We didn't beat Stevenage

What a wonderful afternoon of cup action on Sunday. Fluid sexy movement, push and run football from the visitors and gallant efforts from the lower tier hosts who battled bravely to defend their pride against the hot-shots from North London. It was a majestic occasion.

That's basically how I hoped this match report would start in an ideal post-game world, however what we got instead was abject hoofing, fragmented selection and quite possibly Tottenham's most below par performance of the season. Seriously, 0-0? You sure? Credit to Stevenage, but that was poor. This wasn't Spurs, it was bizarro Spurs trying to out-crap the previous cup game away day at Watford. It's like we're trying to be the anti-cup side this season and do as little as possible as we muddle through each round just to prove how nonchalantly we can be and still win in the end. Although the win is on ice until the replay. Compounding matters further was the ITV coverage that included in-game interviews. Pleasantly surprised they hadn't booked in Haye and Chisora to make an appearance to spice things up a little.

I could have written up a match report citing said hoofing of the ball and the general lack of botheredness and focus along with our initial formation (and the eventual shift to 442) and questioned why we took such an apparent risk in not playing a strong cohesive side. Be thankful I'm not going to make you re-live the match in blog format.

We've since been told one or two of our players are 'injured' and not match fit. Hence the selection. But in all honesty, the team we did field should have been more than capable of dismantling the hosts. If we want this FA Cup (Bolton at home once Stevenage are dispatched in the reply) we need to start treating the competition like it matters. But then what do I know. I'm a fan with an internet connection and Harry Redknapp is the one being touted as the next boss of England. Damage limitation on a dodgy pitch away from home, job done is probably the reasoning (excuse). Second half was better than the first, if only for the apparent discovery of shape the team managed to embrace.

The only positive I can draw from this experience is the fact that you can still count on one hand (a finger or two) how many below par performances we've had this season. And still not lost (I'm ignoring the pre-Parker defeats, they don't form part of our new history).

If (I'd state when but I've already cited dispatched, and trying to avoid a karma jinx) we get past Stevenage and play a stronger side at home to Bolton...we'll be in with a chance of making the semi-final.

Might as well book that open bus for the parade.

Hold up, you mean if we beat Stevenage then Bolton we have to play a semi-final? Can't we skip that  altogether? No?

Oh well. The dream is already practically over then.

Friday Night Football. Let's never speak of it again.

Watford 0 Spurs 1

If the game where Hoddle scored that wonderful wonderful chip was enthralling, this 2012 FA Cup match (from a Spurs perspective) was an abomination in comparison. Harsh, but a fair assessment. It really wasn't very good from start to finish. Watford, hardly Brazil but very unfortunate to have not scored. All things considered, a 1-0 win and progress into the next round is hardly scoffable. New Spurs, can play without edge and still claim victory, riding lady luck bareback...willing to take the risk.

We lined up with a strong side. On paper more than decent. The reality altogether a different experience. No true shape and absolutely no width. Thankfully Lennon was on the bench for the second half but before we got there we had to endure very little in the way of anything of substance. Midfield was unbalanced, Luka lost out on the left. Rafa in there somewhere doing something. I think. Actually I don't know. I kept having to check the starting line-up to confirm and then reconfirm the existence of some of the players out on the pitch. No fluidity, no smart, sharp movement and passing. There was no tempo other than chasing Watford back when they came forward. Rose and Walker under early pressure whilst we lacked direction.

Modric and Rafa struggled to gain influence. The two forwards (JD and Adebayor) waiting rather than gathering. There was no apparent system to our play that would have allowed the variety of in-team units to work together. Retaining possession, recycling possession, push and run. Nothing. It progressively got worse. That's until van der Vaart scored on 43 minutes from a counter attack (a Walker threaded ball) to the anonymous enigma who scorched the ball into the net from twenty-five yards. Although how anyone can notice how a player can be anonymous in amongst a sea of anonymity is beyond me. I was just happy to see someone attempt a shot on goal.

Second half, Luka off and Lennon on gave us width. Pace. Eased the pressure on the flank Rose was patrolling. Still, we continued to ride our luck with Murray clear on goal hitting the post and the rebound squandered by Deeney. Wakey wakey, right? Wrong. More coma-inducing football followed. We did carve out a chance or two (rose cross Walker header Loach save). Rafa was slightly more involved in the play, in that he got to touch the ball. Have to admit I found myself easily distracted by the want for Yorkshire tea. Also, had to call Sky up because my Sky box lost its signal (was watching the game on an internet feed on the pc). On the phone to Sky they asked me to unplug the box which I did. Then press the backup button, keeping my finger pressed down on it. Then I was asked to re-plug the box in. I kept my finger on the backup button, but could not reach the plug. I needed assistance to complete this so I called out for the missus. I then proceeded to turn into Alan Partridge.

"Dan...Dan...Dan...Dan...Dan...Dan....Dan..."

I burst out laughing when she walked into the room. She had no idea why and gave me daggers for distracting her hair straightening until I explained the necessity for the Sky plug to find its way back into its socket. It fixed the problem. Highlight of the game that was. Not relevant to the football, but thankful for ye olde living room improvisation theatre rescuing me momentarily before the bleak return to the internet stream.

Rafa hit the crossbar. But Watford continued to press. Without being patronising either way, we played poorly with plenty of disinterest. Friday night football, obviously not our stage. But even with our lack of oomph, Watford for all their plucky resilience and belief still couldn't get past Cudicini and his heroic save when it looked a certain equaliser. 25 shots to 6, supposedly. That's 25 Watford efforts to our lazy half dozen.

I really did expect us to walk this when I saw the line-up but credit to Watford for at least turning up. Not sure if that was a City hangover being flushed out of our system or just one of very very (very) few below par performances we've witnessed this season. Perhaps evidence that a slightly weakened Spurs side is detrimental to momentum. Perhaps evidence that players did not wish to run around a lot and get injured. Sometimes we don't have much choice but to take that risk. Props to Livermore. I noticed you Jake. Either way, its done. We're into the hat and we can look at the far more important business of the league and Wigan at home.

What? Come on now, the FA Cup...its still an afterthought I'm afraid. The magic has yet to spark us into life. Perhaps in the next round.

Regardless, we win. Onwards we go.

Love the shirt.