack we mounted thereafter left Bent on his own against three or more defenders. No logic to that one – Bent would struggle against a single defender with one leg and no eyes. Even when we were gifted possession and able to counter-attack we were nowhere near a numerical advantage. I’m blessed with a small forehead and a thick head of hair, and as such I’m unlikely ever to go bald. This allowed me to pull my hair out without any concern for long-term aesthetic devaluation, so I was able to yank out great big clumps without any obvious effect upon my unkempt mop. Mind you, several vital organs – including, notably, the heart – suffered considerable damage as one aimless ball after another was lofted hopelessly towards big, bad, misfiring Dazza, on his own, practising that Darren Bent look. You know the one – confused, hurt, hands half-raised towards the head.

I suppose it would have made little difference to a game that had “draw” tattooed across ever spare inch of it. Lennon and Modric, as expected, were the source of everything good in lilywhite. Bent had a half-chance of glory, but being Bent it simply was not ordained by the gods. Their ‘keeper, that Foster lad, played a blinder, irritatingly. Little Miss Ronaldo almost broke our hearts in the cruellest possible fashion after 92-and-a-half of the 93 minutes. But all told, it was pretty even.

A final point. Apparently, as the teams prepared for pens, United keeper Foster had a quick peek at an iPod showing Spurs players’ previous pens. The first of which was Three-Touch O’Hara thwacking one to the right – now there’s a coincidence. No idea what Gomes was up to at that point. Probably practising that stand-on-the-spot-and-stick-out-an-arm dance routine. Nothing wrong with a full-stretch dive, Heurelho. Maybe those are the margins.

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 0 – 0 Arsenal: Suppressing The Urge To Throttle A Small Puppy

Same old, same old. You’d think that after a couple of decades and probably the best part of a thousand games it would be a bit easier to stomach, but no, Spurs’ capacity to frustrate remains unparalleled. Yet again, come the final whistle I was left looking around for a small puppy or irritating child to throttle.A usual gripe of mine is that we are playthings of the footballing gods, as flies to wanton boys and all that. Yesterday however, the footballing gods even took pity on us and gave us a couple of helping hands – disallowed goal for l’Arse which other refs might have permitted, Adebayor and his hammie, Eboue and his red card (nb Oh the hilarity of Eboue’s red! After the ostentatious embraces and words of comfort for Modric, when Eboue thought he’d got away with it, then to see him summoned back and sent packing – genius!). It really was set up for us on a plate. In fact, it was being spoon-fed to us. By half-time I had ventured from my private little pit of pessimism and was actually rather looking forward to the second half. The footballing gods, their work done, put their feet up to enjoy the spectacle. The gooners in the crowd, captured on tv, looked suitably morose. All was right with the world.

Sigh. One esteemed custodian of the interweb describes it as a kind of purgatory. Personally I see Tottenham as similar to women – intensely frustrating, with an adamant refusal to do things the simple way. A breed that seem to delight in complicating things solely in order to drive me to madness. And yet, I keep going back for more torture.

Despite the lack of cutting edge, it was not a bad display from us. In the early stages, of eleven vs eleven we seemed to be a bit sharper than they, the work-rate and team ethic an improvement upon much that has gone before this season. ‘Arry recently pointed to the attitude of Carlos Tevez as an example our players would do well to follow – of constantly harassing their man in possession, until this possession is eventually surrendered. At times yesterday, in patches, something akin to this could be seen from our lot, even as I pinched myself. Maybe it’s the start of a brave new era, and the arrival of a more determined mentality. Or maybe it’s just the perennial improved attitude for the game vs l’Arse, to be replaced next week with the usual lethargy.

Much of the credit for the high tempo of the early stages in particular must go to soon-to-be firm crowd favourite Wilson Palacios. For many this would have been our first good look at him, and, whisper it, he showed enough to suggest that he might be, you know, the one. The answer. If White Hart Lane is The Matrix, this guy could be our Keanu Reeves. Unless he goes off the boil like the second and third Matrix films. Anyway, either Palacios is possessed off rather extremely impressive energy levels, or he reads the game particularly well (maybe a generous dollop of both), as every time an Arse midfielder broke with the ball in the first half he seemed to be ready to greet him with snarl, foam at mouth, barrel chest and crunching tackle. He rather enjoys a foray forward too, and one gets the impression that he’ll be a lot more effective in the final third than do-do-do-Didier. I should probably also add a disclaimer that the screen on which I was watching was a little short on brightness and visibility, so it’s quite possible that every time Jenas did anything useful in the centre I automatically attributed it to Palacios.

However, as with Keanu in the early part of the film, Palacios still has room for improvement. The odd misplaced pass, and a typical piece of shambolic Tottenham marking from a corner that ought really to have seen Song score. Still, it’s only a matter of time before he becomes the complete midfielder, turns us into a top-four team and sees everything as little columns of green numbers.

Until the final minute we didn’t create a clear-cut chance, but prior to that Lennon, Modric, Keane and Pav all had opportunities which weren’t too far off. Credit to Taarabt for playing in Modric in the final minute, he weighted the pass well. And Modric, ah Modric. No-one misses on purpose, I suppose, but one of these days I really will throttle a puppy, and have some difficulty explaining it to the constabulary (“I know I’ve got a dead puppy in my hand, but it was the last minute, he was clean through…”)

 

nb – Many thanks to Lee, for the venue recommendation for yesterday’s game. Home from home.

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Spurs transfers

Spurs’ Transfer Window Doings Get The Thumbs Up

Believe it or not, back at the start of the transfer window most of the talk at the Lane was whether or not Stewart One-Trick Downing would dip his right shoulder, dart out to the left and pitch up in N17. Seems an age ago now, n’est-ce pas? And who would have possibly imagined back then, as we mixed over-strengthed home-made cocktails on 31 December 2008, that the mid-winter spending spree would end with Defoe, Keane and Chimbonda back in lilywhite? AANP peers back through the January transfer window and tries to make sense of the madness.Players In 

Pascal Chimbonda: Villainous human being, but versatile defender of good quality. Smart thinking, ‘Arry.

Wilson Palacios: Who knows? Haven’t seen enough of him to give an opinion, but hearsay suggests that this is a midfielder who can pass and tackle, pure and simple. As such, he ought to be the best thing since sliced bread, although on reflection, sliced bread really ain’t so special, presuming you possess your own knife. I digress. If the hype is true, Palacios will be our most important signing in years.

Jermain Defoe: Might not be the complete all-round striker, but by golly he can shoot – on target and with venom in his ickle size sixes. We need goals, he scores goals, value for money, QED. (see http://www.allactionnoplot.com/?p=196)

Robbie Keane: Controversial. In purely footballing terms he’s a good buy – but it’s so much more than a purely footballing buy with Keane (see http://www.allactionnoplot.com/?p=307).

Players out:

Hossam Ghaly: Probably in everyone’s best interests. We may be childish to hold a grudge for so long, but at least we can’t be accused of fickleness with this one. Unlikely ever to be re-signed.

Paul Stalteri: Served his purpose as a propaganda tool for ‘Arry, who gave him a squad number to show what a motivator he is, then never played him and sold him at the first opportunity.

Cesar Sanchez: Aka “that Spanish goalkeeper”. Might be world class for all we know, but I get the impression ‘Arry would have played Aaron Lennon in goal before picking this chap. He rather sums up the Wendy Ramos reign.

Still at the Lane… Just: Giovanni dos Santos: Alright, he’s only played about 5 minutes of football for us, but it would have been a mighty disappointment had his transfer to Pompey gone through. He’s young enough to improve, he presumably has flair (having come from some Spanish outfit called Barca), injuries have deprived him of a chance to prove himself and he’s supposedly a left-sided attacker. Commons sense suggests he needs another year to bed in and show what he’s about – so we can expect him to be jettisoned straight away in the summer.

Aaron Lennon: Ooh, I’d have caught a small tropical bird and strangled it if we’d traded off Lennon to Liverpool in a swap for Keane, as mooted in some circles. He may never be the player his promise suggests he ought to become, but he’s undoubtedly been one of our best in this season of general mediocrity.

Jermaine Jenas: Hilarious rumours of a move to Inter collapsed when it emerged that the basis for the story was that Jose Mourinho had picked him in his fantasy league team back in the summer. It makes much more sense.

David Bentley and his hair: Seems we can’t go selling off all the mirrors in the changing room just yet. Bentley was reportedly being offered as a slab of meat in any one of a number of deals (Keane, Jones, Downing) but with a loving flick of his fringe he’ll remain at the Lane for several months yet. His attitude has improved this month, it would be nice to see his form pick up proportionally.

Darren Bent: Despite his two-goal salvo at the weekend, despite the injury to Defoe, despite ‘Arry’s protestations that really he rated him all along , the feeling nevertheless persists that poor old Bent will be out the door first decent offer we get. That charming combination of an earnest, well-meaning attitude combined with chronic and almost comical displays of inability have started to remind me of Fawlty Towers’ Manuel.

Missed Targets 

Stewart One-Trick Downing: Was within a whisker of becoming ‘Arry’s first signing. His supporters claim he would give the side natural balance; his detractors – including yours truly – claim that he’s just not particularly good, and certainly not £15 mil worth of good.

Kenwyne Jones: Still yet to see him play (beyond MOTD highlights) but in theory he would have been a good idea, being a striker with a bit of physical presence. Sunderland boss Ricky Sbragia became so flustered he threatened to start crying and tell his Mum if we continued to pursue him, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see this story re-emerge in the summer.

Stephen Appiah: Did I imagine all this? Does the guy even exist? Newspapers, magazines, websites and flies on walls were unanimous in claiming that Appiah was having trial after trial with us throughout January – yet deadline day came and went, and there was no news on the chap. Not a murmur. A bit like Keyser Soze in The Usual Suspects – supposedly a bit important, but no-one’s seen him, no-one knows where he is, and like that… he’s gone.

Quaresma: Might have offered balance on the left, might have proved too much of a big girl’s blouse for the Premiership. Either way, he’s at Chelski now so we can all hate him.

The AANP Verdict 

In the style of Joaquim Phoenix’s character in Gladiator, on careful consideration I give this transfer window a thumbs up. Cudicini, Chimbonda, Defoe and (just about) Keane each represent good bits of business on their own criteria; while the failure to buy Downing strikes me as a lucky escape, and the retention of Giovanni (albeit by accident rather than design) pleases me. Having initially moaned about how difficult it is to buy decent players in January, it doesn’t surprise me that ‘Arry ended up splashing out the annual GDP of a small, third-world country, but I’m breathing a little more easily now than I was a month ago.

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Spurs preview

Burnely – Spurs Preview: Qualifying the Hard Way

Unknown territory tonight – a three-goal lead with 90 minutes remaining is a thing unheard of at N17, where we’re more used to desperate attempts to retrieve a one-goal deficit with 20 mins (or indeed just injury-time) to go.A 4-1 lead from the first leg against lower-league opposition means that we could do things the simple way – adopt a professional attitude, match Burnley’s work-rate and aggression, and score once or twice before half-time to breeze through. Yes, this would be a delightful means of securing a route to Wembley, and would be adopted by most teams with a modicum of common sense, the merest concept of sanity and any inclination to inject plot as well as action into its doings.

However, this is my beloved Tottenham. This is the team that lost an FA Cup Final through an own-goal the first time I ever watched them; the team that began a season with a  5-0-5 formation; that went 3-0 up against ten-men at half-time and lost 4-3; that sacked big scary Martin Jol (blessed be his name) and that paid £16 mil for Darren Bent. Common sense and sanity renewed their passports and left the premises long ago. No plot here, just action.

So, I apologise, but the penchant for under-achievement and self-destruction displayed so far this season (and indeed, on a general basis over the last two decades), have left me fearing a nail-biting, cardiac-arresting drama tonight. Whereas our normally reticent and unemotional American cousins have not stopped babbling on about hope and optimism for the future, I foresee only a lethargic and complacent performance, until, perhaps, shaken out of ineptitude by the concession of goals.

Across the pond, the newly-canonised one has been recommending that I adopt a more positive attitude towards tonight’s game: “On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.” Evidently St Obama did not catch the first 45 minutes of our first leg vs Burnely.

We’ll qualify, probably, but we’ll do it the hard way. I can certainly see us scraping through on aggregate by losing 3-1 or 4-2 on the night – it would be the Tottenham way. Burnley showed in the first half of the first leg that they can produce a decent performance, and in front of their own crowd, an early goal or two would be a nightmare. You can barter for a mortgage and then bet the whole lot on the fact that Spurs will need to concede at least once before they wake up and start playing.

The injury front is also a cause for concern. No Ledley is par for the course, but the absence of the increasingly-dependable Gomes and Corluka leaves the defence looking vulnerable, while Lennon, one of our likeliest match-winners on current form, is also out. Crikey, I’m even ruing the absence of Jenas.

However, once we’ve conceded two goals, woken from our reverie and the contest actually begins in earnest, there will be grounds for optimism. The injury to Lennon means a start for Bentley on the right, his natural home – this after a highly encouraging cameo at the weekend. Three-Touch O’Hara on the left will provide balance and graft, having produced arguably his finest performance in a Spurs shirt in the first leg against these same opponents. Unbelievably I find myself welcoming the return of the absurdly-coiffured Assou-Ekotto at left-back, on the grounds that human-simian hybrid Bale was run ragged last time out by Burnely winger Eagles. Indeed, even the absence of Corluka is likely to shunt Zokora into the right-back berth, a position in which he excelled vs Man Utd a few weeks back.

Fingers crossed that debutant Alnwick can cut it in goal, and that Hudd, if restored to central midfield, has discovered hitherto unknown capacities for tackling, sprinting and generally beavering away like a man possessed, because otherwise Burnely will swamp us in midfield.

I doubt that even we could implode to the extent of letting slip a 4-1 semi-final lead, but equally, I’d be amazed if we make light work of this.

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 1-1 Portsmouth: Denied by Philosophical Shot-Stopper

It was a pretty manic, all-action-no-plot match; a performance pleasingly high on commitment from every man in lilywhite; and, but for an irritatingly supreme performance from the Premiership’s self-styled philosopher-in-chief, David James, it would have had ended with three points in the bag.James had perplexingly taken to quoting completely irrelevant lines from Isaac Newton in the pre-game build-up, but appeared not to have neglected the day-job once on the pitch. Early on he was leaping at full-stretch to his left, to palm away a Ledley header. “Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination,” he could clearly be seen to mouth as he dusted himself off – “Oscar Wilde”. Moments later, as Defoe dived to head goalwards a Lennon cross, James tipped it over the bar, murmuring as he did so, “The luck of having talent is not enough; one must also have a talent for luck.”

In the second half James’ talent for luck became even more evident, with his snap-save to keep out a deflection from Lennon’s driven cross. “Illusory joy is often worth more than genuine sorrow,” whispered the Premiership’s resident academic , as the save led to a Pompey break which 15 seconds later saw Nugent score. “Kant!” screamed ‘Arry. “Descartes,” corrected James.

Although possession was frequently conceded, Spurs looked to have far better balance with Three-Touch O’ Hara out left, rather than Bentley and his hair-gel. Three-Touch’s presence also seemed to have a calming influence upon half-man-half-simian Gareth Bale, whose performance was less mistake-riddled than in recent weeks. No doubt having taken umbrage at the nickname ascribed to him at All-Action-No-Plot Towers, young O’ Hara did his best to dispel the accusation that he needs at least three touches when in possession – but alas, he seemed to have misunderstood the nature of the slight, and instead frequently resorted to five or six touches. Sterling performance, though, with generally decent distribution, and passion in the tackle.

Lennon’s willingness to cut infield as well as dip the shoulder and dart out wide caused problems for Belhadj, a very capable left-back. Encouragingly, Lennon’s performance also included a peach of a cross for Defoe, as noted above. Despite never lumbering beyond first gear, Corluka made a vital goal-saving intervention, as well as augmening attack to good effect.

The injury to Pav can apparently be filed under “Whingeing Foreigner” rather than “Out For The Season”, which will probably disappoint ‘Arry, who was no doubt straining at the leash for another excuse to bid £15 mil for more mediocre Premiership strikers. Meanwhile, the sight of Ledley limping off was dispiriting, but hardly surprising, for such is the plight of a man whose physique comprises feathers held together with blu-tac.

And so to Defoe. Bouyed by his success in the All-Action-No-Plot Haircut of 2008 category (see http://www.allactionnoplot.com/?p=161) the young man made an early bid to retain his crown with a Craig David circa ’99 effort, and also turned back the clock with his shoot-on-sight policy. The man has his detractors, and is accused of limited ability, but I’m a big fan of his penchant for regularly shooting on target, and generally with some power. Forcing the ‘keeper to make a save invites success at any level. Today, he was unfortunate to come up against a full-time philosopher with a line in breathtaking saves, but oh that Darren Bent would adopt a similar hit-the-target-and-see approach…

Defoe’s efforts were ultimately rewarded with the equalising goal (leaving James to muse with sadness “If you can meet with triumph and disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same…”). Our pressure merited a winner, and but for Bent’s awful sense of geography would have done so, but the manner of the performance gives cause for optimism. Consummatum est, as David James no doubt mused at full-time.

Categories
Spurs preview

Spurs – Burnely preview: What an Opportunity

What an opportunity this is. While pundits, players and ‘Arry will trot out one cliché after another about the risks of playing a rubbish team in a cup blah blah blah, there’s no escaping the fact that Burnley over two legs is a glorious opportunity for us to get to Wembley. Yes, they knocked out Chelski and l’Arse (kids) en route to this semi; and yes, we’re an underperforming outfit these days. Nevertheless, this is a team in the division below us. Moreover, should we have a bad day, or should they produce a particularly inspired performance, we have a safety net by virtue of the fact that this is a two-legged tie. Even at my most pessimistic I can’t see us messing this up, not over two legs.Defoe is to be paraded before kick-off, like some sort of circus attraction, which ought to whip the crowd into a frenzy. I’m also confident that this spirit of goodwill will give birth to a ripple of applause when the dastardly Hossam Ghaly’s name is read out, which ought to be sufficient to drown out the odd isolated boo. If we get a goal in the first 30 mins the roof will come off (I know, I know – there is no roof) and we’ll produce a breathtaking, all-action-no-plot display to give us a six-goal cushion for the second leg (or, more realistically, both crowd and players will settle back into a dangerous level of complacency which we’ll come to regret in the return leg in a fortnight’s time). Either way, I’m confident we can put the tie beyond doubt tonight, especially if Burnley commit men forward in search of an away goal.

Team news is that Assou-Ekotto and his blank stare and mentalist afro is suspended, as is Jenas. I can think of worse news in the build-up to a game. More worryingly, Ledley is stuck together with safety pins and sellotape again, but Dawson has rediscovered his form in recent weeks, and Woodgate completes a sturdy looking centre-back pair, while Gomes is in tip-top form in goal. The absence of Bent leaves us with limited striking options, but with Modric and Lennon looking dangerous we’ve got goals in us.

A little depressingly, this is the highlight of our season, and as such I expect a very strong performance – and hopefully something like a two-goal win. Or is that too optimistic?

Categories
Spurs transfers

So long, suckers… Who might ‘Arry offload in January?

A dog is for life, not just for Christmas – but thankfully a rubbish foreign left-back can be offloaded in the January sales. Having already cast a beady, all-action-no-plot eye over the possible arrivals at N17 next month, here’s a cursory glance at those who might have pulled on the famous lilywhite for the last time…

 

Gilberto – This Brazilian international (I jest ye not) was publicly sacked by ‘Arry after the egregiously bad error vs Spartak. Seemingly the latest in a growing line of mediocre foreign full-backs jettisoned by Spurs, he’ll no doubt be picked up by a half-decent European team (a la Lee Young Pyo, Erik Edman, Timothee Atouba, Paul Stalteri…). Woudln’t be surprised to see him end up in the Champions League next season, because football’s a funny old game. 

 

Jamie O’ Hara – Controversial one this. Young “Three Touch” O’Hara’s work-rate is appreciated down the Lane, but lack of first-team opportunities have prompted grumblings of discontent. While he’d be worth retaining for his fight (we’ll need it in the coming months) and just to keep squad numbers healthy as we compete on several fronts, I personally wouldn’t shed too many tears, if we sell him. Let’s face it, Three-Touch would attract the likes of Hull, Boro and Fulham, rather than Villa or the top four, so is he really good enough for us?

 

Kevin Prince-Boateng – Hard to believe this lad won German young player of the year a couple of seasons back. Given squad number 23 by ‘Arry, which is probably more than the minutes he’s played this season. It therefore seems certain he and his intriguing Mohawk and well-illustrated arms will be on show on someone else’s sub bench by February.

 

Ricardo Rocha – Is he injured? Is he in the reserves? Is he still alive? Will be sold to the first club that remembers he still exists. Unbelievably, he’s been capped by Portugal. Ricardo Carvalho he ain’t.

 

Adel Taarabt – Will be a shame to see young Tarbuck go, his cameos were always entertaining, and occasionally effective (eg West Ham away last year). Still only about 8 years old, it might pay to send him out on loan rather than sell him off. If he could cut out the excessive step-overs and work on the end-product, he’d step up from being the skilful kid in the playground to being an effective Premiership-level impact sub.

 

Hossam Ghaly – Not sure too many people have forgiven him for throwing away his shirt, the scoundrel. I certainly haven’t. How dare he. Good riddance in advance. (And more to the point, he didn’t set the world alight when on loan at Derby last year, so he can’t be that good).

 

Darren Bent – A Bentley-esque long-shot this, but there have been whispers that he’s on his way out. It wasn’t so long ago that he was knocking them in for fun at Charlton and other hopeless teams – personally I think that with some decent service and a strike partner to help him out he’d be more than adequate at Premiership level. However, he’s English which means that Aston Villa want him. Seven million is the number being bandied around, which wouldn’t be terrible business if we could bring in Defoe.

 

 

And some less likely movers and shakers…

Dider Zokora: Wanted by Real Madrid. Honest. I know this because a message announcing it was delivered to me by a flying pig.

 

Aaron Lennon: Another Real Madrid target according to some drunk, stoned tabloid writers with too much time on their hands. A few months ago he probably would have been on his way out, but several dips of the left shoulder and bursts towards the by-line later and he’s very much part of our plans. Not going anywhere in January.

 

 

 

Jermaine Jenas: Oh that someone would take him off our hands. I’d pay other teams to take him off our hands. Bless him he tries – he’s certainly trying – but the odd decent game in a dozen isn’t enough. Had a brief spell last year when he grew his hair and became amazing; but alas, like Samson, a haircut deprived him of his wondrous power, and he became rubbish again. Bizarrely rated by successive England and Spurs managers, surely there’s someone out there willing to stump up, say, £7 million for him?

 

Heurelho Gomes – A couple of months ago we couldn’t have bundled him out of the door fast enough, but since then he’s upped his game and been one of our most consistent performers – the team’s poor recent form has been despite rather than because of Gomes. They say form is temporary and class is permanent – and it’s still a bit early to discern the category under which Gomes’ good performances fall. However, he’s doing a sterling job at the moment, let’s not make him cry again.

 

Roman Pavluychenko and David Bentley – Alright, I’m being silly now, but neither of these guys have justified the inflated fees we shelled out last summer. We won’t sell them because we’ll make nowhere near the amount we paid for them, so like it or not, we’re stuck with both. Still, unlike Jenas, both have at least previously shown flashes of genuine quality – let’s hope 2009 sees them both rediscover such form.