Tag: Premiership

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Stoke 2-1 Spurs: Rugby Tactics and Mind-Boggling Refereeing

Sitting down to type when one’s lip is literally still quivering with rage must surely be ill-advised, but how else to express sheer, undiluted incandescence? Here at AANP Towers we are generally loath to criticise the officials, since their job is jolly difficult, their mistakes are always honest and frankly I imagine that to a man the players make many more errors per game. And yet so many, high-profile and egregious were the faux pas of the officials today that I have little choice but to clear my throat and ask in the sternest tones, “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes”?

Stoke – A Handy Rugby Side

My sentiments on our triumphant opponents are hardly more complimentary, although unlike their friends in black the Stoke players could not be labelled necessarily incompetent. Talentless, for sure, but at least skilled at the unique brand of non-football they purvey. Stoke’s tactics were not entirely dissimilar to those of our burly rugger-playing cousins, who exalt in blasting the ball towards the heavens and scuffling over the scraps as it falls to earth, their principal aim being to get the ball into touch. But goodness, didn’t they do it well?

Ill-Timed Narcolepsy

Our lot are hardly exempt from the quite terrifying wrath being meted out in this corner of the interweb. As AANP advances in years he holds ever greater regard for time spent sleeping, one of the most mysterious and wondrous gifts bestowed upon those with closable eyelids – but for goodness’ sake chaps, the first 25 minutes away to Stoke was hardly the time to indulge in a spot of shut-eye.

Alas, our heroes dozily trundled along in that opening quarter of the game, sleepily rubbing their eyes and adjusting their duvets as Crouch and his new chums watched the ball descending from the skies and duly sharpened their elbows. In truth the half-time deficit was deserved.

Second Half Improvement

Laudable proactivity from ‘Arry at half-time, and everyone (bar, perhaps, VDV) earned their weekly wage in that second period, with Modders notably contributing to the cause, and Bale and Walker adapting fairly comfortably to the mystical concept of “wing-back”, as the nature of the game gradually swung back from rugby to football.

‘Twas not to be however, such is life’s rich tapestry. The Adebayor disallowed goal, Shawcross handball, push on Kaboul and handball by Crouch were all fairly blatant; and on a particularly fortuitous day we might also have benefited from the push that floored Parker as we awaited a corner in the first half, and shot by Defoe that struck outstretched arms in the second.

A temporary blip then, one would imagine – but beware ye who tread the streets of North London tonight, for this particular irate fan will fix any passer-by with a glare of such vitriol that small children will howl in anguish and elderly women hurry to the other side of the road. Thoroughly, thoroughly exasperating stuff.

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Stoke – Spurs Preview: Beauty, Beast, Etc

After a run of 10 wins in 11, and six in a row, the true connoisseur does not really want the record to grind to a halt against Stoke. Against Barcelona maybe, or the Harlem Globe Trotters – but not Stoke.

Stoke are actually a member of that elite and highly exclusive band of English teams that have indeed beaten us this season (cast thine mind back to our peculiar Carling Cup exit a few months back). Given our tendency to panic in the face of set-pieces, this lot could pose problems from their Delap uber-throws, while leading their line is a familiar-looking chap of elongated proportions, Peter Crouch now allowing the ball to bounce unpredictably off his angular cranium in the red and white of Stoke. It all points to a side at the very opposite end of the aesthetic spectrum. Beauty and Beast. He-Man and Skeletor. Tottenham and Stoke.

Still, the drill for our heroes does not differ from week to week – swarm all over them from the off, and take a few of the plethora of chances we’ll doubtless create. Empirical evidence suggests that it is a winning formula.

On the personnel front Gallas may again deputise for Ledley, while Defoe and Bale have chipped fingernails and tummy aches, but even so our lot ought blinking well to prevail. The VDV-Defoe question may once again be an issue; it should matter not. Defend well enough and up the other end the goals will flow.

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West Brom 1-3 Spurs: One Of Our Best – M.H.E.P.L.G.W.T.S.

Desperately sad news about Gary Speed – RIP

Within a day or two it will inevitably be swallowed within the black hole of wondrous statistics about just how darned good the current crop are (best start to a season since the ’61 Double-winners, since you ask), but the win at West Brom has muscled its way into AANP’s exalted list of Most Hard-Earned and Pleasing Little Gaggle of Wins This Season, or “MHEPLGWTS” as we like to call it for ease of reference.

To win 3-1 away is one thing, but to do so having gone behind and been largely out-played and out-muscled in the first half, by something resembling a team of Scott Parkers, is quite another. Moreover, in the absences of both Modders and VDV this whole bally thing was achieved in the absence of half of the heartbeat of our team, if you excuse the invocation of a tenuous and frankly impossible medical metaphor. A quite sterling effort, rewarded not only by three points but also by the dropping of points by Man Utd, Newcastle and l’Arse. A fine weekend’s work indeed.

First Half Struggles

As noted, our vanquished opponents deserve some credit or making life quite so awkward. Rather than kick and hack their way through proceedings, or lasso all eleven back to the edge of their own area, they had quite a pop at our heroes in the first 45, pinning us back and making life jolly uncomfortable. ‘Twas noted with a raised eyebrow at AANP Towers that Ledley looked a little less than his usual stately self at the back, and the defence in general seemed to exude more than just a whiff of general panic in the first half. Mind you, the struggles of Ledley were suitably expiated for by the performance of Kaboul, fast maturing from reckless man-child with weirdly sculpted eyebrows into full-blown colossus, and not just because he can head the ball further than I can kick it. The odd mistake still creeps in – ball-watching, needless fouls – but these days he waves that “Thou Shalt Not Pass, You Swine” placard in convincing manner.

Life Without Modders and VDV

Things perked up after the break. Scott Parker continues to charge around as if playing each game in the knowledge that his parents are watching him for the very first time; while Sandro displays an infectiously boyish enthusiasm for things (albeit an enthusiasm that very nearly earned him a second booking). Sandro has a bit more to offer in terms of moving forward, and the pair generally seemed to take it in turns to supplement attack, with Parker even eschewing the safety-first sideways/backwards keep-ball approach that usually constitutes his ball-playing diet in its entirety. However, despite the best efforts of these two we did lack the je ne sais quoi that Modders and VDV typically offer.

In the absence of these two particular talisman, our heroes made hay through the aesthetically sublime approach of moving the ball quickly. It may have lacked a little of the cutting-edge provided by Modders/VDV, but by pinging the ball around quickly we got ourselves back into the game, patiently it hither and thither until the spaces appeared, and the little legs of Walker, Lennon, Bale and Defoe sped blurrily into the great big swathes of greenery in front of them. It is a credit to the on-ball technique and off-the-ball movement of our lot that the man in possession always has a couple of options.

Cutting-Edge in Attack

Ultimately however, the difference was probably that, as against Blackburn, QPR and Fulham in recent weeks, our attacking types have that little bit more quality than the opposition. Whereas previously it has been VDV, Bale or Lennon, yesterday it was the finishing of Defoe that was a class above. Where West Brom were profligate, we were clinical. As has been discussed ad nauseam, he has his critics, of whom AANP is not one, but no matter how selfish, one-dimensional or ignorant of the offside law one considers him to be, he is one heck of a finisher. (Curiously for one who has now scored four goals in a week, I still think that Adebayor needs to work on his finishing, but his overall contribution remains immense.)

And so it continues. There remain a good two third of the season left to play – but who amongst us would not have taken this situation back in August, when City were thumping their fifth past us?

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West Brom – Spurs Preivew: Let Not The Bubble Burst Today

Anyone else reached the slightly absurd conclusion that we should really win all but two of our remaining 27 fixtures? The bubble will presumably burst at some point, but if the earth continues its merry rotation around the sun in the time-honoured fashion of a few thousand years there is little reason to expect anything other than the standard, slightly tortuous three-point haul.

However, while on paper, or indeed the interweb, our lot should outdo West Brom , anyone who fails to recall our frustrations against West Ham, Wigan et al last season need only refer to England’s recent one-shot-on-target victory against El Spanish a couple of weeks back. Note ye well, oh lilywhite heroes, this may prove a struggle, despite our player-for-player superiority. In particular, the concern around these parts centres upon our ability – or lack thereof – to defend set-pieces.

Wholesale team changes are somewhat unlikely, but some murmurings suggest that VDV might be a doubt, in which case ‘Arry must decide whether to employ Defoe within a 4-4-2, or something a little more circumspect, possibly involving Sandro. One would be inclined to slap a proportion of the weekly earnings upon “Away Win”, and another Villa-esque stroll would be quite ripping, but one suspects this could be slightly harder work.

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Spurs 2-0 Villa: Bafflingly Easy

Oh that life were always that simple. Villa’s scouting network appear to have concluded that any attempt to disrupt the Tottenham modus operandi would result in a riot, and consequently they spent the entire night carefully keeping a safe distance from us, allowing our heroes to do whatever they jolly well pleased. Still, objective achieved, and boxes ticked left, right and centre., but if I may be so bold I would dare to suggest that when in such utter dominance they could do worse than display an attitude of bloody-minded ruthlessness. There were moments when Lennon tried a flick in his own half, or VDV dabbled in unnecessary ornateness, when at 2-0 the fait was not necessarily accompli. When in complete control let’s go crazy and score until it’s a tad embarrassing for all concerned. Plenty of time for own half fancy flicks when the scoreboard has hit double figures.

Our lot certainly deserve credit, for alternating between sensible bouts of keep-ball and occasionally knife-through-butter thrusts

However, I digress rather wildly from the point that this is the best Tottenham side in living memory, and that without breaking sweat they stomped all over those poor little Villa lambs. Bale, Modders, Parker and Kaboul no doubt sipped their celebratory bourbon with relish last night, after performances of particular majesty, while BAE threatened to steal the show simply by unbraiding his quite sensational mop.

Oh Dear…

Word reaches me that the chatter amongst the more excitable members of the lilywhite fraternity is of title-winning frolics. To each their own I suppose, and our juggernaut is certainly trundling along most merrily at present, but I do feel rather inclined to point out that it is but November. Top Four is the aim; top three is pleasingly realistic; yet we still remain but three points above seventh. These are wondrous times at N17, with cracking stuff from our mob on a weekly basis now, so rather than pore over the possibilities of May 2012 I plan to spend the coming days donning slippers and gown, and contentedly puffing upon a pipe.

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Spurs – Aston Villa Preview: Preferably Not Another Scott Parker MoM Performance

What ho, and I trust you are in as fine fettle as AANP, for today’s basic algebra lesson is that a win today will take us third, and with a game in hand no less. Crivens! Let’s ruddy well get out there, dominate, take the lead, sit back, invite pressure, concede one and hang for dear life for those three points! Our current streak of fairly relentless goodness bodes well, as does Villa’s winless away record this season, but this being THFC there will inevitably be many a slip ‘twixt cup and lip.

Scott Parker’s inexorable march towards Fans’ Player of the Season has seen him just about Man of the Match his way through all eight of his games in lilywhite to date, games that have seen us record seven wins and a draw. Just this once however, I rather hope that Parker’s contribution is minimal, and that we can cruise through to victory without recourse to his indefatigable last-gasp heroics. It would be absolutely topping if the headlines tomorrow were all about Adebayor, VDV/Defoe, Modders, Bale and Lennon, with Friedel a spectator and Parker just occasionally required to play some of his gentle one-twos on halfway, before the forward line launch their next little blitzkrieg.

Corluka is apparently restored to full health, but it is unlikely that young Master Walker will be displaced. If there is a change at all it might be in attack, where, VDV has been recuperating from his latest hamstring mischief by shopping in the supermarket aisle next to the venerable AANP Senior. Defoe no doubt strains at the leash. Meanwhile, the terms of his loan mean that The Lord of All Things Sideways and Backwards will not pop up in midfield for Villa, to invite pressure upon his temporary employers, but one former lilywhite on show will be Alan Hutton, whose defensive frailties ought to be brutally exposed by Bale at full gallop. All things considered this should be three more points for the pot.

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Fulham 1-3 Spurs: Cardiac Concerns All Round

The adage has it that winning while playing poorly is a sign of a good time, but the sentiment in this corner of the interweb is that we win these games because our forward line between them just have more quality than most others in the division. Lennon’s, Defoe’s and even Bale’s ability in the way they took their goals were of the highest order; Fulham for all their pressure did not have that class and clinical touch to apply the coup de grace as necessary. ‘Twas a similar story last week against QPR, when for all the opponents’ huffing and puffing at 2-1 we still had the flair to conjure up a third; ditto, one might suggest, the wins against Blackburn and l’Arse.

So it was the usual stuff from our lot – leading at half-time (albeit far from our best this time); emerging in the second half with an infuriatingly negative approach of sitting deep and heartily encouraging the other lot to apply pressure as they saw fit; a chronic inability to defend set-pieces that saw unadulterated panic sweep throughout the ranks every time the ball was dropped into our area from the heavens (in fact, winning long-balls at either end proved completely beyond us today, Hangeland constantly beating Adebayor, ensuring precious little second half respite; while at the other end the ball frequently stuck with Zamora, despite Ledely’s attentions); but ultimately three more points for the N17 pot. ‘Arry is presumably not alone in suffering heart problems brought about by this sort of performance, for it cannot only have been at AANP Towers that pulse-rates soared and fingernails were gnawed to the bone, during that tortuous second half.

Vindication of Our Summer Signings

That said, the contribution of kindly old Brad Friedel also helped, ever so slightly. I have liked the chap so far this season because he just gets the basic stuff done with no alarms and no surprises, a wonderfully calming alternative to that mental Brazilian chap. While there were probably not any full-stretch acrobatic saves in there today, his reflexes and concentration were impeccable throughout, and each of the countless saves that needed to be made were duly made with no hint of error. Bravo sir, or whatever equivalent is preferred by our cousins over the pond.

Also worth noting that for our first goal Adebayor held up the ball in a manner that was generally beyond Crouch last season, and Kyle Walker showed a turn of pace that would have been completely alien to Vedran Corluka. Our summer signings have advanced us a level, be ye in no doubt. (Yes yes, I’m fully aware that Walker was already strictly speaking a lilywhite last season, but really, since when has a moot point like the truth been allowed to disturb the weekly gubbins around these parts?)

The usual stuff from another summer signing too. I rather hope that, like Ledley, Scott Parker is given the entire week off in between games, and packed off to Butlins, or Benidorm, or wherever he fancies, with a couple of energy drinks and a good book, while a crack team of surgeons re-attach the relevant body parts and generally do whatever they did to that Six Million Dollar Chap back in the 70s. Put yer feet up fella, you’ve earned a rest. (Incidentally, I asked the venerable AANP Senior today whether Parker really did compare to Dave Mackay – the latter having been a particular favourite of my old man – and the response was that the question was invalid, as Mackay would not have made it through a game in the modern era without getting sent off.)

I still rather hesitate to suggest that we are now a team capable of rolling up our sleeves and grinding out results on these away days, for this seemed to owe as much to luck as defensive ability. Nevertheless, away wins such as these – so gruesome to behold that they probably made the midwife shriek – are very much the stuff of which a Top Four finish is made.

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Fulham – Spurs Preview: Cagey and Defensive Away Performance?

Anyone else feeling a little sorry for the boy Defoe? He couldn’t be much sharper if he had great big glinting blades attached to his elbows, and yet come matchday he is left to watch on pensively as VDV ripples the net like it’s going out of fashion. The ultimate ignominy – inclusion amongst the tots and second-raters for the trip to Russia – cannot possibly have lightened his mood. Poor blighter.

Still, if he sits it out again tomorrow, VDV does his usual trick and we toddle off home three points better off, there will be no complaints from this quarter. It would be quite delightful if our heroes cocked a snook at the age-old notion that the away team must dig a trench on the edge of their penalty area and station ten bodies therein. Mercifully, our lot seem rather to enjoy the breakneck, back-and-forth basketball approach to away days, whereby caution is left bound and gagged in the dressing room, and harum is joyfully united with scarum for the best part of 90 minutes. Grist to the mill of Lennon, Bale, Walker et al, one would assume.

Seasoned fantasy footballers will be well aware of the threat posed by that Dempsey character, while other points of note about our esteemed opponents are that they are managed by Martin Jol (blessed be his name) and have decided this season to play in their pyjamas. On paper – and indeed at the Lane – we would turn this lot over with the usual mixture of first half aplomb and decidedly less second half urgency, so this really should be another three point affair. Over to you, chaps.

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Spurs 3-1 QPR: Man-Size 6-a-Side

Yes it was only QPR (nota bene, Chelski), and no one does not really like to brag – but by golly our lot could not have played with more swagger if they had purred around in Lamborghinis with Megan Fox in the passenger’s seat and Snoop Dogg mixing cocktails in the back, while the stereo blared out Test Match Special. In truth this was not so remarkable – recall ye the similarly imperious dismantling of Liverpool on that very same patch of turf but a couple of months ago – but it was still absolutely ripping fun to observe. Like a man-size version of those rather charming little 6-a-side keep-ball games in which they indulge in the pre-match warm-up, the attacking five, plus full-backs, made it look for all the world like we had twice as many players as they, particularly in the first half. Two goals was the minimal requirement at the break. Something of a mixed bag from Adebayor in attack, his ability to hold up the ball a wonderful vindication of the observations of just about every Spurs fan in Christendom last season that we needed a forward of presence, yet the radar needs some maintenance, for his finishing was curiously awry. Attention from this mini-drought is neatly diverted by the net-bulging prowess of others.

But curses upon that break, and the deplorable half-time routine in which our heroes seem to engage. They seemed to have swapped half-time energy drinks for warm milk laced with laxatives and horse tranquiliser, duly trotting out looking ready for bed rather than another 45 minutes of blood, thunder and corners. Mercifully the 2011 Tottenham vintage does possess more class in attack than one can shake a giant stick at, so no matter how susceptible we looked in retreat, there was a general air of menace when we went forward. Thus, matters were duly secured in another blur of breakneck first-time six-yard passes, followed by the sort of finish that really separates wheat from chaff.

Nevertheless, this habit of scoring first and duly conceding does not quite have me dancing jigs of delight across the corridors of AANP Towers. And somebody somewhere might want to teach sit them down and teach them the intricacies of the noble art that is set-piece defending.

It is peculiarly appropriate that Scott Parker has something of the geeky, unspectacular air of Clark Kent about him. Within a performance overflowing with attacking flair, his was probably the stand-out contribution, based on grit, energy and other attributes the like of which are perhaps a little anathema to some of our more feted superstars, past as well as present.

So it’s two out of two within a run of six eminently winnable to-dos, and a game in hand no less. Honestly, where will this all end?

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Blackburn – Spurs Preview: Straightforward on Paper…

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.