Tag: Spurs match reports

Categories
Spurs match reports

Burnley 3-2 Spurs aet: The Twice-Weekly Ritual Humiliation

Wow. I thought my preview yesterday was pessimistic, but the players outdid themselves last night. 

“I foresee only a lethargic and complacent performance, until, perhaps, shaken out of ineptitude by the concession of goals… 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.” – Me, yesterday (http://www.allactionnoplot.com/?p=276)I’m still too bewildered by it all to have a good proper moan. That feeling of incredulity and humiliation is becoming a twice-weekly ritual now. My immediate post-match summary, to whichever poor sod is within earshot on the night, that it was “Possibly the worst Spurs performance I’ve ever seen,” might as well be shaved into my head, so that when I bow my head in shame at the final whistle of each remaining game this season it is there for all to see and I can bypass the hassle of verbal comment.

Where to start? (I think, in honour of my intrepid heroes, I’ll wait 90 minutes-plus before starting). The game – Spurs’ season, so many of Spurs’ seasons – in a microcosm was the build-up to Burnley’s second goal. Some Championship player stumbled across the halfway line, ball at his feet. Zokora and Hudd backed off. The Championship player meandered to the right, Zokora and Hudd backed off. The Championship player stopped, had a cup of tea, checked his facebook page – Zokora and Hudd backed off, the fear of God in their eyes, treating the lad as if he were an entire pride of rabid lions, hungry for the meat of under-achieving, prima donnas. The Championship player eventually looked to his left, played in another Championship player (unmarked, naturally) and before you knew it half the Spurs defence had been turned inside out and the ball was nestling in the net.

I appreciate that for both Zokora and Hudd to have flown in with diving tackles might have been reckless and left yawning gaps behind them, but one of them could have seized the initiative, shown some desire and just shunted the lad sideways or something. I’m possibly being unfair now, as this might have meant a speck of mud on their nice shiny white shirts.

So, we’re off to Wemberley. Huzzah! With not a hint of dignity, the Spurs players celebrated the late escape almost as if they’d earned it. On this form, and against Man Utd, we could become the first team ever to lose a Wembley cup final by double figures. It won’t happen though. As it’s Man Utd, and Wembley, and a chance for glitz, glamour, celebrity status, a night-out in Faces, WAGs and generous tabloid exposure, the players will excel themselves on 1 March. They’ll be

unrecognisable. They might win it.As my brother said, at least they were entertaining last night.
They were awful, I countered.
Yes, he replied, but they’re comical.

More tactically…

Yes, the tactical bit. Any Spurs players, and quite possibly ‘Arry himself, will stop reading at this juncture, possibly confused by the connotations of the term, and its relevance to the celebrity lifestyle.

The Burnley players are not technically better than ours – if they were they’d be playing in the Premiership, and would have the international caps that our lot have. However, they played last night as if their lives depended on it. As if this was their cup final. Our players went if for the 50-50 challenges in perfunctory manner, because they had to.

At 18 stone and 6’ 5″ (or whatever he is) Hudd should be winning everything in midfield – he didn’t. He never does. As weren’t 2-0 and toying with the oppo, he was largely anonymous. Modric had some good touches, and didn’t seem to mind getting dirty. Bentley’s attitude was admirable, as on Sunday. Assou-Ekotto almost scored the best own-goal since Gary Doherty’s David Platt-style overhead volley vs Leicester in 2003/4. One game isn’t enough to judge Alnwick, especially as it was evidently the first time in his life that he’d played in goal.

The 4-5-1 formation ought to have brought some joy, stifling the Championship midfield, but succeeded only in leaving Defoe isolated upfront. Again, however, I commend his ability to shoot on target, and hard. Do it often enough and it will bring goals, whatever his limitations in other areas.

And one final rant, about The Mentality of The Common Sportsman. Why do players need to be staring defeat point-blank in the face, nose squashed up against its window, before they start competing? The fact that we were losing 2-0 to a Championship side didn’t fluster the Spurs players, because they were on their way to Wembley. Yes, yes, but losing 2-0? To a Championship side? Where’s your dignity, chaps? It’s the same with the England cricket team. Give them a target of 150 to chase down, and with 120 on the board they’ll be making heavy work of it. Yet, against the same oppo and on the same pitch two days later, when chasing 250, they’ll breeze past the 150 mark without any hint of difficulty (only to start falling apart at the seams at the 220 mark). Couldn’t the Spurs players have set out to win the 90-minute game last night? No chance. It wouldn’t be the Tottenham way.

 

Categories
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 match reports

Wigan 1-0 Spurs: Lack of Vortex Leaves Jenas Red-Faced

To whom could ‘Arry possibly have been referring when he talked of the need for “men” in the squad, and fighters for the relegation scrap. Actually, you don’t need to be Einstein, or even Murder She Wrote’s Jessica Fletcher, to piece this one together (side note – what was it with that woman? Wherever she went, someone dropped dead within 24 hours. If she turned up at my place I’d run a mile…).Ledley, Woodgate, Dawson, Three-Touch O’Hara and Zokora were singled out for praise by ‘Arry, as those you’d stick your life on to win a header. Fair enough, by that criterion. By implication therefore, the rest need to thump a clenched fist to their chests a bit more regularly in order for ‘Arry to stop twitching. 

Who better to pick on than everyone’s favourite fall-guy? Jermaine Jenas, take a bow son. As Wigan’s last minute corner looped into the area, rather than stick to his man, jump and challenge for the round white thing, Jenas rather optimistically banked on a vortex into another dimension spontaneously opening up a yard behind him and swallowing up both the ball and

Maynor Figueroa. Surprisingly enough, the space-time continuum trundled along in that same, predictable fashion of the last several million years, and Figueroa used the freedom of the six yard box well, sending a bullet header into the net.

I realise it’s unfair to knock a man until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes, so I can’t possibly testify to the rigours of marking someone at a set-piece at Premiership level. However, my basic experience of a million cold Saturdays at amateur level has taught me that marking someone offering no movement, from a set-piece, ain’t the hardest part of the game. Get in-between him and the goal, get yourself close enough to smell his ear-wax and at least let him know he’s got a very special friend as he tries to get his head on it. If you do this and he still scores, at least you’ve done your best. Don’t, however, lost sight of him, wander a couple of yards in front of him and let the ball sail over your head (before heading back home and collecting your thirty-grand-a-week wages). If Jenas ever again wonders why he has no song at the Lane, I’ll add yesterday’s shocker to the three-part dvd of Jenas Being Useless (The Highlights) and shove said dvd box set down his throat.

More tactically…

I was unable to catch the game yesterday, due to a family engagement, and it was no doubt in retribution for this act of betrayal that the players lost the game in the last minute. My viewing was therefore limited to MOTD 2 in the evening, which hardly places me to comment.  However, ‘Arry’s team selection was puzzling to say the least, a sentiment I’d have expressed even without the benefit of my impeccable 20-20 hinsdight. King in the midfield holding role was surprising but just about comprehensible – but Zokora wide right? We’re not exactly short of qualified right midfielders, so this one certainly had me arching a quizzical eyebrow. Presumably the deployment of Zokora, King and O’ Hara across the middle was aimed at providing a platform of gritty ball-winners upon which Modric would be allowed a bit of freedom to pull strings, particularly within a 4-4-2 rather than 4-5-1. Can’t say it’s the sort of line-up which has me leaping off my seat and dancing atop my desk in joy, and evidently it didn’t have us thumping down on the Wigan door either. Wendy Ramos, one suspects, would have been pilloried for such a team selection…

Categories
Spurs match reports

Spurs 3-1 Wigan: More jeers for Ghaly, Cheers for 4-4-2

Football fans are often accused of fickleness, but there is a rather unfortunate consistency about our treatment of Hossam Ghaly.

It is well over a year since he pulled off his Spurs shirt and flung it on the ground, incurring the wrath of fans throughout the stadium and beyond. Yesterday, as he readied himself for his first substitute appearance since, the N17 regulars began spitting feathers at the sight, and ‘Arry thought better of it. It appears that young Ghaly may have played his last game for Spurs. 
 
 

 

I’d imagine that there was nothing malicious in Ghaly’s act of throwing away the shirt. Bear in mind that he had just suffered the ignominy of being substituted having only himself entered the fray as a substitute. He must therefore have been most irked at life in general and his manager – Martin Jol (blessed be his name) – in particular. In front of 36,000 people, that’s pretty humiliating.Oh, that he had instead vented his displeasure by grinding his teeth, or kicking a water bottle, or burning a small annoying child. We’d have understood that, maybe even sympathised and surely moved on.
But pulling off the legendary lilywhite shirt and tossing it to the dirt, proud cockerel and all, could diplomatically be described as an ill-advised move. In an age in which fans pay astronomical prices for their 90 minutes of torture, and in which working-class supporters  feel increasingly distanced from the multi-millionaire prima donnas who take to the pitch, the lack of regard for the badge, the very identity of the club, was a pretty poorly-constructed plan of action from one of the players. 
Understandably, many will regard the booing of fans over a year later, as a childish over-reaction. Fair point. But offensive it ain’t. It’s an expression of disapproval, to which, I think, fans are entitled.

Having spent every spare minute of his press conferences over Christmas twitching and complaining about the size of his squad, ‘Arry will now presumably have to do without Ghaly. I can’t really say that my heart bleeds for the player – he presumably feels hard done-by, but the oodles of cash pouring in every week will soften the blow, my sympathy dwindling in direct proportion. If he wants a sympathetic ear, he should pop down to the south coast and have a nice warm cuppa with one Sulzeer Campbell esquire.

More tactically…

 Every time ‘Arry’s played 4-5-1 I’ve bemoaned the lack of support for the lone striker. Yesterday it was 4-4-2, and he entrusted holding duties to Zokora alone, with Modric the attacking half a central midfield pair. Now a slightly cumbersome win against a second-string Wigan team will have very few (outside All-Action-No-Plot Towers) singing from the rooftops, but I’m much encouraged.

Whether or not Zokora and Modric are a sufficiently strong central pairing to cut it in the Premiership is an entirely different kettle of fish, and frankly I suspect they’re not. Still, the tweaked formation, and its success, give ‘Arry food for thought.

Not too pleased about the emergence of yet another alice-band in the ranks though. Lose it, Luka.
 
 

 

 

Categories
Spurs match reports

West Brom 2-0 Spurs: I’ll get stick in the office for this…

Oh blinking heck. Defeat to the bottom team, one point from six over Christmas – this is just plain embarassing. I know this is supposed to be a politically correct age, but everyone knows that West Brom are rubbish, and vastly out of their depth in the Premiership. Losing to them today was humiliating. It’s like taking on a group of seven year-olds in a park, and losing. Oh, the shame.

Never mind our desperate plight at the lower end of the league (we’ll survive), I’m more concerned about the relentless stick I’ll get back in the office tomorrow. Having mouthed off pre-Christmas about how a string of wins would propel us towards the European places, we’ve taken one point from six, and lost to a bunch of seven year-olds. With Fulham at home and West Brom away, a six-points boast really wasn’t entirely ludicrous, but things have gone wildly awry over 180 mins of football. European football seems a distant dream now. Before we can think about that we’ve got to remember how to make mincemeat of the Premiership’s most unattractive and backward components.

This is not what the all-action-no-plot mentality is supposed to be about. All-action-no-plot is supposed to encapsulate the madcap nature of Spurs’ glory, glory attacking football, passing and movement, non-stop entertainment, and shots raining in. Not too much concern for defence, admittedly, but 4-4 is better than 0-0 (and if we ever sorted out the defence I’d have to call this all-action-neatly-rounded-plot, which really doesn’t have the same ring). No, the all-action-no-plot mentality ought really to have seen us beat West Brom 5-1, or thereabouts.

Instead we’ve forgotten how to score. We have no divine right to win these games, but we have the quality in attack to do so. Unfortunately, we’re not making chances, we’re not supporting the lone striker (abandon 4-5-1 ‘Arry, pretty please, with a cherry on top) and each time we pick two deep central midfielders (two from Jenas, Hudd and Zokora) we’re effectively lining up two men short. It’s nine vs eleven. No action, no plot.

The cause wasn’t helped today by the dismissal of Assou-Ekotto, but nevertheless – with Modric and Lennon both on form there is a basis for attacking potency. Somehow, with their misplaced passes and inability to tackle, Zokora, Jenas and Bentley are between them negating the good work of this pair.

The honeymoon is most certainly over for ‘Arry. Now it’s time for him to earn his corn as a manager, both tactically, with the under-performing and shorn of confidence rabble already at N17, and in the transfer market over January.

Alternatively of course, if we want a spate of good results, we could always sack ‘Arry, bring in someone new and watch the miraculous “new-manager-bounce” occur.

(I jest. )

Categories
Spurs match reports

Spurs 0-0 Fulham: Dreariness to the strains of Vivaldi

The existence of a football fan can be a pathetic one – trudging around an empty room, pinning my hopes on a radio, staring pleadingly at it and willing it to deliver good news. The reception on it was so poor that match commentary was delivered with early afternoon orchestral performances on Radio 3 in the background. The commentator sounded like a gobby 15 year-old dragged out of his classroom, whose unique brand of humour amuses only the other hoodied teenagers who congregate at train stations on a Friday night to scowl, smoke and spit. This inanimate object, delivering to me first movements and teenage witticisms was the object of my undivided attention and longing for two hours on Boxing Day.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, this 15 year-old’s blow-by-blow account informed me, to the strains of Mozart’s Horn Concerto, that Spurs served up a woeful performance today . I need not really elaborate on the match details – all the usual boxes can be ticked: under-achievement from Bentley; lack of service and creativity from midfield; Bent swapped with Pav after 70. The usual suspects. Winter from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons could not assuage my annoyance.

I regularly wonder if there’s anything more frustrating in life than being a Spurs fan. This marriage to 11 men in white frequently leaves me ruing that fateful day, back in 1987. Only minutes before kick-off this afternoon I wrote, full of optimism, about how Fulham at home could be the springboard to a run of wins which would fire us up the table. Looking back, with the benefit of just a few hours’ hindsight, I sneer at myself. How could I have been so naive? Why will I again be churlish in my predictions, in just 48 hours’ time? Nil-nil at home to Fulham is about as uninspiring and dreary-sounding a result as I can imagine, even if at half-time I caught random snatches of the rousing Superman theme tune on Radio 3. No result can be further from the all-action-no-plot team to which I signed my life away, two decades ago.

Categories
Spurs match reports

Assessing Assou-Ekotto – Newcastle 2-1 Spurs

Darn it – having recently mugged l’arse and Liverpool with last-minute goals, we muggers became muggees this afternoon, against the barcodes of Newcastle. Evidently we can feel aggrieved, but these things tend to even themselves out, approximately, over the course of the season, so let’s not be too despondent. It still baffles and grates me that we’re unbeaten against each of the top four this season, and have lost to just about every rubbish (or at least second-rate) team in the division, but that’s football I guess. By all accounts it was a decent perfromance – and upcoming fixtures suggest that we have a great opportunity to go on the sort of run that would lift us well clear of the relegation zone and ensconce us in the top half.

The fall-guy today was left-back Benoit Assou-Ekotto, apparently glaringly at fault for the first goal. While ‘Arry has steadied the ship and brought out the best in the likes of Modric and Lennon, and even Gomes and Bent,  his faith in BAE has gone largely unnoticed, but nevertheless irks me. My reasons are twofold – numero uno, BAE is mediocre at best; and secondly, we have one Gareth Bale in reserve.

BAE’s mediocrity is spectacular. He is the archetypal “solid”  full-back, where “solid” is a euphemism for “dull and of limited talent” . He rarely ventures beyond the halfway line, let alone up to the oppo area, in the style of the great 21st century attacking full-backs. His entire array of passing seems to comprise solely of whacking the ball down the left flank – and his defending, as evidenced today, hardly elevates him into the pantheon of greats. I like to judge a player according to the teams he would attract if offered for sale – and BAE seems to be in the Fulham/Wigan category.

On top of that, he has an unnervingly blank expression at all times. Admittedly this isn’t the strongest reason to exclude him from the team, but that icy demeanour makes him look like he’s formulating a plan to murder someone – with an axe – and scares the bejeesus out of me. Just made a last-ditch tackle? BAE looks blank. Just dropped a clanger? Looks blank. I suspect that even if he slotted home the Champions League-winning penalty his celebration would consist of a blank look into some distance space, before retrieving the ball and belting it up the left touch-line.

And yet BAE is keeping Gareth Bale out of the team. Indeed, BAE was the only first-teamer rested by ‘Arry during last week’s draw to Spartak, so unfathomably sacrosanct is his place in the team.

If Bale were sold today Aston Villa and Everton would have a look, and possibly even the top four – indeed, we beat Man Utd to his signature 18 months back. Now admittedly Bale has had a slightly shoddy season so far. His defending has never been his forte, reflected in the fact that he plays as often in midfield as at the back, and his distribution has been a tad wayward. However, when on song – as in the first half of last season, before getting injured – he is a potent threat. As a natural, attacking left-footer he offers balance to the midfield, the threat of an early cross, good pace and also chips in with goals. When all else was going wrong in the first four months of last season, he struck me as our best player.

The congested Christmas fixture list is likely to force ‘Arry to chop and change a bit, and I implore young Bale to seize the chance with both hands, and left foot, and cement his place in the team. He may look like he’s yet to evolve fully from our simian cousins, but he has at least previously shown himself to be a quality performer in a Spurs shirt – something I’m not sure could be said of the axe-murdering BAE.

Categories
Spurs match reports

Gilberto – so bad he got sacked… Spurs 2- 2 Spartak Moscow

Imagine playing so badly that immedidately after the game you get sacked by the manager. It’s got to be the game’s biggest indignity, even worse than being a substitute who gets substituted. Gilberto, take a bow. I think it happened to Dave Beasant once, back in the late 80s/early 90s, but last night in his first start under ‘Arry, Gilberto was hauled off at half-time and shown the door at full-time. How badly must he have played?

Not only that, it was the third time in his brief Spurs career that he’s started and been withdrawn at half-time, for performance rather than injury reasons. Now we’re not exactly a club famed for its amazing defenders, so to be taken off at half-time, and then told he’ll never play again – the guy must have been truly rubbish last night.

Bizarrely, Gilberto is Brazilian, which ought, according to the laws of physics, to make him one of the most talented footballers around. No doubt once we get rid of him he’ll be snapped up by some European team and end up with a Champions League winners medal. However, it’s saying something that at a time when ‘Arry is moaning about the size of our squad he’s willing to jettison a player after just 45 minutes…

Bless him, Gilberto’s debacle last night occurred about a year after his debut for Spurs, when he picked up the ball just outside his own area and decided to try and dribble past the entire opposition. He got tackled by the first guy, who promptly scored. At the time I figured that after such a nightmare start things could not get any worse for him. In a sense this was true – strictly speaking they haven’t got worse – but the assumption was that things would actually improve. They haven’t. They’ve remained at a cringe-worthy inept level and Gilberto is still rubbish. He’s only played a handful of times for us, but remains about eighteenth down the pecking order of full-backs, behind the likes of Assou-Ekotto, Gunter and the good ladies of the under-12s.

To be fair to the guy, playing in defence obviously means that bad form results in goals conceded; whereas a striker in bad form doesn’t actually cause a negative goal difference. So while Postiga scored about two goals in 20 or 30, and the clumsy beanpole Razsiak didn’t score once, neither actually caused us to concede goals. Gilberto, on the other hand, and indeed Gomes, can have solid games for 89 mins and still be remembered for making one howler, with little chance of redemption up the other end.

I can’t remember how much he cost, but we seem to have made a bit of a habit of paying well over the odds for defenders who are mediocre at best. Richards for £8 mil a few years back, a good £3 or £4 mil for Rocha, now £8 mil for Corluka – even in the modern age of inflated prices these are all ridiculous. I’d be quite content if Platini, Blatter and all the other crack-pots who run the game insititued a two-tiered payment system for defenders – £20 mil for the best ones, and £1 mil for all the rest. Rio? £20 mil. Cannavaro? £20 mil. Ledley? £20 mil. Assou–Ekotto? £1 mil, tops. Lescott, Carragher, Tal Ben Haim and Gilberto – £1 mil. This would avoid any confusion brought about, and remove the need to sack some foreign defender with a few international caps for whom we’ve paid a shedload but who is actually rubbish. It will never happen, but then once upon a time we thought the same about the back-pass rule…

I can’t make much informed comment about Gilberto’s performance as I had to be content with the radio last night. Even though there are about 200 hundred tv channels available in the UK at the moment, including half a dozen dedicated sports channels, not one was showing the game. Clearly there’s not enough football on telly at the moment. There’s a niche in the market there…

So I don’t really know how Gilberto played, other than that he messed up royally for Spartak’s opener, and got sacked as a result. It’s a form of management that would strike few into a few million of Britain’s laziest in other spheres of employment. Elsewhere on the pitch – well, I don’t know. I couldn’t watch it. Apparently though, the first half was awful, but in the second half the full-backs pushed up and we were much improved. Good to see (ie hear) that Modric has broken his duck for us. Generally relieved to hear that the patched up reserves made it through, particularly from a two-goal deficit. Bring on Shaktar Donetsk in the next round, minus the wretched Gilberto.

Categories
Spurs news, rants

Woodgate does his Anderton impression: Spurs 0 – 0 Man Utd

Good grief, what a productive week. West Ham away and Man Utd at home could quite conceivably have ended in nul points (and would almost certainly have done so under Wendy Ramos). Admittedly the second half vs Man Utd increasingly became a backs-to-the-wall effort, but we did create some chances, and a clean sheet against the European champions, with an attack of Berba, Ronaldo and Tevez, is no mean feat.

 

That feat becomes even less mean when it is remembered that we began without King, and lost Woodgate to the most innocuous looking injury early on. We’ve been rather spoiled by an injury-free year for Woodgate, but the manner in which he picked up his “knock” – with no-one around him – was rather worrying, and memories of the original, definitive “Sicknote” came flooding back. Whereas Sir Les would get injured every week because he’d get concussion from nutting someone’s right boot, Anderton just didn’t seem to be built for football, and his weedy little legs rarely took the strain. His sinewy frame and gaunt face gave the impression of a man built of elastic bands tied around twigs – with the result that if he strained too hard he would snap. It had slipped my mind until Saturday, but Woodgate’s history suggests that he is similarly constructed. Hence, in the finest tradition of Anderton he incurred an injury seemingly just by landing, after jumping a foot in the air, and off he went, clutching his back and grimacing, like a grandfather who’d overdone it a wedding disco.

 

The resulting ad hoc back-four of Zokora, Assou-Ekotto, Corluka and Dawson hardly instilled me with confidence at first glance, but my goodness they did well. A lot of Dawson’s recovery tackles may come about because he erred in the first place, but he still made those recovery tackles in fine style. Zokora I single out for particular place, not only because he was thrust into unknown territory at left-back, but also because he was up against the newly-crowned Ballon D’Or winner, Little Miss Ronaldo. Perhaps, with his pace and penchant for an occasional 80-yard run, right-back could become a more regular spot for Zokora, in the absence of so many other options. Assou-Ekotto had his usual perfunctory, unspectacular game, although rather more eye-catching this time on account of his new hairstyle, which looked a bit like the grid from that board game “Battleships”. Gomes was quality. I’ve been one of his biggest critics, but the lad had a blinder – the spectacular leaping saves obviously catch the eye, but I was most relieved/impressed by the fact that he didn’t fail to connect when coming for corners. Bravo, sir.

 

Elsewhere on the pitch… Modric continues to look like he’s adapting to the English game with every passing match. Thudd performed an impromptu castration upon poor old Pavluychenko, which prevented what might have been a cracking goal (has Thudd ever scored any other sort of goal?) Bentley still looks like a flashy boyband member who has yet to prove he can walk the walk. However, his early long-range volley was a further indication of the renewed confidence that ‘Arry seems to have instilled in the team.

 

So positives aplenty, but all the jolliness is rather tempered by a glance at the league table, which shows that we’re still only a point above the relegation zone. This despite an unbeaten record against the top four this season* which makes all the more infuriating our losses to Stoke, Boro, Sunderland etc. The top half of the table remains tantalisingly close, but we will require a string of wins, rather than the win one, draw one, lose one cycle we seem to have adopted. The Prem takes a back seat for a few days as Spartak Moscow are next up, which at this rate is likely to see me make my debut in defence. Point needed to progress, I feel confident.

 

* = Pedantry alert – I’m aware that Villa are actually fourth at the moment, but for all intents and purposes I’m shoving l’arse into that little group.

Categories
Spurs news, rants

King reigns, Modric arrives: West Ham 0-2 Spurs

A bunch of positives from last night – a clean-sheet; cracking double-save from the much-maligned Gomes at 1-0, that was worth a goal (although a draw would have been harsh on us); little Lennon’s final ball matching the quality of his initial scampering; and the sight of the team generally bossing the game for much of the second-half. Personally though I was most chuffed with our little midfield fairy Lucy Modric.

 

Some context first – he was hardly Pele out there last night. In the first half in particular his tendency to drift wide and stay there left poor old Pavluychenko trudging around the penalty area with no white-shirts anywhere near him and only that nasty Lucas Neill for company. However, even in the first 45 Modric started to look like the flashy Hollywood midfielder we’d all heard about over the summer. A couple of neat step-overs, some twinkle-toed dribbles and the odd cheeky nutmeg – he suddenly appeared to fancy English football, and to believe that he really was a better player than Parker, Behrani et al. Then, for 20 or 30 mins in the second half, we began to dominate the game and Modric seemed to be at the hub of most things good. While maintaining a fairly central position he made himself available for a pass, and regularly took the opportunity to swagger towards goal and pull a few strings. It would be stretching it to say he bossed the game, but for the first time since arriving he seemed to enjoy conducting things, and occasionally he delivered the end product of a pleasingly incisive through-ball (we Lane regulars like that sort of thing). Finally it seems, Modric could be finding his feet in this Tottenham team.

 

Bless him, he still seems to be made of talcum powder and string. A gentle nudge doesn’t just knock him off balance, it sends him hurtling about ten feet across the pitch. At times it seemed he was sent tumbling by a gentle breeze in the East End night, or the blast of air carrying from the ref’s whistle. More cunning teams will work out not to give him too much time on the ball, and instead just kick, as he’s liable to snap, but cunning didn’t appear to be the West Ham way last night. Admittedly there was not much to which it can be compared, but I’d say Modric’s performance last night was possibly his best in a Tottenham shirt, which bodes rather well – I particularly look forward to seeing him dominate some Uefa cup games, where he has more time on the ball

 

Elsewhere on the Pitch…

 

Modric looked the sort of player that Bentley would love to become – ie a class above and he knows it. Bentley still doesn’t look entirely comfortable. It’s as if the whole business of getting stuck in on the pitch is a rather irritating distraction from living out his dream of living the celeb lifestyle in London.

 

Elsewhere, Assou-Ekotto continued to amble around in auto-pilot with that curious, expressionless stare of the undead, before doing his best to concede a penalty (relax Hammers fans – yes it was a pen, but we should have had a blatant one at the other end).

 

Corluka looked like a big lumbering bear, with little pace, and generally preferring to exercise pragmatism over guile whenever in possession.

 

Zokora did a decent job defensively, but conceded possession too often in the first half when going forward. Almost got his goal in the second half, mind.

 

And good old Ledley capped a solid display with a goal he can now drink to, stumble to and get in a fight at Faces to. His goal celebrations looked surprisingly sedate for a man whose celebrations were so heart-warmingly captured by the tabloids earlier this year.

 

First half we were as sloppy as I’d expected we’d be, second half we were much improved, a really impressive, controlled and inventive performance. Also nice to see us (generally) sensibly play the game out in the last few mins, just keeping possession, aside from the needless concession of a couple of free-kicks. But even those had a silver lining, as Gomes was able to enjoy his moment in the sun. Take a bow lads.