The money shot that never came

Spurs 0 West Ham 0

It would be easy to tag our attack with the label clearly stating ‘limp’ in big bold capitals. I’d rather not be that obvious. In this instance, I’d prefer to compare Spurs with a male porn star filming on set in LA (or Florida if you prefer) able to sustain wood for a prolonged period even with the countless stoppages and artistic direction. At no point faltering and no flaccid moments to bring filming to a stop. Limp? Hardly, much like Spurs, especially in terms of our effortless movement and offensive intent.

Now the analogy has to be stretched here a little.

The porn star scores several times during the duration of production. But there is only the one money shot. In Tottenham’s case, for all our hard work and poking around it’s not half as fun for us if we get to the end and there’s no shuddering climax. It would be akin to the porn star failing to deliver the most important act of his working day. It would deem everything that built up to that moment as a rather redundant and pointless exercise, for him personally. It will cause on set friction of a different kind.

On Saturday, Spurs resembled that hassled, overly eager and ultimately despairing porn star unable to fulfil and complete the work he's been paid to do. Plenty of swagger and winks to the camera. But no closure. No lingering camera shot and fade out. At White Hart Lane it felt like a session with the fluffer post lights camera action rather than on-set sweating under the lights. It lacked the required relief and that outpouring sigh of ecstasy.

Now if this was a porn movie, someone else would walk onto set and take the role of delivering said money shot, in the knowledge that expert editing in the studio later that day will make it all look seamless. Sadly there is no such cameo to facilitate into this disturbing analysis at this point of the match review. Equally so, if you’re going to ask who West Ham would be in this fantasy, I’d probably opt for Belladonna. Not particularly good looking and usually resembling a complete mess by the end of it, on this occasion frustrating the leading man and the viewers that prefer not to witness a sadistic fetish involving no penetration.

0-0. No money shot. And no satisfaction when the credits roll.

I recently said we could not afford to drop any more home points. Oops. We lost our buffer when losing to Blackpool and drawing at Wolves – meaning that when we play the likes of Chelsea and City and Arsenal (Liverpool too) – these will be must win games. If you look at the table, City are not that far ahead of us (closer thanks to their loss at Stamford Bridge). It’s not impossible, just that we’ve lost plenty of points that would have gone a long way in aiding the fight for fourth. But alas, our way remains the hardest way. As per usual.

There were plenty of positives along with one or two moments of despondent shrugs and waving of hands in disbelief. The perfect illustration of so near and yet so far. It almost resembled the template of game we experienced at the start of the campaign against City. A massive dollop of possession and some guilt edged chances along with unwanted appearances from the woodwork and in-form opposition keeper.

What went wrong this time?

We lined up with a formation that was hardly necessary considering this was at the Lane and against West Ham United (with no disrespect to the East Londoners). No need to over complicate matters with one up top when two would have worked fine. Not that we struggled to get into goal scoring positions. Even with van der Vaart deeper than Linda Lovelace*. Unless you believe that was part of the strategy to dominate the midfield.

*yes, I’ve done that joke before, but felt it relevant enough to spit out once more

For all our wonderful to look at passing and possession, shifting play from left to right, attacking the channels and playing through the middle – it was balanced out with heads turning away in disbelief. Thirty one attempted shots at goal. That’s a lot of head turning.

Defoe was unlucky today. I felt that he only needed a further forty-seven shots on goal himself before finding the net. Two things here, condolences for his very recent loss. It’s a tricky one to gauge with regards to his concentration and composure being completely in synch with the game and not disturbed (even ever so slightly) with off field matters. He had no problem wearing his ‘100’ t-shirt underneath his Lilywhite colours which will need a spin wash before the next game. I'd hazard a guess that his head was in the game. His feet however were not. I won’t dwell on this too much longer other than to say: he should have scored. The Lennon effort off the woodwork the prominent miss. His other goal-sight fluffs seemed to lack the belief of his brace at Wolves.

Modric was his usual class act self. Covers so much ground and is practically involved in everything. His passing is majestic and his movement irresistible. Scott Parker was West Ham’s bright spark, a Jermaine Jenas with a sat nav. Bale still requires another game or two before he’s back at full pelt. Let’s hope International Break does not strike him down. van der Vaart should not have played. He’s not fit and as cited, this was a game that could have done with a more traditional set-up in formation. Rafa seemed to morph into a dizzy Robbie Keane, lost in the midst of midfield with no apparent link-up play with the single forward. The mechanics here needed oiling. The engineer out to lunch.

I was happy with the rest. Gomes alert and Sandro bruising and brilliant. Although Corluka seemed to struggle with a nosebleed the further up the field he travelled which saw some dizzying mis-placed passes.

Lack of cutting ruthless edge in front of goal our bane once more. In a season where most of the top sides are struggling with their demons, it’s worth highlighting that we’re not doing that much wrong. Other than perhaps making it far more difficult for ourselves in the long term by not pulling that trigger against opposition that we should be beating. Nobody in terms of assured quality from the back to the front is taking the league by the scruff of the neck. Hopefully we don’t come off fifth best in this wacky race.

Dawson, Lennon, Defoe, Bale, couple of Modric shots – all efforts that left you scratching your head mumbling ‘one of those days’ a cliché you just knew would rear its head in the post-match interviews. Harry made some fundamental mistakes in selection. But regardless, he can hardly remote control the players once they're out on the pitch.

It was still a cracking game, for the neutral. And City fans. And even easy on the eye for us, mostly. And let’s not pretend that West Ham didn’t have a chance to steal it. That’s a West Ham team that would have gladly taken a point at the start of play. That's how they set themselves up. They held it together, rode their luck, failed to take their chances but never allowed themselves to be over-run. They retained discipline. Relegation fodder? Not on this form. We'll never know how they'd have reacted if we managed to score. Shame we didn't win, what with City losing on Sunday. A point gained then?

Let’s conclude with a positive. Our football has rediscovered it's free-flowing form and we’re looking creative again. Bad luck and bad finishing the spoiler. That’s a negative, isn’t it? I’ve actually finished on a negative. Sorry. I did try not to.

I will therefore end on the porn star analogy that began this match report. What with us failing to deliver the money shot, we could have facilitated and edited things a little by introducing a smouldering cameo Croatian from the watching flank for that final necessary jolt and essential conclusion to the story arc rather than sticking with pizza delivery boys who forgot the mayo. Sadly, the director ignored this possible saving grace and will probably need to add CGI to make amends. Don’t expect to find the DVD on any top shelf any time soon.

Anyone for a goal?

Is it safe to come out now? Everyone recovered from the debacle at Blackpool? No irony lost on me as I was ravaged and harassed much like our backline was. Rather illness than DJ Campbell witnessed me waste away (I lost 7 pounds). Offside indeed. Arguably a more damaging week for Spurs losing three points that cannot be recovered. I can at least eat a couple of doner kebabs and apply the lost weight in ample time.

What lessons can we take from the defeat? Other than the routine complaints that our forwards are not up to scratch?

1) Our forwards are not up to scratch.
2) Aided by the naivety of pushing forwards in numbers and allowing us to be punished on the counter.

On another day we might have scored a bundle. Oh for that other day.

JD hasn’t been on form for what seems like forever. Perhaps since the 9-1. Injuries aside, he has now taken an almost Pavlyuchenkoesque aura with his under-performing.  

“He’s only just back in the side”
“Needs to rediscover his touch”
“Trying too hard”
“Thinking too much instead of being instinctive”
“Lashing it when he should place it, placing it when he should be lashing it”

etc

In his defence some of his performances have been selfless in terms of sacrificing traditional goal-hanging virtues for more workman like defensive-forward qualities with JD running back into midfield, working the channels and generally doing all the donkey work with movement and pulling defenders away that many would over look because there’s no glam or end product. In these games you could also look towards the lack of creativity in supplying options to the forwards to strike at goal.

Such is the complexities of the current Spurs side that we’re almost performing to paradoxical levels week in week out.

We have spirit and guile and tenacity and most importantly we have team unity and belief (well, apart from Alan Hutton who is apparently in Goa with some old bloke with a white beard claiming to be Lord Lucan). We also have genuine balls deep world class players. In fact, in some ways we have the ilk of player(s) that transcends the accepted quality we usually enjoy at the Lane. We have players who are wonderfully talented as individuals but work majestically well as part of the team – with no determent for their inclusion. The paradox is, us sitting in fourth, could have been third, with hardly a reliable forward to be found. Ours can be easily located in Dubai.

I’d say ‘Crouch’ but I’d be shot down for mouthing it. But at least he tucks into his continentals whilst others choke on their full English. Although, I guess, he also chokes on his English. All a bit over-cooked then.

The only consistency has been the excuses we’ve all discussed post-match as reasons for our failures to see our midfield and attack combine to score goals (rather than goals being scored from midfield).

Apparently, it’s because of van der Vaart. When he plays everything goes through him (via Luka). Hence why it works with Crouch up top as a foil to the movement and endeavour of the Dutch maestro. If he’s missing, we fall back to a more traditional 442 set up. And we make hard work of it when we do. For example, the 3-1 loss to the Tangerines.

It’s pretty obvious stuff. We need something, someone special at Spurs. A player at the same level of a Modric or a van der Vaart. A forward, robust and intelligent who can play it on the ground and isn’t too shabby in the air. Some who can also link up play and allow others to flourish. Equally so, if there is no Drogba out there available then all we need to do is find a Lineker. No wonder we fail at each transfer window, eh?

Nothing new here, hardly a revelation. But all is not lost.

The paradox still has us in the top four with only a couple of recent gut wrenching defeats in the league that have seen us falter.

We have a striker who doesn’t score much, other than in Europe, but does assist.
We have a striker who has forgotten how to score.
We have a striker who seems to perform better as an impact player and can finish the ridiculously sublime but not the ordinary.

In fact, all three of our forwards are probably more suited as Plan B’s from the bench. But we still have to make do with what we have. We have no choice. Nothing we can do about wishful potential signings either. Whether it’s one up front or two, we’ve only got three to choose from.

I know that it’s all very dependent on the availability of vdV in how we line-up and from one game to the next and Harry likes to swap and change, but it’s time now to stick and pray. I don’t just mean with the forwards, but in other areas.

We need cohesiveness from one game to the next. Play the best players in their best positions and if they’re on-form let them retain their place. Sure, tactical reshuffles are a necessity for certain games (Milan) but if we want the midfield to link up with our rouge strike-force then a particular line-up needs to retain its shape. Appreciate squad rotation for freshness and injured players has to be accounted for. But sometimes I don't grasp the reasons for the shuffles. But then I'm just a fan not a coach.

It’s not ideal all this. If you have an in-form striker, someone you have faith in who you can stick up front and you know he’ll give you not just 100% but a little bit of composure too...you wouldn’t complain. Even the best have off days and you’d accept that. What’s frustrating is we’ve seen little in the way of movement in terms of improvements from any of our players other than say Crouch who does impress in those European one-offs.

Pav has never been in the zone. Always fleeting on the edge.
Defoe is a confidence player, scores in bursts, and when he doesn’t is maligned for offering little else.
Crouch is hardly prolific, great foil for vdV or an in form Defoe. But can’t be relied on to notch up the goals.

You can’t be too shocked that were not producing the goods. But even with this motley crue, we’re still someone how in the hunt. Thanks to the strengths of our midfield and the fact that we don’t actually lose that many, so our defence must be doing equally good. That’s the defence that also never remains the same from one week to the next.

We need to be better to consolidate. We have to in order to remain in the fight. To suggest we can’t is the type of pessimistic hoodoo we can do without. Last season we had key midfielders missing. We got on with it.

We’re stuck with the intangible again. So based on blind faith I’m placing hope on our trequartista threesome simply because...we have absolutely nothing else to place our hopes on.

Zonal marking, eat your heart out.

Anyone for a t-shirt?

Entrepreneurial webcomic illustrator/blogger/founder of the Studs Up empire (and all round nice guy) Chris Toy has followed up from his simplistically joyful football culture tee ‘2 points, 8 games, 1 hero’ and ‘Taxi for Maicon’ shirts with another essential must-have.

Oh yeah.

You know you want to.

"Tottenham!"

Simply put; beat Blackpool, finish Top Four.

Drama.

Last season, on a number of occasions, we dropped points but never lost sight of the target. It still took a monumental effort to take us into that must win game at Eastlands, makers of our own destiny if we chose to dare. Which we did. This season the trend has been one surrounding the quality of our form, and that we have yet to truly blossom into a free-flowing rampant goal-getting beast humping our way through the herd never asking for phone numbers or bothering with breakfast. But neither has anyone else. Not a b*stard to be had.

To continue to play this shy game of step aside that everyone seems to be partaking in remains one of great risk.

There is something very Spursesque about us doing it the hard way, written off by our own as well as the press. It's the fuel we consumed during the drive through the 2010 season. You half sort of give up hope because it's easy(ier) to prepare for dejection than it is to build yourself up for an even bigger fall because the height will hurt you even more if said hopes tumble. And climbing that ladder is for some, too much to cope with.

Been there, done it, didn't fall down. We've even moved onto a taller building. Ladder is fairly stern too.

Someone once said something about aiming high and something about an echo. Words mean little without action. We lived the words through our actions which is why, even if it's hardly 'glory' to finish fourth it was a necessary step that had to be fought for and celebrated when achieved.

Plenty believed our season was over at least four or fives times. Just when I thought I was out...they pull me back in. Agony, followed by glee, followed by agony. Would rather this time there was no debate around being anything but in.

Mind your step on the ladder.

Don't care if it's ugly, pretty or lucky. We have to win at Blackpool. I wont go as far as suggesting it would kill any ambitions we have to reclaim a Champions League position. Simply because of how this season has panned out and with the end in sight, nobody has yet to take a stranglehold with their consistency.

Yet. The key word. The same tired excuse to protect the dream.

It's time for us step it up and let others concern themselves with the catching up stuff. The less pressure we have on retaining a top 4 (screw it) a top 3 position as the weeks fly past the better. Our form is actually very good. We've been consistent, accumulating a healthy tally of points. What's required is avoidance of those occasional blips, hiccups that can cause hope to rise in others.

Harry claims (tonight) it's as big as the Milan game. It's not, but it is. It's the most important game we're going to be involved in this evening.

Of course it's frigging important.

What we've achieved in Europe has been nothing short of, well, Tottenham. Our unique brand of swash buckle, heart in mouth comebacks and unexpected (and devastating and patient) dismantling jobs - we've done it all. And nobody can pretend we've not made an impact on the continent. We have proven, without a shadow of a doubt, that we can compete at the very top level. Our learning curve has been one of fizzy refreshment in the usually bland and stale group games and maturity (thus far) in the knock-out stage. Perhaps next season we'd have to adapt further as we'll no longer be unknown entity. If there is a next season.

Blackpool and Wolves away, on paper, easy. In reality, hardly. We all know how the Wanderers have faired this season against the 'big' sides. And we all know how tireless and spirited Blackpool can be. But in paying respect, there's an admittance of the possibility of defeat.

We've yet to cement ourselves as a side that will finish top 4 season in season out. The landscape of the Prem might not allow another monopoly to exist. Others are expected to awake (Chelsea) and take (Man City) what is suggested to be rightfully there's based on the norm and money spent.

And what do I want? All I care for is the monopoly of one. The Tottenham paradox. Even the critics who were scoffing a season and a half ago are now drowning themselves in Lilywhite drenched plaudits. Bizarre but acceptable. But not enough, more is needed. The very thought of defeat pains me. Not that long ago it was almost a bi-weekly emotion. Spent most of the 1990s accepting its inevitability.

And in the present we've been written off more times than I care to count but now expectancy weighs down on us. Time for us all to just admit that we are now a very good side and that when hiccups are suffered, they're just that. And not throw-backs to a disease that still might plague us. We don't choke. We just sometimes, individually or collectively under perform. Like the vast majority of sides. Which is why we have a Spanish Inquisition when it happens.

No under performing tonight please. Let's under perform when we play West Ham and only beat them by three clear goals instead of five.

I know what you're thinking. It's only Blackpool away, get a grip of yourself you drama queen.

It's bread and butter and we need to eat it up. If we're going to truly elevate ourselves onto that next level of competitiveness then we need to show reinforced tenacity, as displayed in the last couple of Prem outings. Every game is a must win, right? But not every game is winnable and there are some games where less than three points (that being quite obviously a draw) is acceptable in the grand scheme of thirty eight games.

I've used that 'excuse' to defend my belief we would finish fourth last season. I've used it once or twice this season. Faith and all. I'm scrapping it for the purpose of our next two games.

This time, I'd rather not do it the hard way. Even if the hard way is the Tottenham way. Even if the hard way is more nail biting, exciting and entices that never say die attitude that makes us perform on an electric level of intensity that can sometimes give ample juice to the adrenalin that drives us beyond limited expectations*. And breathe.

*Best illustrated by the run-in last season which was and still is 'special'.

Belief was the key last time. Momentum, the buzz word for the present. Our progression, evolution - it doesn't stagnate. It hiccups, it's an annoyance, we down a glass of water, it sometimes works, we move on. Not always solving it the same way the next time it happens. But we don't look back. And we always move on.

We are spirited and driven. The culture of comfort at the Lane is long gone and we have players who play for the team, for each other and for the club. Hungry for success. Wanting to better themselves.

We might still lack a cutting edge and perhaps (arguably) there remains doubts on the consistency and delivery of Harry Redknapp's astuteness with tactics. We have key players missing. But yet here we are. In amongst it domestically and swaggering continentally.

Time to prove we can switch on for those wet wintry mid-week games as well as the high profile glamour ties (equally wet). Not just tonight, but Wolves in the next away game too. I have no more nails to bite and my heart is whimpering from the relentless emotional pulls.

The metamorphosis from plucky lucky pretenders to sustained genuine gritty yet silky contenders has to start somewhere.

This rallying war cry is probably going to fall on deaf ears, what with Redknapp citing 'miracle' for us to finish in the top four again. Backs to walls, bare bones. It's how he works his magic. Perhaps the hard way is the only way and I need to stand down from painting myself navy blue and white and screaming at the dodgy internet stream of the match like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. He failed (William Wallace) in the end. Aimed very high. However, even in his failure there was an echo of glory.

Hanged, disembowelled, drawn and quartered. Let it be the ones in Orange not the ones in Lilywhite.

Hiccups? Hold your breath.

Either way, I'm still going to need a heart transplant.

 

Not Tonight Sandra, I've Got A Headache

guestblog by chrisman

Sandra Redknapp is going to have a lot of time to catch up on her knitting over the next few
nights, because her husband Harry has a case of what's commonly known as 'selection headache'. Usually he's a sexual tyrant, but recent events have given him a bit of a 'narky miff' and left him unable to 'smash it' with any real conviction.

Now that we've all calmed down and had a chance to think about Tuesday's Triple Epic-Burger, a few things are becoming clear. One fact, lost in the ethereal San Siro mist, was that it was our first away win in this season's Champions League. Actually, it was only our second away win in the competition, ever (the other being over Feyenoord in 1962-63).

More importantly, the win was based on the defensive stability that served us so well in reaching the Promised Land in the first place. These may not seem like things that would normally give you a headache, but when Harry starts thinking about why we were suddenly so solid, he might come to some troubling conclusions.

So what was different from the away days of Bremen, Enschede and Milan last year? The obvious answer is that the Gallas-Dawson axis is now in full effect. But that doesn't explain the often-frantic defending and lack of shape and discipline against Sunderland, Blackburn and Everton (to name a few). Nor does it explain it's absence in Milan on Tuesday.

Sure, the players raised their performance levels for the big one, but if there is one thing you can't really accuse Spurs of these days, it's lack of effort in the 'smaller' games. The commitment is there. But the stability of last year is not. King has been a big miss, but we have a good replacement in Gallas. Huddlestone's absence has been more keenly felt, simply because no one has been able to adequately fill his shoes. Until now.

Sandro, please step forward. You are the man to pick up the gauntlet laid down by Big T's vastly-underestimated defensive displays. People tend to throw around, in a willy-nilly manner, all kinds of comments about Tom's defensive abilities, or lack of them. 'He's slow, lumbering, lazy, a big girl's blouse'. Well willy this nilly - he's a bloody good defender.

We sometimes forget that he started life as a centre half. He has an ingrained defensive nous that other midfielders will never have. He instinctively knows where the centre-half wants him to be. He knows how and where an attack is going to develop. He knows when to tackle and when to jockey. And as well as Wilson and JJ have played at times this season, neither of them will ever have any of these abilities. Physically, they have it all. Technically, they are excellent. Mentally, they lack that extra couple of percent of discipline, concentration and decisiveness that separates very good players from great ones.

JJ and Wilson are both at their best when they are running, and using their fantastic pace and athleticism. But when your main role should be as a shield to the back 4, it's often best to restrict your movement to a few square yards. To really work effectively as a unit with your 2 centre-backs, you have to be close to them and move with them. JJ and Wilson are too erratic and spasmodic with their positioning and movement. Both could potentially work well in a 2 or 3 man midfield, but with someone to sweep up behind them and allow them to maraud around the pitch.

Sandro on the other hand is at his happiest about 5 yards in front of the centre-backs, ready to make a challenge outside or clearance inside the box. When people talk about the Makelele role, they usually associate it with passing and starting attacks. What they often underestimate is the selfless and disciplined nature of the role. Rarely should you pass the halfway line (an attitude people criticize Big T for having). Even the full backs can get forward more. Sandro loves doing that grimy, filthy defensive work.

Against AC Milan, with Sandro match-fit, bedded-in and playing well, we comfortably repelled their attacks. Ok, there were a couple of headers, but we followed the tried and tested template of last season - sit back, let the defenders defend, and hit them on the break. Apart from the 2 headers, Gomes was untroubled. We kept them at arms length on the edge of the box. Calm, controlled, clinical. The compact triangle of CBs and DM could not be penetrated by the trio of Ibra, Robinho and Pato.

So where from here? The easy answer is 'straight ahead', with a simple tweak of swapping Palacios for Modric. But will Harry be willing to effectively have Sandro do a double-leapfrog over Wilson and JJ? Or will he be a bit sly, and with a nod to pragmatism 'rest' van der Vaart and go with JJ or Wilson in the middle with Modric, and Sandro behind?

In reality, if we're only playing 1 up top, van der Vaart needs to be in the team - if fit. That leaves 1 space in the midfield alongside Modric and van der Vaart, and considering  you want the magical pair to have as much freedom as possible, it makes sense to play a disciplined, selfless player with them. That player is Sandro. There are, however, other options....

One idea I'm sure Harry has toyed with is playing van der Vaart in a wider role. Van der Vaart excels most when he has space and time, and he doesn't always find that when playing in the congested central area with big bruising PL players. So moving him to a wider starting position may give him more room to pick up the ball and use that murderous left foot. He played wide right in some games earlier in the season and it worked. It could easily work again.

Another positive for this formation is that Lennon is apparently pretty comfortable switching flanks and cutting inside with his dribbling. So you get 2 great creators out wide, and 3 solid men in the middle (Sandro, Modric, JJ/Wilson). Essentially all you are doing is swapping Pienaar for JJ or Wilson, and in doing so are giving yourselves more speed and power in the middle to give your match-winners more freedom to win matches.

Despite all of this, I'm sure it's also going to be hard for Harry to resist the temptation to re-unite Crouch and Defoe up front. Blackpool will obviously come forward and leave us lots of space. Defoe could bag a couple and get his confidence back in time for the run-in. But will loading the strikers and leaving the midfield relatively bare (Lennon-Sandro-Modric-VDV) play right into Blackpool's hands?

The pragmatist in Harry surely will not allow him to be so gung-ho, and that means dropping one of the seemingly undroppable trio of Modric, Lennon and van der Vaart. All logic therefore points towards a 5-man midfield, but then again Harry's feelings for the Defoe-Crouch partnership have always been about more than mere logic. It's just something he feels comfortable with. But on recent performances, both from the team and Defoe individually, it seems the days of the 4-4-2 may be numbered, especially away from home. And since the next 2 games are indeed away from home, Harry is going to have to make some tough, emotional choices.

Sandro, Palacios, Jenas, Modric, Pienaar, Kranjcar, Lennon, VDV (edit: not so fit). That's 8 fit and on-form midfielders. Good luck Harry, and Sandra...call me.

To Dare is to do 'em

Meelan 0 Tottenham 1

Football at the best of times is unpredictable. Expect the unexpected and such. It’s mostly unpredictable when attempting to assess how a game might pan out based on, well, based on form and selection and tactics and formation – which all stem from plenty of pre-match discussion in the build up to kick-off.

Myself and quite a few of you made a series of assumptions, much like we always do before a game. In this case, it’s AC Milan away and we’ve got a long list of missing players. I won’t talk about you here and instead concentrate for a moment on my preview of the game for a moment. Rather than attempt a zonal marking styled deep thinking analysis, I just opted for the subtle war cry based on the power of belief, emotion. You know, the fluffy stuff. With some controlled attacking football and plenty of heart and tenacity. It’s the easy way to write up a preview. Just ask and hope that the team stand strong together and give it some.

I was naive with my predicted starting eleven but then I hardly care for my foolishness. Because Harry Redknapp, that’s tactically astute Harry Redknapp, got it completely on the money, so much so that perhaps some of the non-believers will nod a gentle acknowledgement in his direction as a way of a thank you for leading the team out in the San Siro in possibly the most unexpected of circumstances in terms of performance and end result. Mature, disciplined and unequivocally focused from start to finish. What’s that? Magnificent? Go on then, and throw me a superb and a great to go with it.

Perhaps part of the misconception pre-match was spending too much time on those assumptions made about how the game would play out. A lot was made of Milan and their defensive and offensive qualities in their domestic campaign. Plenty of superlatives were made of their forwards and their experienced Champions League seasoned performers. Whilst most of us took extracted moments of indecisiveness and weakness from our league games and continued agendas against players we either dislike or don’t rate simply because of inconsistency and frustration back in the bread and butter of the Prem.

Equally so, many critics and neutrals cited our swashbuckling ‘we’re gonna score one more than you’ mantra from the group games and the additional possibility of a re-occurrence of stage fright.

So many potentials. Which is why I kept it simple before the game. Show some heart and some intent without playing over elaborate football that would leave us open to punishment.

‘Would still rather get knocked out giving it a right proper go than conceding defeat by allowing fear to consume us’

What we did instead, and kudos to Harry, is set the team up to be highly competitive in the middle – the foundation to build on for the rest of the side to retain the ball, work tirelessly off it to regain it when lost and endeavour to push into forward positions to possibly carve out an opportunity.

I’m not going to be critical at all at the lack of massive chances/shots on the Milan goal. Let’s just remember nobody gave us a chance of winning, most of us thought we’ve do good to lose 2-1. The application and delivery of the team and instructions the gaffer gave them is testament to what we can achieve when we are completely focused – no matter who is missing.

Doesn’t matter if one of the assumptions made was over-rating the Italians or even under-estimating Harry. This was no fluke 94 minutes of football. This was a set of players proving to themselves, to us, to everybody that they compete at the very top level. I’m sure if we were full strength and Milan had their best side, we’d have witnessed an absolute humdinger. Instead, we got a top class display of character and concentration, frustrating the home side to the point of petulance (go on then Gattuso, have a go if you think you’re hard enough, Jordan eats hairy cavemen for breakfast, turns his milk hairy) and half-chances and cheating.

Tottenham, going all weak at the knees from fear when bullied by Young Boys to standing tall (in one case that extra bit taller) and executing a clinical whack to the back of the head of one of the dons of the European family.

How did we achieve it?

Gomes between the sticks. No dramatics. Just acrobatics. Two brilliant saves, the first game-saving. Did nothing wrong. When this Brazilian is on this type of form you’d let him sleep with your...well, you probably wouldn’t but it’s the thought that counts.

Corluka and BAE both linking up superbly with Lennon and Pienaar down the flanks. Charlie a victim of former scum, always scum Flamini. How he wasn’t sent off for his two-footed tackle is beyond most of us. Big of him to apologise post-game. Wondering how many flowers he would have had to bring to the hospital bed of Corluka if he had broken his leg. Hoping it’s not too serious, he’s (Charlie) a class act and he’s about 1000 times more reliable at the back than Hutton.

Benny was also a class act, as he’s been all season long. Doesn’t care about football, hey? Wish players cared as little as he did. 21 mis-placed passes apparently. Best drop him to the bench then.

Dawson and Gallas were also bang on it. It’s strange how leading up to this game Daws seemed out of sorts, erratic. Both were solid and without error, always in the right place to tidy-up. The whole backline suffocated the Zlatan Zeppelin, burning the big balloon of hot air to the ground. Hardly any time for Ibra, Robinho and the harassed (mostly by Wilson) Seedorf to play clever intricate balls. And even though Pato introduced an improved dimension to Milan’s play in the second half, it still wasn’t enough to generate any ilk of nerves and knee-jerks.

Sandro. Palacios. Our two defensive midfielders in the middle tirelessly biting at ankles. Wilson perhaps over enthusiastic at times and still occasionally too slow to move the ball on when in possession – but enough negatives. His first half performance was part of the catalyst that saw us nullify any threat. Milan’s midfield had no time to think or create and simply failed to take a stranglehold allowing us to dictate our own comfort. Talk about taking responsibility. Well done.

The selection of Sandro was a master-stroke. Pre-match (assumptions) you wondered if it was fair, the baptism of fire. Some doubt lingered, to do with playing him alongside Wilson. It worked perfectly. He’s always struck me as a player that remains unfazed and mentally strong. Just off the Prem pace at times as he finds his feet in England, but in this clash – top drawer. Showed glimpses of the future. Positioning and movement, quick on his feet when using his brain and his tackle (ooh). Just ace. He's going to be a beast. But the type of beast that never looks he's going to break sweat beasting it. Well done Spurs scouts...you do exist afterall.

Outlet of Lennon on the wing and Pienaar on the opposite flank chasing down balls as well as aiding when moving it forward. Azza (with no Bale) was always going to be key to crafting out a chance - what with us set-up with just the two dimensions (Lennon, on the flank, Crouch up top with his head). Got into some great positions, not always the best cross and sometimes not used and found when perhaps his team mates should have looked towards him to pass. But how simple and cool and calm was the only pass that mattered, off the feet of Aaron to the feet of Crouch?

Pienaar, pre-match, spoke about European football being just like a game of chess, and once more, some of us scoffed that this would mean Harry would perhaps look to sit back, defend, soak it up and counter. Not quite sit back and defend with complete lack of ambition, but counter we did – and it was worthy of bishop taking queen, chess board knocked to ground with the opposing player trying to head butt the victor.

van der Vaart, intelligent on the ball, off it, led by example. This guy cost £8M for the love of God, we should write up a cheque to Madrid for an extra £25M because the guilt must be killing us. Cracking effort with the chip, just sublime, just not quite perfect for what would have been the ultimate. What was so brilliant about his role, his responsibility out there, was his link-up play was practically seamless when he left the field of play to be replaced by Modric.

Both players, obviously not 100%, yet both imperious to making it tick, what with the overwhelming physicality of our DM’s allowing pockets of freedom to roam. Luka, armed with remote control (the ball has an electronic chip in it) hardly ever losing possession, dinking here there and everywhere – always looking for a touch and a pass, always making sure we didn’t stagnate and remain motionless. Earlier in the game, especially the first half, I kept thinking had he started I would not have been anywhere near being nervous. The game was so made for him to dictate. It was just good to have him back and no surprise he was involved in the goal.

Sandro interception, Modric releasing Lennon, Lennon running full pelt, finding Crouch, superb finish. 0-1. Bask in a classic counter-attack. What I thought we couldn't do, we did. Soak it up, hit 'em on the break.

And what of Mr Majorly Maligned? Did not expect him to be fit (I guess that was the closet thing to kidology we got pre-match), possibly wasn’t completely in prime condition (sorry if I missed it but I’m guessing he took injections to play?) showed us that on the right stage and most definitely in Europe’s elite competition, he is imperative to how we line-up. It just works. Doesn’t matter how or why, it just does. Diagonal balls to his head (not that he got many of them thanks to the panic marking), the flick-ons, the chest downs and holding up of the ball, his touch and his composure when handed the golden opportunity for that all important away goal. Yet another player who did not stop working till the final whistle. Also did well to keep the dog on its leash. Plenty of bark, no bite. And no problem for Peter to laugh off.

They all worked their socks off. What topped it all off was Woodgate coming on (still having to rewind and re-watch...it’s him, it’s not CGI, I’m certain of it). Niko also impressive when taking to the field.

All of it, the way the script unravelled itself, just perfectly. Selection, temperament, tempo and belief. Confidence simply oozed.

Sure, we had one or two heart in mouth moments, great call at the death from the assistants who disallowed the Ibra bicycle kick. Would have been tragic to draw, even though that would have been more than acceptable before kick-off.

The first half – one of the best 45 minutes I’ve seen in terms of how we conducted ourselves. Owning their patch and dominant in application.

The second half – Milan asked more questions, but just fumbled and stuttered as they attempted to make a statement. Spurs making paper aeroplanes out of the crumbled paper-thin attempts. And on the occasions they did manage to be concise and to the point, we (Gomes especially) countered it with a sterling comeback, faltering any chance of a sustained argument.

Meelan, not having Pirlo in there was very much detrimental to how we all expected them to perform. I guess, perhaps in some way, they were disjointed (something I would have tagged us with when witnessing Sandro and Wilson starting) and they struggled to get to grips leaving us to take the initiative. Even on the back foot we remained tight and crowded out their attacks. Gattuso summed them up. Uncertain, erratic and nervous. He's also apologised for his actions. He'll miss the return. Says he and Jordan were both talking Scottish to each other on the touchline, during their fiery incidents. What's Scots Gaelic for 'you're missing with the wrong man son'?

So, in conclusion, I wanted us to have a go. And we did, but we did so with an unexpected twist. We birthed offensive play from the sheer gritty defensive qualities we displayed from start to finish. Even if it was partly one-dimensional. It was enough to come away victorious. We did not allow anything to rattle us. Even when it got a little tasty and dirty. Although I found myself laughing at Gattuso punching the ground (if that’s meant to rile up the home support perhaps we can get one of our players to run out with a spade in the home leg and dig a hole for the Milan players to hide in).

Wasn't pure Tottenham in terms of exhilarating pulsating expansive football. But it worked. And kudos again to the gaffer for it. Milan, out-smarted. Defensively, flawless. Italy's top side contained. Clean sheet – what more can you ask for? Away goal? Got that too. Every man a hero. Would dearly like to understand the psychology behind how teams can produce football performances like this. I dare us to perform like that week in week out. We won't, but then if we continue to play like this in the CL, our adventure might yet continue into the quarters.

Professional and mature Tottenham. What happened to the 4-3's then?

English clubs have a habit of getting results in the San Siro. Looks like we've gatecrashed yet another party. Outstanding performance. This team proved on their day they can compete with anyone. No fear. Belief, it transcends individuals and players to the next level. We have to win games like last night to breed that winning mentality. The further we get into this competition the better we'll be for it. Take this attitude to the Prem please.

Our evolution continues.

As for the return leg? Harry has to make sure that the players understand this is far from over, backs to wall regardless of last night. We should play out the return leg like we're a goal down. Some of that Spurs v Inter intensity. Bale should be back. Modric and vdV might start. I expect us to revert back to a more traditional controlled attacking style, marauding down both flanks with devastating pace. Refer you again to the dismantling of Inter. That’s how we should set up to play. It’s only 1-0. And even though the likes of Ibra and Robinho flatter to deceive and tend to disappoint, both are more than capable of scoring something out of nothing. Especially as many now would pencil us the favourites to get through.

We can worry about that in three weeks time.

Football, it’s about moments. So please do stick this one in your history books. Until we meet the The Rossoneri again, go get drunk on the fumes of yet another Glory Glory night.

COYS

To Dare is to do 'em.



The Five Stages

Denial.

It's not two points dropped - it's a point gained at Fortress St Andrews. Chelsea got nothing there. We've got players out injured, about sixty to seventy players. We're decimated. Our defence is beyond the realms of depletion. We've got a sixth choice centre-back in there ffs people! And JD is a bit rusty what with only just returning from injury. But it's still all good. We got a point there last season too, didn't we? It's a good result. And don’t fret, Defoe will regain his sharpness soon, he's three to four games away from being fully fit. Just needs a couple more appearances on the Xtra Factor and he'll be tip top. He'll be able to beat the offside trap blindfolded, I promise you. There’s nothing wrong with our strike-force. It will come good soon. They got lucky, should have been three or four to us. Mark my words. Everything is just fine. It's dandy.

Anger.

Mary mother of Christ, why? Why damn it, why? What's the point in beating Arsenal and Liverpool and then not following it up with another win? Can we not just hold out in the final ten minutes of a game? Its ten minutes. That's ten minutes of pulling it and holding it together without collapsing. Ten minutes, it’s not exactly the length of time it took Benjamin Button to regress from an old man back into a baby. And yet we manage to turn from giants into mice the moment the clock ticks over the 80th minute mark.

Same old Tottenham. Why didn’t Harry instruct his players correctly from the dugout? What the hell does he get paid to do? All he has to do is change it, you know, do something. Formations or something clever. Or a sub or two but not a substitution that fails to make us win. The sub has to work. And if it does works then, granted, it won't be down to him, just luck, but at least the result will be in our favour.

Ten minutes left and they equalise. It's gotta be Harry and his non-existent tactics. All his previous victories against Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool and City? Flukes. The lot of them. Flukes. He doesn't have a clue. Winging it. That's what he's doing. I could do his job. Sit on the bench, twitch a bit. Send a Russian on. Easy.

And Crouch, what is the point of Crouch exactly? We might as well play a ladder up front, it would probably give away fewer free kicks and is undoubtedly a better dancer. Can't head the ball, the ladder, so no difference there.

Why can't we just stick our chances away like other top top sides do? Harry really doesn't have a clue with how to make our forwards move about the pitch aptly and kick the ball in the net. Useless.

Bargaining.

Please tell me it's going to be fine? I promise to wash my lucky 1981 circa y-fronts  for the first time if we can just win two or three on the bounce. That's all I want. Just another run of games, three points a time. I promise I won't slate Jenas or Wilson or Crouchie. And no more accidental collisions with Chirpy when he's out shopping for the weekend in Tesco's. Unless he stares at me because then he's asking for a punch in his big fat stupid head. Or the back of his head when he's not looking, depends where I'm positioned to be honest. And if his wife, the skanky chicken, happens to get in the way. Self-defence your honour, self defence.

I'll sing my heart out unequivocally just for some sustained consistency and end product. We just need a defensive midfielder in there to compensate for the determent of our creative players always pushing up and the inability of our forwards to retain possession in the final third. Wasteful of the ball in areas of intent. Which results with the likelihood of dropped points because we allow the opposition a chance to claw it back. It’s cheap.

One goal is never enough, right? Or is it? No, it is. I reckon it is. If we don’t ship any in the opposite direction.

Depression.

What's the point? I can't handle this. I can't handle the expectancy and the pressure of needing us to win every game. It's just too much weight for me to carry on my shoulders. City have too much money, we can't compete, we just can't compete. In the long run we're going to lose out, so what's the bleeding point of it all if it's going to end in tears? We're gonna be crippled by the new stadium any  ways.

And Bale. Christ, we're going to sell Bale, I can feel it in my bones. Levy wants the money for his transfer kitty when we move to Stratford. Oh God no, not Stratford. I can't handle this, I don’t want to handle any of it. Just want peaceful tranquillity. This is just too much. We didn't even get a club shop dvd of the 3-2 win at the swamp. The Arsenal fans were right, it doesn't count. It doesn't count! Should have been a dvd! Ah damn you! God damn you all to hell!

And St Andrews. 1-1, when it should have been 1-0. I'd rather not experience this ilk of low. I wish we were mid-table going nowhere again. That type of hurt, it's hurt I can live with. Its gentle hurt, not losing three on the trot is 'good form' type of hurt. We're rubbish but its okay we're rubbish. Like West Ham. That type of disappointment, that type of expected disappointment, it's easier to cope with.

One clean sheet in twenty-two. One clean sheet in twenty-two. How's this title winning form? We might not be bottom but we should be. This is an unmitigated disaster. I'm taking the toaster to the bathroom. Oh Christ, I forgot to pay the electricity bill. I hate you Tottenham.

Acceptance.

It's going to be fine. We've been here before haven't we? We drew, it's not like we lost. We drew up at Everton last season, that was a far worst result but it didn't matter in the end. We learnt from it. We've got a patched up defence coming off one of the best weeks in our recent history, qualifying for the Champions League with a game to spare. Not much Harry could have done tactically. Gone more defensive? Killed the game off? Perhaps. But if the Brummies had scored after a tactical change by the gaffer he'd have been slated for not being positive enough had he gone defensive. If Pav had knocked one in we'd all be laughing now. Mistakes, individual mistakes are hardly the fault of the manager. Need to be clinical up top. Then manager will be deemed a genius.

Dropped points might catch up with you by the end of the season but then again it probably won't when others are dropping points but I guess had we picked up points when we needed to we could have placed down a marker and pushed onwards because if we win and others don't then we've got an advantage but it's hardly as convincing as when we drop points and they win. When that happens we're in masses of trouble. So what will be will be. We'll end up where we deserve to end up. Much like last season.

5th spot currently. Six points off the top. Three points off the Champions League places. Yes, yes, all good. 1-1 draw with Birmingham just another reminder of what needs to be fixed if we're going to progress to the next level:

Clean sheets. Defence needs to be consistent. Midfield bossing the tempo and dictating play - i.e. shut up shop, kill the game off with controlled possession. Do not invite the opposition to come a knocking on the door. Forwards holding up the ball intelligently and finishing off chances, clinically.

Easy. Jot it down on a clipboard.

Next up, Chelsea. It's up to Harry to navigate us through the game to victory using Cerebro-amplified powers to man-manage our players minds and feet and result with the Prem League offering us four points for the win.

Patience, it's the key. Missing players returning, the January window opening. I can wait. Patience. I promise I've got patience in abundance. We're not doing all that shabby all things considering. I can wait. Just a bit longer. We're almost there. I'm in the departure lounge. Just waiting for the delayed outgoing flight to be scheduled for boarding. Got my ticket. Not long now, not long. One way ticket to the that bit of land just beyond the promised land.

It’s going to be fine.

Faith. Keeping it.

Massively.

Fix Bayonets Men! Follow Me To Glory!

Away to Birmingham. Remember this fixture last season? Should have won, conceded late on. Felt dejected at the final whistle, the loss of two points a body blow leaving us winded but hardly down and out. I'd be equally despondent if we drop points again. That marker we keep toying with, it's on the table. It just needs to be pushed inwards a little more. Don't want it falling off.

Birmingham followed by Chelsea, with Twente sandwiched in the middle and then a potential banana skin away to Blackpool before the post-Christmas fixture list snows down on us.

I love this time of year. The games, they come thick and fast. Equally so do the points if we're on top of our form and more so the momentum gained in a short space of time that could elevate us into a lofty position that makes the opening of the transfer window in January one of lip-licking excitement.

Time to apply the pressure on those around us.

Consolidation is only a possibility if we have something to build on which is stronger than just a foundation of hope and promise. Intent and end product. Forgetting Europe, we've won three successive games in the league and we're unbeaten in four. We continue to claw back victory from the jaws of defeat. We continue to perceiver with the loss of key players. There's spirit in this side. And whenever you think (and others hope) we are heading for a crisis we don't. Because that's not our bag any more. Crisis is a strong word, but these days it's altogether a different animal. Remember what a crisis was? We'd not win for five or six games playing dejectable calamity stricken football with our players falling over in their ballet shoes as they whisper to each other, 'I can do it too with Kandoo' whilst we discuss a potential new managerial appointment.

Crisis? Last time out was when we managed a lowly amount of points from a slightly pro-longed run of games. I forget the associated numbers, but I'll look on Facebook later to see if the Relegation Party has retained the finer details. The crux of it is, we were shambolic or always a couple of goals away from forcing ourselves into shambolicistic performances. No backbone and no actual template of structure. Yes Harry is very much a hug 'em type of man-manager. Gets the best out of players, plays them in their best positions and strives to strike a  chord with their confidence so that they enjoy their football and believe in themselves and the team. It's expressive, not quite expansive - but it works. And there's continued growth in the side if you look at mentality and focus.

Okay so hands up I admit like you would that this season has been erratic. But an erratic Spurs side of the past would find its self mid-table and unlikely to muster up, say, sixteen points from a losing position. Not that we should be using a team of old as a a gauge of progression. We've been mislead in the past way too often. The standards we set and achieve today should then be placed aside as we continue to improve further. Enjoy pockets of success (beating Arsenal away and ending the run of 68 games against traditional Top 4 opposition by throwing shirts into the stands) but then move on. Don't dwell. Learn from it and then deem it as a non-importance whilst new challenges are tagged with 'seek and destroy'.

A relentless hunger. Is what we should have. Harry having words with Bale over his handshake with an enemy player in the NLD speaks volumes. It might be an obvious characteristic of the teams who have spent the last couple of decades ahead of us, but its something we've lacked. Bite. Selfishness. Preservation of ones self above and beyond anything. We don't quite have that killer instinct. Not yet.

I'd wager you'd have to be a pretty awful coach not to be able to get this Spurs side to do well. Be it clipboard or no clipboard, Harry's approach (get Sherwood, Ferdinand, Parks etc to coach players in groups based on position with Bond and Jordan strutting their stuff on the training pitch) then tell them pre-game in dressing room to run around a lot and kick it in the net might be the most non-illustrious but effective display of keeping it simple tactics the Prem has ever witnessed. But he's not - as some have suggested - winging it. This is top tier football, not pub landlord on the touchline on a frosty morning over at Hackney Marshes.

We have shaped up plenty of times this season to deal with the opposition at hand and have also re-shaped when necessary to combat in-game dynamics. There is so much a manager can get out of his players with expression birthed from confidence. Although there is something very Tottenhamesque about just going out there and playing football, even if it's a giddy mixture of swashbuckle and caviller with heavy doses of dramatic twists and turns. Imagine if Harry was 10% more shrewd. But then we need to keep pinching ourselves and remember this is a new age Spurs. We are surfing high on a learning curve rather being water boarded in another transitional drowning session.  

It's easy to be critical because you can easily find yourself susceptible to the weight of expectancy. I said a pretty awful coach you'd be if you failed to get something from this current Spurs squad. What I meant was - we have an abundance of quality players who we can depend on. We look good on paper and just as good on the pitch. So it's a case of managing them and not over-complicating matters. And with each passing game a new obstacle is overcome and a new character trait is added to our ever growing goody bag of colourful traity sweets. No choking here. No sucking either. Just delicious crunchy delights.

You can’t become a winner if you don't win. I know that's the king of understatements but it's obvious that Tottenham have to mature from plucky defiant soldiers to eye of the tiger warriors using the blood of their left for dead opponents as war paint for the next battle. War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. Someone once said.

That's why even if we are stepping up to score last minute goals and winning from losing positions - it all counts. And it will all level out to something more controlled because it has to if we want more out of all this gradual progress. I'm certain it will level out to something stronger in time. The fact that a crisis these days is when we drop a couple of points or don't play too well but still win is a statement of progression. Yeah sure it's not open bus parade territory just yet, but let's remember how paralysing the past decade or so has been for everyone outside the monopoly.

Keep it simple.

Birmingham don't score that many at home. We should avoid thinking about Tuesday. Attack 'em.

I want that marker super-glued to the table.

How to win a North London Derby, by Harry Redknapp and supporting cast

Arsenal 2 Spurs 3

Oh ye of little faith. Myself included. Go on, hands up, even in the dejection and misery felt when the second Arsenal goal went in who had a feeling that somehow we were not out of the game? Even if you couldn't quite bring yourself to believe, I'm certain there were many of us out there who took solace in the fact that surely things would not get any worse which would mean they could only get better. And Spurs, when they do better it's not the bog standard type of bland and boring good. It's undeniable heart in mouth fantastic good.

The way we shaped up for the first half wasn't the only problem we gave ourselves. Giving space to Fabregas and the scum allowing for infinite time on the ball for them to lap up whilst we failed to display any guile or determination, brushed aside with ample easy. It was all gearing up to be another textbook Emirates humiliation. Let's all lube up and bend over because it's less work than standing up against the wall and throwing the bar of soap at their smug terrorising face.

Not sure what the worst highlight of the first half was for me. Gomes trying to claim the ball softly softly, scared it might suddenly and inexplicably evolve into something with a mouth and bite his hands off. Our Brazilian preferring to squander it allowing Nasri (the first ever female professional footballer to participate amongst men) to score from an acute angle for the 1-0. Cheap. Stupidly cheap. The ball from deep that found its way into the path of the ugly bint was from our seasoned tormenter Cesc who was given the freedom of the park to turn and pass. You felt at this ever so early juncture he would do this at will.

Another highlight was Nasri running off to celebrate, screaming out and slapping his chest and badge. I guess all for Willy G's benefit. Calm down Zizou. The second goal was another nomination for worst highlight of the first forty five. Because of the nature of its birth. Pav, keeping the ball in, but not in our possession (not that I'm blaming him but he started the move, the unlucky sod, from our own penalty area) for them to then counter attack off the back of it and score - it was easy. Comfortable. Effortless.

Cracking stuff. Sorry I meant cacking stuff. I was cacking it.

Surrendering by virtue of not turning up. Again. I was being inundated with texts messages and tweets. Laugh out loud they told me. I was at home, on my own in the living room, with the missus pottering about in the kitchen/bedrooms/wherever tidying up. Still slightly more noise than you'd expect to find at the Emirates, especially once she started to hoover up the hallway. But I sat in solitude, no words from my mouth other than a muttering of 'ffs'.

Volume on the tv was turned down, I didn’t bother with the half-time Sky Sports assessment. I didn't need two pundits and a presenter to tell me we were f*cking sh*t. It's not like Arsenal were tearing us a new one. They were having a go. Okay perhaps they were tearing us a new one because a comparison of both sides would have had us at opposite sides of the footballing spectrum.

They dominated possession, had us chasing shadows. Slick passing whilst we burst lungs for what seemed like nothing.

But yet that whisper in my mind taunted and teased me. It's only two nil right? I playfully posted on the Glory Glory forum at half time we'd win 3-2. A gleeful prediction shared out of desperation. First five minutes I said to myself, we'll know if once more we have displayed a lack of mental strength and belief that will doom us to yet another away failure to them and a 69th away game without a win to the traditional Top 4.

Within five minutes of the re-start, we scored.

It's the type of irony that I'd happily share a bed with and go bareback. Here is Tottenham Hotspur. Unused clipboard. No tactics. Completely out of the game and suddenly not just back in it with a goal but looking like we believe we could get something more out of it.

Harry is not Jose. Never will be. And it's usually all pretty much reactive and instinctive in terms of application. He adapts to the predicament and the players react to his new instructions. It's refreshing, be it naïve at times, and frustrating (the question still remains: Why not start off the opening minute the way we started off the 46th minute?).

Harry twitched and tweaked. He narrowed the midfield so that we were no longer stretched on the flanks. Tightened it up so that we could not just stand up against their midfield but take the fight to them - make them chase us and the ball. And the introduction of Defoe (on for the sacrificed Lennon) was the catalyst for the comeback.

BAE finding Defoe who jumped six hundred feet into the air to head the ball onto van der Vaart who had sixteen Arsenal players around him, pushing the ball into the path of a marauding rampant Bale who caressed it with one touch and passed it into the net with this another. It was bliss. It was a punch to the gut of the enemy that left them winded unable to stand up in defiance. World class control and finish from a player that will be world class in time.

We can chat away amongst ourselves about how they reacted to our goal, if you want. Perhaps for all their fancy pretty football and stand-out individuals, they lack a spirit and belief they once had in abundance. Who cares? I don't. We've been gutless for years and in the past two we've grown in stature and I'm hardly going to make excuses for the opposition. If they can't handle it and if they allow themselves to be engulfed by a resurgence in-game, then boo f*cking hoo. It makes them not good enough to win. Our places on that football spectrum - reversed.

As the minutes ding donged by we started to show commitment. Pride. Apparently at half-time Harry had a go at Bale for shaking Sagna's hand after a clash. Told him off, explaining we are not 'nice guys'. Whatever you say about Harry and his agenda(s), he wants to win. And if he's our manager then that means he wants us to win. He worked magical mojo at half-time that galvanised the side and allowed our top players to further galvanise the ones around them.

This meant the likes of vdV and Modric were now more involved able to play to their strengths. JD up top with Pav, vdV out on the right but running into central positions. 4-4-2, be it not set in stone. We were set up with one thing in mind. Attack. The intent forged with leadership - something you might nod towards the opposition and agree they lacked. It was more direct in style in terms of pushing forwards but it was effective and it instilled confidence.

How many times have we seen this now? Never say die Spurs. We lived dangerous at times but we have to accept that this new breed of Spurs has it in them to claw themselves back from the brink.

Belief.

Luka weaving and dinking through red shirts only to be fouled (more irony here - isn't it Wenger who constantly bangs on about flair players being hacked down constantly?) allowing for Kaboul and Rafa to stand over the ball, surveying options. Blast it through or curl it around?

What we got was a gift, one to cancel out the generosity of the first we gave them. Hands up if you're a bottler? Thank you Cesc. Heart in mouth once more. Cool as you like, Rafa sends him the wrong way. There's even time for some age-old conspiracy support work from Phil Dowd who booked Raf for placing his finger to his mouth whilst running past and looking at the Arsenal fans before he got to the away section to celebrate. Because that's really really worth a yellow card that. Unlike, I don’t know, an Arsenal player scoring at one end of the pitch and running down to the other end and sliding in front of the away fans.

2-2. And one or two red scarfed fans must have muttered to each other about choking and capitulation. Usually associated with Lily white and not ghastly red. Unlike the classic 4-4 there was still time on the clock and the third goal helped to illustrate that even though our defence is much maligned (with three key players out) their defence (with one key player out) is at times as accommodating us ours. I'd still prefer Gomes between the sticks than what they have to choose from.

In came the cross from Rafa (yet again involved), Kaboul's touch with his head finding its way into the net. This was now ridiculous. Uncharted (well, forgotten) territory. 2-0 down, 3-2 up. 17 years finally ended. Sixty eight games laid to rest. How very dare we. Can the new script-writer be signed on a 20 year contract please?

I screamed and shouted like a mad man whilst the missus (now sitting on the sofa whilst I bounced off the walls) asked me, "You're not going to start crying, are you?"

I held the tears back, man up I told myself. Like the eleven heroes standing proud on the swamp, within touching distance of a win. I remembered the words of a gooner (via Twitter) at half-time telling me in an unholy patronising manner that it was all okay because we had Bale and you never know - we might roar back in the second half. Now that's irony. I think there must be a network outage in his area because he's not been online since.

Eleven heroes.

And in amongst the talismanic leader and undoubted world class ability of van der Vaart and our crafter of creative work Luka we had Gareth 'never does it in the league' Bale and a certain Jermaine Jenas who has managed to make us forget that Huddlestone is missing from our midfield. At the back Kaboul, continuing to grow and mature and casting himself as a brand new NLD 'legend' for popping up with the winner.

And then there's William Gallas. Not good enough to have his hand shaken by Nasri, but more than good enough to shake the spark out of his former team-mates. Whether he is reclaiming past form or played to impress because of the occasion (or a combination of both) he deserves the plaudits for a commanding performance. And I hope he continues to play at this level. He has done himself a massive favour, endearing himself to the faithful. He's proved a point, to us, himself and them lot down the road.

I wasn't sure what to make of Harry handing him the captains armband. I'm hardcore Tottenham like most of you I guess, and it's sometimes hard to see past certain emotions. It's naturally not going to sit well seeing other players bypassed and Gallas made captain, but it was a stroke of genus. Inspired. If it wasn't for his effort first half we might have been punished further, with the game out of sight before half time arrived.

To win, in this manner, and to have Arsenal collapse on their own patch and take a hard kick to their chest from our boot - it was all rather majestic. Adding this onto the back of our 2-1 Lane victory and seeing how a similar hoodoo with Chelsea was finally laid to rest in recent times - it's not something to be dismissed as a mere fluke. We've grown a set of balls. Hopefully this victory will kick-start a run of games where the focus is evident from the start rather than appearing mid way through. Cease the moment and all that type of stuff.

Post-match was equally telling. vdV once more displaying the mindset that we've never had in the past - suggesting we move onto the next game. I like that. Not for the first time he's saying quite publicly - keep your feet firmly on the ground. But that's not to say we - the fans - can't gloat. Just a little. It's deserved.

Shall we make a dvd? Perhaps Arsenal will release one covering the first half only.

We dared to do. It was a thing of beauty to watch them lot display the type of traits we have been cursed with in the past. Plenty of graft to be had yet. But you sense no open bus parade mentality any more from us. Just the desire to improve.

Kudos to Harry. Even if it takes us 45 minutes for us to find our way. Although there is something wonderful about the guts and spirit we now possess. We obviously have no need for a clipboard. Maybe we can lend it to Arsene Wenger. As long as it doesn't come back broken.

Spurs; as likely to win the title as Arsenal. For a backhanded compliment, that pretty much shows the demise of the dark gulf that has separated us for so long. Not off the back of this single away day comeback. But over the past 2/3 seasons. They are still a good side and we still have to finish above them to truly claim the tide has turned. But it's hardly beyond the realms of possibility any more.

Going forwards, this game, this NLD, is no longer one we should look ahead to and knowingly have to endure. We can now look forward…and enjoy.

Come. On. You. Spurs.

NLD journal #2

We have missing players and I'm genuinely gutted because in an ideal world I'd love to see us play the scum with a full strength side with them lining up equally complete rather than having several key players missing. A ding dong derby it would be.

A lopsided derby on paper doesn't mean it should be discounted because as cited many times before, no matter the players (legal caveat: as long as the players actually form a cohesive unit as opposed to eleven randoms because that definitely does not work) there is no excuse that would be rendered acceptable unless 100% + blood + heart on sleeves is not applied across the ninety minutes plus stoppages.

I'm pretty sure I remember Zokora laughing at the final whistle whilst chatting to opposition players after a 3-0 spanking. This is unacceptable.

Forgetting to unscrew daft heads Worzel Gummidge style and replace them with intelligent ones. This would be unacceptable.

Capitulating off the back off one mistake. Unacceptable.

Playing passive non-effectual possession football (for an example re-watch recent 2-0 loss at Old Trafford). This would be hugely disappointing.

Harry for me has to avoid quirky experimental nonsense with his selection. Simply:

- Pick the strongest side from the pool of available players
- Play them in their best positions
- Man up

Then all that is required is (moon on a stick time) focus, belief and passion.

Focus. Concentrate, be ruthless and relentless in application and with intent. Hassle them and fight for the ball. Heads should never go down.

Belief. Confidence - if I could bottle and sell it, I'd be living in the Caribbean…having bought it and the surrounding waters with the revenue made. The scum have an unnerving arrogance about them. Their manager might be blind to everything else but he can see that if you have eleven players who care for nothing other than winning you'll half way to achieving it. However, would much prefer to achieve this without being moaning cheating hypocritical jumped up tw*ts, mirrored by their bland boring one dimensional fans (ooh, in there with the digs, zing).

Passion. The players only need to match the fire in the belly of the Spurs fans. That's enough. More than enough. Or failing that, just tell them if we lose the game they'll all be fined four weeks worth of wages.

All that probably wouldn't fit on a clipboard but I'm sure Harry would sum it all up by saying 'have a go at 'em, enjoy it, kick the ball with your feet' or words of similar standing.

It's Thursday. I'm still not nervous or particularly excited. I remain calm before what I hope will be the perfect storm.

More. Later.

NLD journal #1

Afternoon.

Saturday. Small and insignificant matter of the North London Derby to be played out. The nerves, anticipation and expectation hardly kicks in until the morning of the game. I'm actually struggling to inspire myself for yet another 50,000 word epic war cry of an article calling for our players to show an abundance of desire, passion, determination, hunger, tenacity, organisation, cutting edge, end product, professionalism, concentration, never say die attitude and belief. Because as a set standard, all of this should be present from the off.

Yes, yes, injuries have a knock-on effect to formation and tactics (what tactics? Running around a lot and kicking the ball works just fine, right? No need to jot that down on a clipboard). And yes, yes, we always fail to get it right in the build up to this game and then fail despondently on the pitch. I can never understand this knee-jerk the players manage to achieve. At the swamp, we tend to defeat ourselves. Turning up in flip-flops rather than military certified boots, sinking deep in the cesspit.

In the 4-4, we packed a jet-pac to escape drowning.
Last time out, not even half of the team bothered to show up and the ones that did rolled out the red carpet on the marshlands allowing our inbreed hosts to skip joyfully on.

The Carling Cup game should be discounted altogether. Hey, that's what they do, right? Although it serves its purpose as testament to how times are genuinely changing - not in terms of us progressing ahead of them (because we haven't) but in terms of how far they have fallen. Granted, they are still in that degrading pack of three up top, but anyone at the Lane on the night would have laughed out loud at the sheer ecstasy their fans displayed, proclaiming just how important the CC is via their emotions. All of a sudden it matters. When we now suddenly refuse to take it seriously. Their fans, textbook in gloat, describing the game in WengerVision in how their kids beat our first team. Ooh the irony.

But enough with past misdemeanours and misadventures.

Blood and thunder is what this game was forged with in creation. To turn up and roll over for them, it's unacceptable even though it's hardly surprising when it happens. At the Lane last time out (I'm talking about the 2-1) we got it spot on tactically and were fantastic in terms of our will to win the game. We punished them whilst they played pretty football in and around the box without doing much and when they did push and pressured we had a formidable Gomes in goal to shut shop, other than allowing a consolation goal to creep in. We did not choke and when you place it alongside the Chelsea victory that followed, it was all pretty special. An awakening. So hoping we're not snoozing this weekend.

At the Emirates we do like to implode. One good omen this time round is the lack of a Robbie Keane pre-match declaration of victory. There is still time for someone to shag it all up, I'm sure. I hardly take much notice of the talk that goes on before because its just sound-bites and reflexed answers to questions that aid in quotable headlines, always exaggerated for additional effect. Like most games, but it's not a necessity for me to get caught up in a game that hardly requires the help of hype.

Re: the injuries and formational tinkering, I'd rather not linger on any ready made excuses. It's not like Arsenal are without problems. They're inconsistent, can make hard work of trying to walk the ball into the net and are quite obviously beatable at home. It's evenly matched. At least it will be if we turn up with chests pumped out. Nothing worse than clumsy implosion. Would rather lose the game playing out of our skins than lose it cheaply gift-wrapped.

JD might be back. Hudd is out for three months. Agent Gallas will no doubt score an own goal and rip off his shirt to reveal red and white colours then sit in the middle of the pitch crying his eyes out confused and alone. Ten home fans will sing to themselves in the far corner, reciting from their hymn sheets whilst the rest tuck into their half-time ribs. Jenas will score a brilliant brilliant individual goal. But we'll be 7-0 down at the time and when the final whistle is blown, we'll be demanding a dvd from our club shop for the plucky comeback that saw the game finish 7-6.

We need a win. Not just because its them lot but because Christmas is almost upon us and we have to remain anchored to 5th/4th spot so that after reinforcements in January we can truly give it proper go (I'm still holding onto us kick-starting our season any time now).

We need to win, we need to end this ridiculous run of away day blues against the former monopoly, we need to discover sustained swagger. And rather than worry about our defensive frailties, let's just make the most of their defensive frailties.

Momentum. About time we embraced some.

More journals to follow in the build up to the game.

Three gripes

Trying to rationalise yesterdays result.

We created (apparently) 18 chances including hitting the woodwork. Although the chances were never always clear cut and usually long range efforts, there's an undisputed argument that for the best part of the game we dominated in terms of possession and intent to go forward and score. Sunderland defended, we attacked. Okay so our version of attack is not quite the swashbuckling variant we have been accustomed too in recent seasons. Our movement up top is not the best. We tried to win the game and probably would have won it if Gallas and Kaboul did not brain fart in synchronicity to allow the equaliser from their first effort.

There are two gripes here. Three gripes. Probably more, but I'll go with the three for now.

Gripe #1 - Forwards, lack of. I know this is turning into a weekly excuse but there is a deficiency in our league games that is making the performance appear worse than it actually is. It's all about scoring goals, obviously, and if you don't you're not going to be winning many games. Even when we play just above average football we still endeavour to craft and create. But the issue remains because we don't have a robust tenacious forward in the side, it's akin to Zorro being asked to sword fight with a haddock in his hand. However, as witnessed at Bolton, we can score goals. It's the one dimensional application that places us under pressure and the longer the game goes on the more it plays on our minds.

Gripe #2 - Urgency, lack of. For around 70 minutes we asked all the questions. But it felt like we stood there speaking in a monotone drool slowly working through a power-point presentation made up of bland and boring graphs and stats. Where was the intentionally placed photo of a woman in a bikini in amongst the slides to brighten up the presentation? It's all a bit one gear, same speed with little variation. See end of gripe #1. Now perhaps I'm being a little harsh here because I know there are several of you (I've checked) that believe it was a 'frustrating result but not a frustrating performance'. I appreciate what you're trying to say here, but it is a frustrating performance because the players need to work just that little bit harder and we need to go beyond just 'asking questions' and just ram it down their throats a bit like Steve Jobs jumping around on stage during a key-note speech screaming 'IT'S MAGIC, IT'S MAGIC, IT'S MAGIC!'.

Okay, go on then, you've forced me into it. Here's another analogy. We're like an iphone 4. We look fantastic out the box but if we struggle to fulfil the most important function, then we're practically rendered useless. We need a new antenna (see gripe #1 again) because trying to hold ourselves up in an awkward manner is simply not working. Unless we're in Europe. Where reception is pretty good.

Last season we churned out results. Whether it was with or without key players. Our midfield in the past might have resulted in a migraine or two, so the irony of having a midfield now but nothing up top hurts. But even so, it's not like we're not creating chances. There simply has to be more urgency in our play. Get into the box, hassle, do or die even if its unwarranted in terms of it being a club like Sunderland (rather than a NLD). Works for United in the tenth minute of injury time. We need to make it work for us. Because with that attitude, if we did have a working forward, we'd be laughing proudly.

Gripe #3 - The basics. This is something that leaves me scratching my head. And it might be something that isn't looked at in terms of major reconstruction internally but there's enough to make me hope Harry does takes a look. It's the simple stuff. Like set pieces. The way we defend them is obviously something we all know is an issue. But I'll concentrate on the way we attack them, or should I say not attack them. Countless corners - no end product. Not suggesting we score from everyone but Christ, come on Spurs, make at least one of them count. We still don't appear to make the most of direct/in-direct free-kicks either. And in terms of desire the players have to understand that just going through the motions even if those motions are decent (in terms of passages of play) it's not always going to be enough to defeat the opposing side. Players have to adapt in game and add some ooh into the oomph. If Bale is being doubled up and there's no Lennon on the other side, swap it around for ten minutes. Force Sunderland into changing their shape. Reshuffle damn it.

Felt yesterday evening was a routine display where we just did the same thing over and over again. Enough to win it, excluding the mistake that meant we didn't. When we did score our goal it was from the first decent cross from Bale and vdV once more alert to the nod down from Crouch. There is more to us than this. Even with missing players and that need for a new forward. We are not this one dimensional. And let's be frank here, a man holding a fish might not be as cutting as a man holding a sword, but you can still smack someone in the face with it. 

How to lose points and ailenate fourth spot

Bolton 4 Spurs 2

My initial gut reaction to Saturdays could not be arsed performance in the majesty of the cathedral of football (the Reebok Stadium) was simply this: Harry Redknapp…why?

I appreciate that we shall never defeat the conspiracy (oh look another early Saturday kick-off straight after a Champions League game) but that was no excuse to just shrug at the prospect of perhaps claiming something tangible up at Bolton, were historically we get as much action as Cliff Richard. So no shocker, cometh the final whistle. No celebrations either, just footballing celibacy. Our players displaying the type of effort you'd expect from a walk on a beach mid summer holiday.

Should my knees begin to jerk ever so slightly? Or should I continue to whistle a gleeful tune and dance nervously holding up a sign that reads 'The End is not Nigh, So Stop Fretting'. Am I  ignoring the evidence of domestic degradation of consistent form and backbone? Do I rely too much on the varied weaknesses that are displayed by opposing (rival) sides with each passing week as a reason to remain optimistic? Do we - as a supporting collective - add more weight to our results than when we look across at other teams where perhaps we rationalise and exaggerate and gloss over the importance of their results in comparison? Is our squad depth not at depthy as it would suggest? Regardless of the dizzying questions, there are only two that matter at this still early juncture of the season.

What's broken and how do we fix it?

Or perhaps it's better worded as; how have we broken it and why isn't it getting fixed?

Perhaps things are not quite broken, they're just not in full working order.

We are erratic. The side is hardly ever settled in terms of juggling between league and Europe. Injuries confirm that as sublime as our first team can be, when we lose certain key players we lack cohesiveness and this has a knock-on effect with other commonly required footballing essentials (intensity, desire, focus etc). But even with a storming first team (on paper) we've disappointed in the league still. 451 works in Europe. Doesn't quite sex up at home.

Parts of the team - when the team is not at full strength (or as full strength as selection can allow) are at  times found out and thus has a detrimental effect on the rest of the side. Our defence guilty as charged. Against Bolton (who were not that good) we gifted them goals (regardless of the first being offside) because we managed to be even worse than them.

I said my initial gut reaction was to blame the gaffer, and I still do, but the players have quite a bit to answer for in terms of ye olde mental strength. But then it all goes back to the erratic selection which births lack of rhythm and style from one game to the next. We play our best football and best players in Europe. It's time we shared the wealth with the mundane task of finishing fourth. Before that ship sails and we're left drowning in shark infested waters. Or something equally grim.

So what went wrong at the Reebok? Easy peasy:

- 451 when there is no van der Vaart to accommodate. So why bother with 451?
- Crouch up top on his own. Why didn't Pav start? We are struggling with goals from our strikers in the league, so you do the math - two is better than one. There is no dynamic movement when pushing forwards and although Crouch and Pav is less Batman and Robin and more Rodney and Del Boy, it's the better and more obvious option to go with the two of them. Pav - for the record - has notched seven goals in all comps this season. That's from six starts and nine substitutions. His league record overall is rubbish (53 apps, 13 goals). So can we just tell him it's a cup game (21 apps, 18 goals) every time we play?'
- No flow and support structure in key areas (i.e. Hutton and Niko hardly a passable execution of 'how to support a team-mate')
- Sandro and Wilson in the starting line-up? Really? One newbie finding his feet and one oldie who has managed to lose his.
- Huddlestone on the bench. Stamps his authority on the game when he eventually comes on. Fails to wrap his boots around a decent pass.
- Kranjcar given a start which he does nothing with. Bentley on the other hand displays 'glimpses' of decency which is a little bit like saying, 'Look ma, he's star-jumping AND winking at the same time'.
- Wait to go three down before showing urgency.
- Complete lack of character, which is either the last dying remnants of the culture of comfort that almost destroyed this club or something isn't quite working in terms of prioritising the importance of climbing the table.
- Play badly to make opponents look good and yet almost  get back into it late on. Botheredness, the Spurs way.
- Keep dropping/losing points when it's even more obvious that this season is going to be less of a challenge to finish 4th than last season IF…IF IF IF…we attain the same standard of football we played at last season.
- No insight or astute pre-game analysis or tactical master planning of the opposing side. It's all very 'I'll select eleven players and hope they gel for ninety minutes'.
- Lack of in-game insight/astuteness and tactical re-shaping of the opposing side. It's okay to be reactive. That's 'reactive' to the game and opposition BEFORE we go three down.

Not frigging rocket science is it? And yet the same mistake(s) are made every few weeks.

We are up for the European adventure, and not so up for concentrating on league form. There might be a subconscious shared thought in the club that has everyone thinking we might not get a chance in the CL again for another two or three years so let's enjoy it and let's make our mark. Daniel Levy appreciates this as he's well aware that long term planning is vital and he won't go loopy for the sake of the short term. But considering how obvious our problems are, speculating in early 2011 would make the double challenge of home and away far more achievable than it stands at the minute.

The short term win can make the long term far more comfortable and we can stop looking around and concerning ourselves with the form of others and leave them to concern themselves with our form.

So panic? Don't bother. Not yet. Honestly, we still have some sand left in the hour glass.

We are not playing well but we are in there in terms of points and position. Sure, we are closer to the bottom than the top and the next three games are vital because if we win our home games (Sunderland/Rovers) and get something off the scum then we'll have gone from weeds to blossoming Lily's. If we don't then panic. PANIC PANIC PAAAAAANIC.

There is a point in the season where we (I) can't keep saying - we are still within touching distance. We have to move on and get in amongst the top five and pull away with them and then deal with the fight it will take to remain there and aim for 4th rather than 5th. I think we are at that point now. If we miss it, then we're going to get dragged down further with loss of focus and belief and distraction in the shape of the CL. And the point becomes one of no return.

I don't particularly want to share CL football with the likes of City or Liverpool (yes, Liverpool because they're back baby, they're back!!! Did you not see the game on Sunday?). We might find we don't have a choice and that every other season we challenge and reclaim entry to the elite competition because of the openness of the Prem. On the other hand,  we lose out this season and the Prem goes all monopoly again - and it's back to mediocrity as our players get plucked. The latter is less likely, but I'd rather not entertain that risk.

I lost count of the amount of times we got written off during the 2010 journey. I've said it many times this term - we might appear to be going sideways but we are not far off at all from getting this fixed. Just a couple of variables to be added to the formula. Just need to stand tall and proud before the money shot. Our CL hangover record is actually better than Arsenals. Not that it makes it acceptable to lose to Bolton and it's frustrating that we never get anything there - but with two home games and then the scum away (before CL and Liverpool) - this is when we discover if this fantastical learning curve - for the manager as well as players - has sunk in and we are better for it.

Get to Jan even with the same type of difference we have at the moment between us and say 3rd spot - and then it's over to the chairman and the transfer window to consolidate the work and progress achieved last season and eradicate this blip we are experiencing in the Prem. I don't need to tell you what we need. If we get what we need then we'll gonna get a whole heap of what we want.

I'll end with some positives from the game.

Ridiculously great technique and finish for the goal from Roman. Superb effort from Hutton also. That's it.

Also, can I point out that Gareth Bale didn't make his debut at the San Siro. And this fallacy of him being non-existent in the league is exactly that. Although my point would be more poignant if made on another day, rather than after a quiet performance and defeat.

Conclusion?

Last time I'm going to say this now. We are not playing well, we dissect every loss because of the standards we have set ourselves and we are showing frailties that are probably not half as bad as some other clubs have in comparison but probably more susceptible to repair. We've got it in us. It's time to prove it.

That's it.