Tag: Wilson Palacios

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Spurs rants

Tottenham Hotspur 2008-09: The All Action No Plot Awards

Suffering withdrawal? Desperately seeking an unnecessarily nail-biting one-nil win? Confused by the absence of someone at whom to scream “F*ck sake Jenas”? Then knock yourself out with the All Action No Plot Awards, and re-live Tottenham Hotspur, season 2008-09Two-Points-Eight-Games Award For Completely Turning Around His Season
Step forward Heurelho Gomes. Firmly established as our number one now, but by Jove not so long the streets of White Hart Lane were filled to bursting with fans tripping over one another to hold the exit door open for him. As well as an almost vampiric inability to deal with crosses there was the fumble v Villa, the suicidal dribble vs Udinese and the hot-potato-style nadir vs Fulham. However, a jolly impressive comeback has seen him become central to our record-breaking defensive form at the Lane, and saves such as those vs West Ham away, and Chelski and West Brom at home, were each worth goals. Although he was rubbish in the Carling Cup Final penalty shoot-out.

The Manuel Que? Award For Not Understanding A Ruddy Word of English
While the passport-wielding likes of Corluka, Assou-Ekotto and Modric seem to understand what’s going on, and are presumably sufficiently au fait with the English language, poor old Roman Pavluychenko has all season wandered the pitch with the air of a man who has absolutely no idea what anyone is saying to him. Indeed, in one of ‘Arry’s first games in charge, Pav’s translator was instructed by our glorious leader to tell him “Just f*cking run about”. Mercifully, he has a sound understanding of the game in general, hopefully will lead to better things next season.

The Big Girl’s Blouse Award For Wearing Female Accessories On A Football Pitch
Not so much an award as a naming and shaming. Aaron Lennon in tights is one thing, as one can – just about – see the medical reason for this. However, Jonathan Woodgate and Luka Modric ought to be docked half their wages for that alice-band nonsense. Man up, for goodness’ sake. (Corluka escapes this ignominy, by the skin of his teeth, for doing the decent thing and getting a haircut.)

Defender-Who-Looks-Most-Like-That-Croatian-Doctor-From-ER Award
Only really knew Vedran Corluka by name when we signed him at the start of the season, but although a little one-paced, his rapport with Aaron Lennon on the right has bordered on the psychic at times. None of which has anything to do with his most uncanny resemblance to some chap called Goran Visnjic of the tellybox. He plays a doctor in ER, and apparently auditioned for the role of James Bond too (Visnjic, not Corluka).

The Fat Frank Lampard Award For Eating All The Pies
The Hudd, by a country mile. He could give Luka Modric a few tips.

The Louis Armstrong Award For Jazz-Hands
A simple one, this. His go-faster eyebrow stripes may make him down wif da kidz, but little Aaron Lennon’s jazz hands routine, every time he revs up, is straight out of the 1920s. Further dainty effect is added by that delicate hop and skip of anguish, whenever he loses the ball. Bless.

The Oliver Reed Award For Fondness Of The Bottle
I have to admit that a piece of me died when news broke of Ledley King’s arrest for getting tanked and trying to lamp a bouncer, or whatever it was. At the risk of sounding like my own mother, he always seemed so quiet, mild-mannered and well-behaved. Such a nice boy. We all turned a blind eye to the post Carling Cup-win celebrations, and even when tabloids printed other pictures of him stumbling out of clubs, we tried to ignore it. Bit difficult to ignore now though. It’s always the quiet ones, eh?

Most Likely To Get Away With Murder Award
Let’s face it, Robbie Keane has been near-enough getting away with murder in the last few weeks anyway – picking up more in a week than we do in a year, for generally loitering around the centre-circle, pointing and shouting, and doing his damnedest to stay away from the opposition area. No matter what he does (or, perhaps, doesn’t do) it seems he can’t be dropped or substituted – which has me wondering quite how far his shield of immunity stretches.

The Chris Bridges Award For Most Ludicrous Haircut of The Season
Mercifully, not too much competition here, if you exclude the long-haired alice-band pansies. Jermain Defoe dabbled in a dubious Maltesers-on-the-head Craig David-esque effort for a few weeks, but then got injured and reappeared with an eminently more sensible short back and sides. Young Bostock may offer some competition next year with that spikey Mohawk thing, but as he’s only 14 or whatever he can get away with it. However, Benoit Assou-Ekotto, we salute you. Unbraid your braids, and give us more of that frankly awesome afro.

Michael Ballack Award For Being The Biggest Loser Of The Season
Last year Herr Ballack captained the losing team in the Euro Championships final, lost on penalites in the Champs League final, was runner-up in the Premiership and lost the Carling Cup final. However, Gareth Bale would probably settle for any of those, having now failed to win a single league game with us in the two seasons since he joined us. (Honourable mention here to Jamie O’ Hara, who was in tears at last year’s Carling Cup Final after being left out of the squad, and then missed in the penalty shoot-out of this year’s final).

Begbie From Trainspotting Award For Being A Truly Terrifying Scot
Joe Jordan’s inscrutable stare reminds me of the more ferocious breed of militant teachers from back in the day, but I think Alan Hutton wins this one, for reportedly beating up his own Dad or some such business. Cripes. Rather looking forward to seeing him lose the plot on the pitch one day, and batter the life out of some random unknowing opponent.

Christopher Columbus Award For The Most Directionally-Challenged Player At The Club
Assou-Ekotto almost scored a 30 yard, volleyed own-goal away at Burnley, but as regulars will know, we at AANP Towers were only ever going to award this title to one person. He passes backwards, he passes sideways; he passes sideways, he passes backwards (even though he’s actually a pretty talented footballer); inevitably, it’s Jermaine Jenas.

The Karaoke Award For The Player Who Most Deserves His Own Song
6 November 2008. White Hart Lane. Darren Bent has just scored his first hat-trick for the club, and whose name are we singing? Jermain Defoe’s, even though, at that time, Defoe was still a Portsmouth player. And when the “Defoe” choruses finished, our salutes rang out to John Bostock, who at that point still hadn’t yet made a senior appearance for us.
 
However, poor old Bent doesn’t actually receive this award. In a momentous act of goodwill and peace, I award it to your friend and mine, Jermaine Jenas. One of the problems with JJ is the lack of the confidence-bordering-on-arrogance that inspires an attacking player to take a gamble and try to be a match-winner. He’s capable, as he occasionally demonstrates, but all too often he’ll take the safe option (as ranted about above). Maybe if he had his own song he would be a bit more adventurous? And start passing forwards?

Terminator 3 Award For Being Expensive And Eagerly-Awaited But Ultimately A Complete Letdown
There are a few contenders here, which is testimony to the misjudgement of Comolli and his clowns last summer. Pav will hopefully come good eventually; Giovani is unlikely to be given a chance in lilywhite; but the most disappointing has been poor old pretty-boy David Bentley. Not really his fault, as he’s not been given too many games in his own position, but he’s hardly helped himself by trying Maradonna impressions every time he’s been on the pitch and received the ball. Just keep it simple lad. At £15 mil or so, and with that reputation, we expected more.

Jurgen Klinsmann Award For Being The Signing Of The Season
Corluka has been steady, Gomes has found his form and Defoe has looked razor-sharp in the handful of games in which he’s featured. After a brief teething period, Luka Modric has become our creative hub, and is rightly revered at the Lane, but in a photo-finish the barrel chest of Wilson Palacios gives him the award. He’s what we’ve needed for years – and whatever criticism we level at ‘Arry, there can be no doubt that this was an inspired signing.

Ole Gunnar Solksjaer Award For The Most Inspired Substitution Of The Season
This may raise a few eyebrows, as ‘Arry would generally stick with his starting XI even if his life depended on making a change or two. However, cast your minds back to Sunday 15 March, away to Aston Villa, when poor old Didier Zokora’s blood was turned inside-out by Ashley Young. Do-do-do Didier had already been booked, when he was brutally but rightly hauled off by ‘Arry. Corluka kept Young quiet, and we went on to win 2-1, an away day which, at the time, ranked amongst our best results of the season, and was part of our run of tip-top spring form.

The Saving Private Ryan Award For The Most Mental, 20 Minute, All-Action-No-Plot Sequence Of The Season
What the hell happened in the second half against Man Utd? Admittedly the penalty awarded against us was harsh, but that was just one goal. Yet the entire team took it as their cue to stumble around like headless chickens as the champions ran riot, and a 0-2 lead became a 5-2 deficit in under half an hour. (An honourable mention should also go to the team that pitched up away to Burnley, although that torment was dragged out for a good 90 minutes.)

Nelson Mandela Award For Humility and Modesty
Truly a man for others, our glorious leader ‘Arry Redknapp has, since the day he arrived, made sure that everyone understands that our turnaround is entirely due to the players. Never short to sing their praises, the frequent references to Two-Points-Eight-Games™ are always followed by the conclusion “And it’s to the players’ credit that they’ve achieved this”. Unfortunately, the scandalous editing processes of Sky, Setanta, the BBC et al, mean that these closing sentiments tend typically to be edited out.

 

More fond reminiscences on season 2008-09 are imminent. Meantime, by all means do the Facebook thang, or follow the AANP lifestyle on Twitter.

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Spurs match reports

Liverpool 3-1 Spurs: Ending With A Whimper, A Disappointing Finale

Well that, frankly, was pretty disappointing. I know it shouldn’t matter – far wiser heads have been calmly pointing out the various reasons why:

·         Context – We spent the first half of the season avoiding relegation. Anything above 18th was to be welcomed. Moreover, while victory would have taken us into Europe, today’s game was hardly the must-win affair that other teams found themselves facing. The guaranteed mid-table spot was fine.

·         Not Qualifying For Europe – Pride aside, this will undoubtedly benefit our League campaign next season, when top six should be mandatory, and top four could be guiltily whispered about behind the bike-shed. The benefits were exemplified this season, after our exit from the Uefa Cup, when Ledley became a regular and we went one-nil crazy.

·         To Be Fair, It Was Liverpool Away – I guess we’ve been spoilt by impressive form in the last three or four months, coupled with something approaching a hex on the top four, but let’s not forget that this was the Premiership’s form-team (ten wins in eleven) and probably one of the top four or five teams in Europe. On top of which they have been unbeaten at home all season.

·         Injuries, Absences, No Absolutely Urgent Need To Win – All mitigating factors. A full-strength Spurs team, with more at stake than a last-day procession, would arguably have made a better fist of it.


Yes, yes, all very good points, probably all quite true – but being sore losers, we at AANP Towers have been in no mood to buy any of it, and have instead moped angrily around the place today, stamping on old ladies’ feet and furtively elbowing small children in the head.

·         Completely Outplayed – Gallingly, it was one of our most lacklustre displays for some time. The game highlighted quite how important Wilson Palacios is to us, and how important it is that we bring in a decent understudy. The Scott Brown rumour has gathered momentum, and my one Celtic-mad chum has given the boy a vote of confidence, which we AANP Towers are tentatively happy to endorse – a “terrier” apparently, in the Roy Keane mould, although “he needs to develop”, which is a slightly worrying disclaimer. Having waited so long for a midfield enforcer it seems greedy to demand another, but with no Palacios doing the rottweiler act in front of the back four we looked a shadow of our more recent, late-season selves, and scarily similar to our early-season Two-Points-Eight-Games selves.

·         Completely Outplayed – Admittedly it’s not particularly inventive to use the same sub-heading twice in a row, but let that be a warning – I’m so irritated by today’s shoddy showing that I’m even eschewing literary decorum. This time I mean “completely outplayed” in the sense of embarrassment rather than tactics. Losing narrowly after a good performance is gut-wrenching, but does at least leave a sense of pride. By contrast, rather tamely capitulating, as today, leaves me clenching my fist in something approaching anger, and has the old ladies and young children of North London running for the hills. There didn’t seem to be a huge amount of pride in the shirt, more a weary and longing glance towards the Departures lounge at Heathrow. Yes they’ve done well to revive a season that started on life-support, but it’s a 38-game season, and today too many of them were trying to skive off work.

·         Gap in Class – Being a Spurs fan, delusion is in my DNA, so over the last few months I’ve been gradually peddling – to myself – the notion that we really are going to have a jolly good stab at the top four next year. Really. Today’s game unceremoniously highlighted the fact that there is a gulf in class between Liverpool and us. This sets some sort of record, as May 24th is probably the earliest I can ever remember having my perennial pre-season delusions of grandeur shattered. (That said, in the interests of objectivity, I should note that we only have to catch l’Arse, rather than Liverpool, to hit the Champs League, so the top-four delusion can be merrily pieced back together. And, the gap in class will surely narrow once Palacios and Lennon return).

·         Fulham Lost! – Dagnabbit, unlikely as it seemed prior to the game, victory would have seen us into Europe. Instead, the players looked for all the world like they’d been told at kick-off that Fulham were actually five-nil up, and accordingly just shrugged their shoulders and mooched around in auto-pilot.

·         Last Game of the Season – Some say that a team is only as good as its last game, and as a supporter, I’m only as happy as my team’s last performance. This feeble amble in the Merseyside sun is the memory I’ll be taking with me into the summer.


Elsewhere, I rather hope young Gareth Bale doesn’t take his football as seriously as we at AANP Towers, because he’s now gone two seasons without a league victory for us, which would have weaker men scribbling notes entitled “Goodbye Cruel World”. Local media outlets have been inundated with reports of sightings of UFOs, the Loch Ness Monster and David Bentley on a football pitch – the brylcreemed one entering the fray in the first half after Jermaine Jenas broke a fingernail. Neither Bale nor Bentley made particularly compelling cases for their regular inclusions. Instead, as often happens, ‘twas the absentees whose stocks rose today.I suppose I was rather hoping that we would end the season with a bang, and it could barely have whimpered more if it were a sick puppy that had just seen its parents shot. However, it was one tired performance, with not too much at stake, at the end of a decent season, which has included a particularly impressive final few months. It would be unnecessarily pedantic to criticise too harshly – so do as I say kids, not as I do, and while biting our lips at today’s limp showing, let’s cheerily applaud their efforts for the season.

And don’t you all go scuttling of for the summer, because All Action No Plot will keep the flag flying – as well as general transfer ramblings, the Champs League final and England’s match against Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, the next few days will see the unveiling of the All Action No Plot Awards 2008-09. Is AANP really going to have something positive to say about Jermaine Jenas? Who will win the much-vaunted Defender-Who-Looks-Most-Like-That-Croatian-Doctor-From-ER Award? And will the players us it as an excuse to tumble into Faces afterwards? It’s the award ceremony that has people across the land literally shrugging with apathy.

 

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Spurs preview

Liverpool – Spurs Preview Mk II: The Spurs Soap Opera Season Finale

After yesterday’s supposed Liverpool-Spurs “preview” morphed onto a completely different topic, I spent the entire night racked with guilt. (Actually, that’s a pretty blatant lie – I spent last night pickling my liver and hurling down shapes on various London dancefloors. That new Dizzee Rascal number is rather a toe-tapper).Nonetheless, I thought it best to look in a little more detail at today’s game – it is the last of the season after all. As with any soap-opera season finale, the madcap all-action-no-plot soap opera that is Tottenham Hotspur 2008-09 has its main plot, sub-plots and all manner of character developments.

Main Storyline 

Not that it will be easy. Far from it. While we’ve been stringing together one-nils, Liverpool have assumed the all-action-no-plot mantle, with four-goal salvos against Man Utd, Real, Chelski and l’Arse to name but a few. Even last week, after the title had been lost, their players gave notice of quite how psyched they were for a meaningless game vs Blackburn or someone by indulging in a spot of mid-match fisticuffs with one another. Golly.

Although a win for us is unlikely, it’s nevertheless pleasing to be going into the final day with a goal (that isn’t relegation-avoidance) for which to aim. It just about elevates us above mid-table obscurity. Just.

Sub-Plot

Then there’s Robbie Keane, a sub-plot containing levels of coincidence that could feasibly have been penned by a particularly predictable script-writer. A game which ought to have been about him making a point to his former employers now sees him rather needing to convince an increasingly cynical Spurs faithful that he does more than point and shout. The man’s stock has fallen this season, and while it would be fitting for him to grab the headlines with something spectacular, recent history suggests his contribution could again be muted. I’d suggest Jamie Carragher is more likely to score from us, at least from open play.

Another sub-plot, which is almost certain to stretch into next season, is Defoe-Keane. They get another run-out today, but it’s a riddle we’re no closer to solving.

Character Development

Some characters exit shows in pretty dramatic fashion, especially if they’re bald doctors in ER, but David Bentley’s likely exit will probably be without fanfare, perhaps just briefly alluded to in an episode next season. Departing characters are par for the course in the world of soap operas, but while some members of the supporting cast are likely to bow out (Bent, Giovani etc), the central figures ought to remain, thank goodness. None of the Berba-esque shenanigans of last time, thank you.

After respectively quiet and downright inauspicious starts, Modric and Gomes have become key members, around whom plotlines regularly centre. If an episode of the Spurs soap opera had opening credits, those two would feature, together with Palacios, Ledley, Woodgate and maybe one or two of the strikers.

(As full-backs, Corluka and Assou-Ek rarely get starring roles in any given episodes, but they’re background presence is reassuring.)

It would certainly be nice to end this season with a bang, and I’ll certainly have an eye, or ear, on the Fulham score, but realistically we’ll need as much luck as we had back at the Lane earlier in the season. Once more unto the breach, dear friends…

 

(nb AANP is now on Facebook and Twitter. Ruddy marvellous).

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Spurs preview

Liverpool – Spurs Preview: What’s So Special About Home Advantage?

Eighth is looking likeliest, which I think we’d all have accepted after Two Points Eight Games™. While AANP could not be bothered to work out exactly how well we’ve done this calendar year, I’d expect Spurs would be somewhere near the top of any table based solely on 2009 form. Home form all season has been spot-on, the record of only conceding ten goals in nineteen games mildly astonishing.Liverpool’s home record is similarly impressive – unbeaten in the league at Anfield all season – adding a few inches to our already tall order of European qualification (which requires us to win and Fulham to lose at home to Everton).

A Digression Which Rather Hijacks The Entire Article 

So does home support make all the difference? There certainly is something to be said for the full-blown, cacophonous atmosphere of White Hart Lane making the hairs stand up on the back of the neck. Never been to Anfield, but the Kop’s reputation is presumably well-earned. For sure then, the players ought really to get a kick out of that sort of atmosphere. Indeed, even at amateur level, just having a few hot lady-friends chirping in with the occasional squeal can add a little motivation. (Me, shallow? Never.)

However, the cynic in me has been motoring away all season, and is unwilling to yield any ground now by simply accepting that “home advantage” is some sort concrete phenomenon we all accept without demur. It only seems to be a concept, existing solely in people’s minds, much like the notion that ugly people are actually beautiful inside. Home advantage seems to equate to having more bald fat shouty men than the opposition, which might add an extra dose of adrenaline, but doesn’t strike me as a good reason to drop a striker and play five in midfield.

I can appreciate that it would be rather intimidating to play at a ground of 30,000 people, all of whom are screeching abuse – but it’s not a fist-fight. The good souls in the stands don’t get to set foot on the turf, and therefore their contribution ought to be limited.

Star Trek definitely gains something from the big-screen experience, but would still be a cracking action film if watched on dvd in a mate’s living-room. One suspects that the dvd version will have the same plot. And yet, venue influences a team’s game-plan. It’s an unspoken agreement before a match that the onus will be on the home team to have first crack at wresting the initiative. The away team sets out its stall to “soak up the pressure”, “silence the crowd” and other clichés from the beaks of parrots.

It’s not a particular complaint, more an idle musing on a hungover Saturday afternoon. Still, as with suggesting to parents that new-born babies actually look shrivelled and hideous, I imagine it’s not an argument I’m going to win. Accepting that away form will typically be worse than home form is just one of those quirks of life we accept and work around.

(Nevertheless, while some people yearn for nuclear disarmament and an end to third-world poverty, I idly dream of the day when teams dismiss the concept of “home advantage” and instead do their damnedest to come out of the traps all guns blazing every game, irrespective of location.)

The Little Matter Of The Football Match 

The curious question of whether Robbie Keane would have been allowed to play against a Liverpool team for whom he stood to win a Premiership medal is now irrelevant, so we can instead watch again for clues as to what strike-force ‘Arry will adopt next season.

And a scary final note – in 24 hours or so the three-month break begins. Not sure I’m quite ready to go cold-turkey.

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Spurs preview

Spurs – Man City Preview: Last-Home-Game Bingo

Not normally a betting man, but I might just stake all my worldly possessions and the lives of some of less significant relatives on Spurs winning 1-0 today. Nothing in particular to do with the opposition or circumstances, it just seems de rigeur at the Lane these days. If Spurs were a cricket team they’d push an early single, then stay on 1-0 for the remainder of their overs.Actually, on a more practical level, this might be a more open game than we’ve witnessed in recent weeks. The continued and understandable absence of Wilson Palacios might leave us a bit flakier defensively than we have been in general at the Lane. To compensate for this, last week the formation was re-jigged to 3-5-2 with wing-backs, and with Lennon also still unavailable this might be deployed again. Either way we’ll be poorer for their absences.

Last-Home-Game Bingo 

’Arry presumably will take the microphone on the final whistle and deliver a few home truths. Never shy of voicing an opinion, he may slip in some sort of reference to the perils of the bottle, in his new-found role as one of Britain’s less likely anti-drink campaigners. Far more probable, bordering on certainty, is a mention or two of T-P-E-Gs. Sigh. With Jamie Redknapp also due on the coaching staff next season, there is at least a suitably tenuous reason now to wheel out Louise, and parade her around to all four corners. Triffic.

We can expect Ledley to be on his best behaviour, but I’m rather tempted to take a thousand photos of him during the game, then sift them for one in which he is caught blinking and stumbling, and sell it to the tabloids, claiming it’s proof that he regularly takes to the field drunk.

Sayanora…?

Get your cameras out too for what might be the last chance to see a few players in lilywhite at the Lane. Chances are that David Bentley will be monopolising the mirrors in someone else’s changing rooms next season, which I personally find rather a shame. Admittedly there was little scope for him to fit in with Lennon in such form this season, but for a player of very decent quality it’s a real shame that the best we’ve seen of him has been only that volley against l’Arse and the youtube clip of him hitting the skip.

Of greater consternation around N17 will be the possible sale of the Hudd. He’s made little secret of the fact that he wants first-team football, and if we play 4-4-2 with Palacios taking one central midfield berth, it’s unlikely that he’ll be a regular starter next season. A 3-5-2 formation today could be his last chance to press that claim.

Fewer tears will be shed for the departure of Darren Bent, particularly if we replace him with a real juggernaut of a centre-forward, but the post-match lap of honour is likely to be his last Lane appearance as a Tottenham player too. Bless him, he’s worked his socks off, never sulked and scored 17 goals despite being in and out of the team, but has not been given his own song. On which topic, this might even be a final farewell for one Jermaine Jenas, if the more mischievous rumour-mongers are to be believed.

However, I’m getting ahead of myself somewhat. There is first a game to be played, and for better or worse, 7th spot to be sought after. For those who are interested, of our rivals for 7th, Fulham are away to Newcastle today, and West Ham travel to Everton.

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Spurs match reports

Everton 0 – 0 Spurs: Redknapp In “Change-Of-Personnel-And-Formation” Shock

There are lies, damned lies and statistics, but a scoreline never spoke a truer word than Everton 0-0 Tottenham yesterday. We edged the first half, they edged the second half and neither ‘keeper had a serious save to make.There were some interesting sub-plots though. ‘Arry Redknapp has developed a serious allergy to change of any form, either before or during games. No doubt therefore, there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth to accompany the twitches when he found that changes of both personnel and formation would be enforced.

With BAE and Lennon injured (some sort of twinge meant Bentley could only manage the bench), and Palacios absent – for desperately sad reasons – ‘Arry was forced to experiment. So experiment he did, with psycho-Scot Hutton, human-simian hybrid Bale and the incredible Hudd all playing the full 90 minutes; Defoe and Keane together upfront; and the whole lot of them jumbled together in a brand spanking new 3-5-2/5-3-2 formation.

Some experiments are blisteringly successful. Alex Fergusons’ deployment of Ronaldo as a striker helped turn Man Utd into possibly the best team on the planet. Alexander Fleming’s poking and prodding gave the world penicillin. Jeff Goldblum’s character created an awesomely slick piece of kit in The Fly, even if the ensuing bedlam did rather shift attention from its genius.

By contrast, the results of our new 3-5-2 were rather less spectacular than all these. It did the job, but is unlikely to be repeated if we have the personnel for 4-4-2.

 

The RegularsThe change in formation ultimately did not make a huge difference to the regulars. Every now and then Gomes’ wires got frazzled and he went a little mental. Trying to dribble round forwards, dropping crosses in his six yard box – that sort of thing. Comfy enough though, and another clean sheet. A fairly serene afternoon too for the centre-backs (it appears that Ledley found something more exciting to do in late-night London afterwards).With the season’s end approaching, Modric has the look of a superhero being gradually exposed to kryptonite. He’s still way ahead of other mere mortals, but his powers are waning. Passes which earlier this season were lined in gold are now being overhit. It’s fair enough – he’s worked non-stop all season. The spirit remains willing as ever, but the flesh is starting to look weak. Send the boy somewhere sunny for a couple of months, and let him put his feet up. Somewhere sunny that all provides an all-you-can-eat-buffet. He needs to put some meat on those bones.

The 3-5-2 allowed Keane to play as a genuine forward, and he even had a shot in the first half. However, he seems to have forgotten what the role requires, as was epitomised in the first half when Lescott slipped and Keane was rocking on his heels rather than devouring the leftovers. Unable to get the hang of playing in attack, he dedicated most of his energy to the one the aspect of his game in which he remains peerless – that pointing and shouting lark. Defoe looked sharp though. More food for thought as next season approacheth

 

 

The HopefulsSo what of the squad players, suddenly given rare opportunities to shine?The use of three centre-backs allowed Bale and Hutton, as wing-backs, to play to their strengths (bombing forward) while providing enough insurance to expiate for, if not exactly mask, their weaknesses (defending). Both made a pretty good fist of attacking, in the first half in particular. Neither were thoroughly convincing when defending, and I’d feel rather jittery if they were deployed within a conventional back four, but there were no real alarms. Still no win for our anti-alchemist, Bale, after almost two years in lilywhite.

The reversion to three in central midfield indicated that Palacios is so important to us – and the rest of our central midfielders so meek and mild – that it needs two men to compensate for his absence. A reserve of some sort, either young starlet or sage veteran, is needed in the summer.

Given that he had the platform of a three-man central midfield it was disappointing that Hudd failed to boss the game. He had his moments, pinging around a few of his usual dreamy Hollywood passes, but was a little too casual from short-range, fairly regularly poking six-yard balls into touch. It was the sort of performance that leaves the jury scratching their heads and waiting for the next piece of evidence.

Nice to see each of these chaps get 90 minutes though, and one wonders what the future holds for them. I expect that Bale will stay, at least until he finally registers a win for us; Hutton will hang around until the January 2010 transfer window to fight Corluka (quite possibly in a literal sense) for the right-back spot; and Hudd will hand in a transfer request citing his hunger. For first-team football.

 

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Spurs match reports

Spurs 1-0 West Bromwich Albion: The Jenas Conundrum Continues

So one nil to the Tottenham, again. In the same way that a generation of kids will grow up knowing Gary Lineker only as the irritating orange bloke of MoTD, a generation may also grow up wondering why a Spurs blog is entitled “All Action, No Plot”.I jest. Four consecutive home one-nils may not exactly be all-action-no-plot stuff, but I am certainly not complaining. Another clean sheet, another three points, and while yet again we made slightly heavy weather of it, we certainly didn’t ever look like losing.

While it was not the most exhilarating performance we’ve produced of late we still created a number of decent chances, with pace and vision from the usual outlets of Lennon and Modric. The problem at times today, aesthetically at least, seemed to be a general lack of movement off the ball. Late in the first half Corluka was guilty of the World’s Worst Ever Attempt At A Stepover, but it was practically forced upon him by complete stasis from everyone else on the pitch. Even here there are mitigating circumstances – not least the fact that it is near the end of a long and difficult season. Also, this afternoon’s sunny clime was probably not entirely conducive to an energetic all-action-no-plot approach.

Get Madonna Off Robbie Keane’s iPod 

Keane duly bedded himself in a good fifteen yards behind Pav and got to work. There was some nice link-up play at times, and those flapping arms are still in fine working order every time he needs to whinge at the ref, but again I can’t remember him having a shot throughout the 90 minutes (the fresh-air kick in the first half technically doesn’t count). This was another performance to suggest that he’s not quite the same without Berbatov, Kanoute or even Mido alongside him. Interestingly, once Defoe was introduced, Keane pushed a lot further up the pitch.

Jenas – The New Wolverine 

And the rest of the time? Backwards, sideways, sideways, backwards. He did not play particularly badly, he generally kept things moving along, and his attitude, as ever, was fine. However, central midfield, particularly with Palacios acting as guard-dog, should be a font of creativity. Jenas seems more often than not to suck the life out of any momentum we have, in any given attack – taking three touches, then inevitably looking to pass backwards, sideways, sideways, backwards. Apart, of course, from when he scored the cracking match-winner from 25 yards. This is the frustration.

Jenas has been a good servant, and as he showed today is capable of the odd moment of class, but I just don’t think he’s consistently good enough to have a regular berth in central midfield if we’re serious about challenging for the Top Four. Use my scientifically-proven, logically flawless “who-would-buy-him?” technique to assess this. The top four sure as hell wouldn’t buy Jenas if he became available. Everton and Villa? I doubt it.  Man City, West Ham, Fulham? Maybe. Well, probably not Man City, given that they can afford Kaka and Messi, but you get the point. A team serious about the top four would not buy Jenas to boss their midfield. Personally I’d rather like to see Modders in the centre, if we get a left-winger (Joe Cole? Steed? Please not Downing)

Elsewhere On The Pitch

Pav had the air of a man who can’t wait for his summer holidays. Fair enough, as he hasn’t had a break in about two years. Defoe’s block on the post was worth a goal. The entire back-four was steady as ever. In fact, ditto that for the whole team, and a particular cap-doff to Gomes (and Modders of course, but that generally goes without saying). A little perfunctory, but another decent win, and more food for thought as 2009/10 approaches.

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Spurs preview

Spurs – West Brom Preview: Hoping For A Reaction

It’s been said that the measure of greatness is not how you react to victory, but how you react to defeat. I could not, even in my most wildly partisan moments, straight-facedly describe Spurs as “great”, but I ruddy well expect some sort of reaction to last week’s twenty-minute debacle at Old Trafford.No excuses – we ought to give West Brom a damn good thrashing today. We fans are owed an all-guns-blazing performance, to exorcise the humiliation of last week, and in terms of bouncing back and unleashing a bit of fury, we could not have asked for anything more suitable than a home fixture against the division’s bottom team.

Aside from the Man Utd mess last week, and the pretty unlucky defeat at Blackburn, we’ve been in decent form. There has been some zippy attacking, and generally pretty solid defensive performances. Play like we have been playing over the last couple of months, and we will win comfortably. A one-nil win and three points would be fine of course, but, perhaps because there’s still some pent up rage from last week, I desperately hope we dish out a real old-fashioned thrashing today. We’ve been making a habit of scoring first in recent weeks, so this week let’s score first but then kick West Brom while they’re down, and turn it into a rout.

Dad’s Birthday Treat 

“Who’s that chap?”
“That’s Fraizer Campell, Dad.”
“Crazy Campbell?”
“FRAIZER Campbell.”
“Oh. Never heard of him. Who’s that chap?”

– and then listening to the frequent complaint that all our players are too small. Dad uses that line like ‘Arry uses Two-Points-Eight-Games.

”I like Keane. He works hard…”
“But he’s too small, right Dad?”
“…but he’s just too small. Ah Defoe. I like Defoe. He’s got an eye for goal, like Greaves…”
“But he’s too small, right Dad?”
“…bit small though. They need someone big in there, like Bobby Smith. [Pause] Who’s that chap?”

I therefore particularly look forward to the verdict on Wilson Palacios. ‘Arry has a big decision in choosing Wilson’s midfield partner, with Jenas his seeming preference, but Hudd making noises about pastures new. In attack, Bent’s out injured, poor blighter, and could well have played his last game for us. Not entirely sure what Pav’s status is these days, so we might get an early glimpse of next season’s big problem, with a Keane-Defoe partnership. Well if they can’t work together at home to West Brom…

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Spurs rants

Jenas Rant Shows He Cares

Rather gloriously, Jermaine Jenas has got his knickers in a twist regarding referee Howard Webb’s moment of glory on Saturday, and has now been asked to explain himself by the FA. (nb that’s Jenas who has been asked to explain himself, rather than Webb…)Anyway, back to the barely controllable fury of our sideways-passing warrior.

 

“One thing which struck me about it was that he [Webb] didn’t even think. It was like he’d already made his mind up when he came out for the second half that he was going to give something,” quivered our intrepid hero.”I think it was a case of a referee crumbling under the pressure at Old Trafford really. The atmosphere, the occasion, the importance of the match, a lot of factors take their toll when making decisions.”

Well huzzah for JJ, the most unlikely of heroes. Unfortunately, the powers that be have taken a rather dim view of these comments, asking Jenas for “an explanation”, but I’m proud of the guy. It reminds me of the nerdy, goody-goody kid at school suddenly snapping and going beserk at his headmistress while awestruck classmates watch on, brimming with a new-found admiration for the blighter.

Admittedly it’s hardly on a par with Lee Bowyer starting a fight in an empty room, or Roy Keane yelling “Take that, yer c*nt” before snapping the legs of a toddler who’d sneezed in his direction. Nevertheless I warmly applaud Jenas and give him my full support on this one, as he queues up for a detention slip alongside Bowyer, Keane, Bellamy and the rest of the school trouble-makers. Not that I condone criticism of the ref – no matter how ignorant, biased, blind, dim-witted, retarded and inbred a ref has to be to drop a clanger like Saturday’s penalty award, I refuse to criticise him. However, just the fact that Jenas was sufficiently flustered by the affair to talk his way into trouble really warms my heart. It shows he cares.

My schoolboy gullibility long ago faded away, and has now been replaced by the overly bitter and twisted cynicism of a bile-filled old man. As a result I know longer believe in the existence of Father Christmas, the A-Team or footballer loyalty. No matter how many times they kiss the badge, and no matter how long their contract, it just seems beyond the boundaries of credulity to expect footballers genuinely to care about their team. They’re on a limited career-span, so they’ll make their money with whomever coughs up. It’s a different world from fans. Rather than bemoan lack of player loyalty I just accept it, even when they stick two fingers up at the club then come crawling back six months later.

Hence, I’d figured that after the final whistle on Saturday they all just trotted off to the players’ lounge to fight over Danielle Lloyd and sort out the Faces guest list. The notion that the penalty decision still rankled with one of them is a flabbergasting but enormously welcome development.

More so as we’re such a soft-touch team anyway. I’ve been brought up on a diet of pretty passes and fancy flicks from Hoddle, Redknapp (Jamie) and Modders. I still eye Palacios with confused fascination, as if he’s a creature from another world, so unaccustomed am I to a player in lilywhite putting himself about. All the more reason then, to pinch myself as I read and re-read Jenas’ tirade. Well, it’s more of an apologetic clearing of the throat than a full-blown tirade, but the point is that he cares. Like we do. Winning means something to him, and losing hurts. His talent may be questionable, he has me tearing my hair out every week, but by golly he’s committed to the cause. Good on you, fella.

 

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Spurs match reports

Man Utd 5-2 Spurs: When A Glorious, Backs-to-the-Wall Defensive Operation Goes Wrong

Sven’s England. They’re the ones to whom we owe royalties for breach of copyright after that second half, now down on record as officially The Worst Ever Attempt To Spend A Second Half Defending A Lead. Sven’s England regularly tried this approach, after scoring first in a crucial game. It actually worked vs Argentina, but then failed abysmally against Brazil, France and Portugal. It’s an unattractive way to win a game and, more trenchantly, typically it just doesn’t work.I’m not sure if it was an official order from the top, or an automatic instinct from the players, but they trotted out in the second half showing absolutely no desire to get over the halfway line. After a bright and breezy first half, with Lennon and Modders respectively bettering their full-backs, we cleansed ourselves of any semblance of attacking intent, and duly set about trying to win in heroic, backs-to-the-wall Alamo style.

That presumably was the theory, but in practice half our team seemed to disappear for 30 mins, only occasionally resurfacing to stumble and tumble around in their own area as Man Utd’s forwards went beserk.

Palacios normally wears underneath his lilywhite a t-shirt emblazoned with a giant “S”. As the designated enforcer in our team, he ought to have been in his element in the second half. Instead, I wondered if the ref had at half-time retrospectively sent him off for that appalling early two-footer, because I’m not sure he was even on the pitch in the latter stages. Rather than enforcing anything the team crumbled like a pack of cards. No plot.

Naturally, there was no shortage of good old-fashioned apoplexy when the penalty was awarded (my instinct on first glance and full speed was that, as the ball ended up in front of Gomes and behind Carrick, it must have been won by the former). However, to attribute the defeat to a dodgy refereeing decision would be to miss the point. Our mentality had been to defend deep and for our lives throughout the second half. To survive, rather than compete. Once that strategy had been adopted, one way or another United goals were a-coming, whether or not the ref helped them out.

In recent weeks we’ve won a clutch of one-nils – but not by camping in our area and desperately trying to repel kitchen sinks being hurled in our direction. We’ve at least tried to attack, and work an opportunity for a game-clinching second, even if we’ve been rather shot-shy and pass-happy.

I’m not suggesting that a reckless, all-guns-blazing, kamikaze attacking mentality would have won the day (although we wouldn’t have fared much worse with such an approach). However, by demonstrating that we were still keen to score more we might have defended further up the field, and caused United some problems of their own – as we did in the first half.

Sigh.

 

Rare Praise For Bent, Slapped Wrist For Keane – And Normal Service Resumed By JenasBravo Darren Bent. Gosh it feels strange to say it, but after scolding him last week for not showing sufficient aggression in attack, I was rather impressed by the way he took his goal. He showed a willingness to muscle in and compete, against the two best centre-backs in the country. Fortune duly favoured the brave, and he banged home his chance. Given that there wasn’t a man in lilywhite within about five miles of him for most of the game, he did what he could.And yes, that last sentence was indeed an ill-disguised snipe aimed at you, Mr Keane. I caught him red-handed in the midfield yesterday, right next to Jenas, and occasionally deeper than Corluka. I presume the idea was for Keane to drop deep, in order to allow Palacios to pick up Berbatov, or some such tactical gubbins. Whatever. Keane’s a striker, so boot him out of the midfield and let him strike.

I’ve been back on medication this week, after my insane ramblings

 

last Sunday bemoaning the absence of Jermaine Jenas. Well, you’ll pleased to know that normal service has resumed. With all the fickleness of Danielle Lloyd in a players’ lounge, I now ditch that argument, and instead pick up one of my many “Get Rid of The Boy Jenas” placards.I had complained last week that no other midfielder shows any inclination to attack the penalty area, and that JJ should therefore be sprinkled in gold and given his own halo. However, as was pointed out to me in the interim, for all his willingness to push forward, no other player is quite as capable of slowing down a Tottenham move when in possession. How could I have forgotten? For yesterday, there he was, at it again, gleefully resuming the habit of a lifetime as if he’d never been away. Passes went sideways, backwards, to Man Utd players, out of play – anywhere but forwards. Maybe his sense of direction was thrown by the presence of Keane standing alongside him, some fifty yards from goal.

Another observation from last week was that

our midfielders rarely helped out poor old Bent by getting into the area. When Modric eventually dared to enter the precious eighteen-yard sanctum yesterday, he scored. Hmm. There’s a link there, somewhere, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.Sigh.( And I can assure you, these sighs are better than the foul-mouthed screams I was spitting out yesterday.) If we wanted

a gauge of how far we’ve come, we got it: we have goals in us, against the best, but we still lack experience and a killer instinct. Still a couple of positions that need improving.However, in the final analysis it was just one defeat. Four games left, and seventh is still manageable.