I got Mila Kunis, but she's wearing a paper bag on her head

Chelsea 0 Spurs 0

From the match preview:

On our current form:

It's like a really crappy ground-hog day where you get stuck in the lift alone for hours on end with no means of escape rather than being stuck in the lift for hours on end with a flirty Mila Kunis.

What we seek:

The one repeated necessity that I've cited on a number of occasions during this spell of misery is that we need to somehow rediscover our fluency, our mojo. Be it from individualistic magic or a collective tenacity to dig out the result. Or alternatively, luck. Just a lucky break. Anything. It's not happened in the two games where we expected it to happen.

Sort of on the right track? Not exactly flirty seductive Mila Kunis. More Mila Kunis with a paper bag over her head. She's there, you know she's there you can see her and she can still do the type of things Mila can do but, well, the paper bag is getting in the way, masking her beauty. There needs to be more bite. Imagine seeing her bite her lips. Bite Mila, bite! If anything just bite your way through the paper bag. In conclusion, the paper bag needs to go.

We haven't quite recaptured our mojo but there was fluency, structure and some restored pride which are all welcomed returning ingredients that have ever so subtlety spiced up Spurs again. I'm pretty sure I also caught a glimpse of ye olde leadership.

A first half of containment and patience, although from a personal standpoint it felt a little risky even if Chelsea had no clear cut chances. There was still an element of uncertainty at the back for us. Going forward, we played to the smart counter but with no hefty impact. Until that is we were all  left staggered on the brink of half time wondering how we failed to score and go in at the break a goal up.

A full pelt uber-confident Spurs side would have pulled this Chelsea side apart but then that particular Spurs side is MIA. The current one dug deep and in the second half we added that extra bit of zest and urgency to our play. We had more possession and crafted more chances on goal. We even had a couple of half decent set-pieces. Towards the end of the game we not only looked more likely to score, we looked certain. That lucky break still deserting us for the moment meant it finished goalless.

I'm happy. I'm content with it. First half I was concerned about the ominous nature of the game, heavily congested midfield with not much down either flank. It was ugly, stuttery summed up with Redknapp barking orders to Sandro to sit rather than chase. Our set-up there to frustrate and stop Chelsea from functioning, so sure  the game was unspectacular for the most part but who cares about Sky Sports and the neutral viewer? Credit to Harry because in the second half the tempo was far better and also aided by the way the game slowly started to open up, which was an expected eventually after such a non-eventful start.

The manner in which our players grew with confidence was more than evident in the way we kept pushing forward. Adebayor worked hard, holding up the ball, doing everything a team player does and proving that he is of the ilk of forward that works in this system and works in a team that includes so many attack-minded players. Shame he scuffs his shots more often than not. When he rounded Cech, that should have been the 1-0. Second time I celebrated prematurely in the game (the first being when van der Vaart struck it with his opposite good peg in the first half). Story of our day along with the header from Bale striking the woodwork and the Gallas header from a decent set-piece (I didn't make that last bit up - a decent set-piece). Bale even had the audacity to get a dead ball kick on target, forcing a save.

Talking of Bale, this kid has not turned into a massive egotistical nutjob that thinks he's 'made it' and swans around disinterested and not bothering to do anything other than take on the world on his own. Thanks to our lack of depth on the flanks we can hardly rest him or attempt to rejuvenate which means he continues to play and perform on a half empty (not half full) tank. Probably not 100% physically either. When confident, you tend to be far more instinctive. He appears to not only spend too much time over-thinking but he's also making the mistake of over-compensating by doing too much when the simple ball is sometimes the best option. Get behind him, support him because he's not going to get dropped any time soon.

Having said all that, even a 60% Bale can be influential, and he was. Along with Modric who got better and more effective as the game got on. Gallas also a highlight (although one or two moments reminded me of the requirement to bolster the centre-pairing options for next season).

One step at a time and this is as good as any foundation to build on. Even if 0-0 doesn't look it and even though we shouldn't quite celebrate our full return to form just yet (remember, paper bag needs removing). Chelsea lucky on the day relying more on half-arsed penalty claims than anything else although Brad was beaten for the Mata free-kick (was that us getting lucky?).

There's life left in us for sure. But the games are now fast running out. We'd have taken fourth place at the start of the season. That is looking good what with further complacency unlikely after our three successive defeats/blip. No more margin for error. Been there done that, we now have to make sure we start winning at home (win all home games) and work as hard as we did today away. Third should still remain the target.

We're beginning to wake up from our slumber just in time for the up and coming frolics and twisty banter that will no doubt consume us up until May.

The fizzy pop has gone flat

Spurs 1 Stoke 1: One point from twelve

I think we can start to panic. Not the screaming down the road pulling out your hair foaming incoherently panic. Just the quieter biting of the nails version. Perhaps some of you prefer the former rather than the somewhat hopeful latter. Plenty around me in block 34 opted for a third choice, which involved mostly of screaming obscenities at our best players informing them they are in fact nothing more than excrement. Oh how the fickle love to dance in the moonlight, howling with sadness. Excrement? I’d argue that’s a tad (no, I’m not going to do the obvious pun) unfair although it’s the perfect description to label our inherently poor set pieces which once more personified a night of frustration with perfect grimness.

I’m not sure where to start so I’ll just start moaning and whatever I type will have to do, so please don’t expect anything linear or in a traditional matchy reporty chronological order delivered with flair. I'm fragile at the moment.

Might as well start with the set pieces as they are fresh in mind. Expect the most obvious conclusion and you will witness it over and over and over again.

Ball fails to beat the first man.
Ball pings past everyone.
Short corner is not played because that would involve creativity.
No intelligence with free kicks, other than to have a go, might hit the target but probably won't.
Concede a goal from a free kick because that’s the expected result from a dead ball against a side that score a fair few from there.

Just after conceding I noted one or two players holding out their hands in a philosophical manner, pondering what had happened. Half expected them to reveal t-shirts proclaiming ‘Why always us?’. There is a fundamental brain fart that continues to linger in and around the heads of the players we posses regardless of how technically gifted they are. No one is capable of resolving this perplexing nightmare we never seem to wake up from. I'm still talking about the set-pieces here but also, the lack of want, the lack of stepping up and finding that relentless tempo from earlier in the season. When we dug deep on occasions, made our own luck, forced things to happen.

The Stoke goal, it did came against the run of play. And yet to be fair to them, at least they got something on target and by virtue of doing so scored and therefore deserved it. First half Luka had a couple of efforts. Bale's loop not dipping under the crossbar. There were one or two other sort of half promising moments either in the box or in the build up when attacking towards the box, but let’s be honest here. It was all ominous, that mocking apologetic football akin to knocking on a door you just need to get through hoping someone will answer when it would be far more apt to kick it down.

Sure, we had Bale on the left and Modric in the middle and one up front. I would, under normal circumstances, talk about how we are a side that is reliant on having our best players in their best positions and thus struggle if there is even one player missing. But this is a weak excuse. It’s still true in many ways as illustrated when the manager has tinkered to resolve problems with width. But in this instance it transcends selection. Adebayor has hardly been setting the world on fire recently and although his hold up play remains important this should not hold us back. And yet it did. If Adebayor isn’t setting the world on fire, Saha is attempting to do so by using a wet match.

Oh Saha, when you have the ball at feet, look up, look up. Pass it to a team mate. Alas no, the ball was persistently played to nobody or into space where an opposition player could thank and collect. There was one moment where he gave this look, with a swing of an arm, which was reminiscent of someone that couldn’t even be bothered to portray genuine care. Just wanted to look like he did. Oh golly gosh, the ball has been wasted. Darn it.

Is that harsh? Probably, but there was not enough about him. Defoe (on for Niko) gave us some direction when he was subbed on but it was hardly a tactical master-stroke. Gio came on for Saha. If that doesn’t tell you how desperate we are for something, anything to happen...

That's not to say simply having Saha up front ruined any chance of winning the game. The problem remains a collective one. No edge to our play at all. No fluency (thanks Harry for the confirmation).

King limped off. The logic here was probably, ‘Let’s play him in the must win home game because we’ll probably not win away to Chelsea’. Oops.

Scott Parker is now looking like the player I thought he was before we signed him. He’s completely out of form. Was always going to happen, him burning out like this. Hindsight will point out we should have roated more.

Much like the Everton game, we statistically battered them. In physical form the story was altogether a different one. A tale of woes and woefulness. We didn’t really carve out that many opportunities. We didn’t test their keeper enough. The football was flaccid, limp and lethargic. Now I know that a good solid side that has basked in consistency for the most part of the season and has also crowed loudly in acceptance to the plaudits given for the football played doesn’t turn rubbish over a game or four. But we might as well be because the results we’re producing are not inspiring or aspiring.

‘It’s all about the performance’, some would say, well yes okay, I get that. But the result matters more when you’re in a slump. Sure it’s not the good olde Spurs slump of old. We have not completely unequivocally surrendered. The effort is there, the execution isn’t. But we’re in danger of allowing this loss of confidence to destroy all that has been built. There’s a game, a moment that is meant to galvanise our team and allow us to once more attain momentum. But it’s not forthcoming. It’s all just a little too laborious in effort. There is no hunger, no ruthless 'win at any cost' desire. That mojo is not lost behind the sofa. It's fallen through the floorboards into the flat downstairs. And that door, we're still just knocking on it instead of knocking it the **** down.

I don’t know if it’s the England job. The court case. Redknapp or the lack of leadership on the pitch. What I do know is that nothing we’re doing at this moment in time is deserving of us retaining 3^rd spot. Which is why we’ve lost it. If we want to reclaim it we’ll have stop feeling sorry for ourselves and grow that pair that appear to have gone from grapefruits to grapes to pomegranate seeds. Post-Chelsea, the fixture list is one we should seek to lap up. Should.

Around the 90^th minute mark I bid my farewells to the two staunch Spurs fans to my right (one of which made the quote of the night stating how the best ever Spurs side of recent years was still miles behind the worst Man Utd side of recent years...ooh snap) telling them I needed to visit the bog and that I would watch the final minutes of injury time on the tv screens below before departing. I’ve done this once before and we scored (Keane, 4-4 v Chelsea) so off I went. I found a cubicle with the least amount of puddle to swim through and watched my fluid elegant flow hit the basin. Best move I had witnessed all night. I then walked out of the bogs looked up at the screen and within seconds saw Bale cross for Rafa for the 1-1. How nice of us to finally make a breakthrough.

I shrugged and left for the Seven Sisters.

I shrugged because had we done that 10 minutes earlier we might have found the belief for a second and thus securing that galvanised ‘performance’ to aid with reconstructing our depleted confidence.

Instead, we now go to Chelsea off the back of 3 defeats and 1 draw. At least we can recycle ‘mind the gap’ for their attention although best use up your quota of gags before the weekend before the five point buffer gets cut down. Oh come on, we never win there, do we? Although if there was a game that could galvanise our season this would...ah, never mind. Let's just wait and see.

Oh the joys of football. It’s never easy. It’s always cruel. It always makes us feel alive. Because we are. Alive. There's no shallow grave dug yet. I can see the shovel but no digging. And yet in amongst all this depressive rhetoric I still fancy us. Is that delusion? I’ve looked in the mirror and I’m not foaming so I’m pretty sure there must be some logic in my belief. We took a point in a game where we never looked like taking one. If that is our fight back its hardly one of epicness. But it's a start. It's a point. It's not a defeat.

There is now no disputing what needs to be done to get the job done. Either stand up and be counted or sit back down, put your feet up and whistle the day away whilst you throw it all away.

We are still super Tottenham, just without the super bit. Just plain old Tottenham. Do what it takes. Sellotape the flipping super onto the Tottenham if you need to. Just get the job done.

x

It's time the cockerel sharpened its spur

Everton 1 Tottenham 0

If the Woolwich game was a choke and the Utd game a clinical mugging, Saturday evenings defeat at Goodison Park was...a disappointment. Three successive defeats, a taste we've not acquired since the hedonistic days of Juande Ramos. I'm not about to knee-jerk. Not yet. Even if the three defeats are the result of our form degrading since the new year. That gap of points we had? That's proved to be a safety net. A buffer. Once its gone there is no margin for error. Fall and it won't be pretty. Unless we end up falling on top of others who aspire to get ahead of us.

The science is simple. Stoke in our next league match where we truly find out whether our balls are the size of grape-fruits or nothing more than shrivelled grapes. If the slide persists it will fuel the belief in others whilst distinguishing our own. An exceptional season turns to disaster. From humble beginnings ("we'll do well to battle hard for 4th") to giddy heights ("we're contending at the top") this was all our own doing. Much like the unravelling is our undoing at this present moment.

For the sake of positivity (I'll hazard a guess this is one commodity that is currently lost in in the depths of our thoughts consumed by its arch nemesis) we are still masters of our own destiny. We have not been punching above our weight. Other rival clubs have not suddenly reclaimed past form. We haven't had a blip all season long whereas others have had several. We've had all of ours in three successive league games. That gap was an illusion of circumstance.

The panic button is present in the same room that we stand in but our finger is not hovering above it even though we are staring directly at it. It's crossed our mind to run across to it and thump it with anger. That's the easy way out. We all know, Tottenham never takes the easy way. It's always, unequivocally the hard way. We're apologetic at the moment. From manager to players, there is no mental strength and assured focus. No responsibility. There has to be more than hollow excuses about it being one of those days. Sure, one of those days one week but three times in succession?

It wouldn't be entertaining if we navigated our most crucial period of the season with skilled professionalism, digging deep to retain some reminisce of momentum. Using the same pragmatism that our rivals are proclaiming, from inconsistent under achievement to tenacious spirit, there is nothing to suggest we can't turn this around. The same way its been turned around by those that have spent the season chasing and falling. We've spent the majority of the season looking forwards not back. As perplexing as it all is at the moment, this is not a self-fulfilling prophecy tinged with expected failure. It's not a throwback to that side we once knew, lacking spine, bones brittle like crisps. What we are is dangerously close to reflecting that persona. The difference is we all know what we are capable of when we fire on all cylinders. That's our real persona. Even if its not one that is seasoned in close season pressure chasing a top spot (whereas both Woolwich and Chelsea have experience in doing so). It's still one capable of achievement.

Confidence can be drained out of you but it can also be won back. Just takes one game. How can I as a supporter give up on that one game when that game has yet to be played? That game has to be the next one (Stoke) by virtue of losing this one (Everton) and the one before. After that, if we're in the same predicament, I'll start walking slowly towards the panic button expecting the inevitable self-destruct.

We are out of form. Individually and as a collective. Tactically a mess. The irony? The game looked like a 0-0. Could have so easily been a 0-0. Could have also seen us win it (based on 2nd half). Moyes men, unattractive and defensive. Spurs misfiring all of the pitch. A mistake leading to the goal that would give the points to the hosts. Could have been, wasn't, was 1-0 to them.

How? Why?

"How to lose games and influence people to start calling you limited now that we're not winning" by Harry Redknapp.

• Don't play the best formation based on the players available
• Don't start players in their strongest positions, including your two best players
• Stick Bale on the right (lose the chance for genuine width and dynamism)
• Stick Modric on the left (lose creativity and guile)
• Start a striker based on recent form, but add him to the line-up to accompany your other striker instead of dropping him to have just the one up front. Probably because deep down you know that having Defoe up front on his own will be detrimental to that particular system, but you start him anyway
• 442 doesn't work so persist with it
• This in turn will leave the midfield outfought due to being pressed/out numbered by the oppositions midfield with lack of drop-back by forwards to support

It was a bit like that island out of Lost. Strange happenings all the time with no explanation and you never quite work out what's going on. If you took a step back from it all, as bad (in comparison to good) as we appear to be playing - it's still not catastrophic. No big explosion. We just need a slice of time travel and a chorus of a grand old team to put this right.

The goal was a gift (more so than a mistake), Kaboul completely falling asleep after leaving his position to then lapse again and allowing Osman to square the ball to Jelavic to score. We continued to struggle with retaining the ball, our passing lacked fluidity. No inspiration, no perspiration. No mojo. No luck.

Why does the simple ethos of playing your best players in their best positions and not accommodating anyone who doesn't fit in not cry out for the attention it deserves?

Modric was heavily marked and unproductive out on the left. A position that is not unlike imprisonment. Bale equally ineffectual until he shifted across to the left for the last 10 minutes. Our set pieces personified our performance. Erratic and without intelligence and direction.

If we were not so limp up front we could have still carved something out of the game. In the second half, we almost did.

No immediate changes to the side but the tempo was more driven and there was urgency. Nothing special and most definitely deflated in comparison to our more bullish performances from our sparklingly back catalogue before the implosion (although arguably we have actually degraded away from home over a longer period of time if you wish to recategorise certain below par wins away from home from 'dogged' to fit into our current demoralised state of mind).

Saha replaced Adebayor. For all of the time Defoe spent in offside positions he was far more alert and more likely to craft a chance than his team mate although he remains completely selfish and suffers from lack of spacial awareness when it comes to understanding his team mates and their movement. Our set pieces continued to degrade further (so many levels of bad are conquered here). Chances presented themselves but were dismissed with disguised disdain like a heavily knitted cardigan given to you by granny at Christmas.

The flanks remained broken. If Karl Marx played for us, he'd be stuck out on the right. The gaffer would probably tell us nobody would expect him to be there, he'd say its "a bit left field" to do that and that's why it might work but it's not really left field, is it? It's right. But not actually the right thing to do because he's left.

Confused?

Welcome to Tottenham Hotspur tactics 101.

Was Bale on the right because of what Everton had achieved against us and more specifically him,  nullifying Gareth forcing him onto the right to escape their attention in a prior encounter? Why not simply play to our strengths than concern ourselves with what Everton might be able to do? Square pegs, round holes. 

I've mentioned that the second half was far superior to the first half showing. It was. Everton continued to be reactive to us pushing forward, the home crowd no doubt saving their voice for the derby rather than waste it on the cockneys. Bale dived (because it's what he has to do from time to time - I'll blog about this separately but some of you really have to start supporting the player and stop constantly hating on him). Saha hit the woodwork. Another (genuine) highlight of the second half was the introduction of van der Vaart. Even though at times I couldn't quite work out where he was meant to be playing. Still, next time you (some of you, not all of you) complain about the luxury of the Dutchman, try changing your straitjacket to something a little tighter. Extra padding to your cell might also help you out with the banging of head on wall. In our blatant hour of need, we need our talisman out there because someone has to take the responsibility to drag us up from the floor.

Did we 'batter them' in that half? Yeah, sort of. Like I said earlier, we could have carved something out. Alas, there was no structure or style to our endeavours. Throwing everything at the Everton goal with no patient build up or plan. Don't pretend you didn't see it playing out like this when the line-up was announced. We appear to be accepting defeat rather than utterly despising it. It's all very much fragmented.

So what now?

Another cup game punctures the fixture list before we face Stoke. Two successive home games before we go to Chelsea which will allow players and supporters to unite as one again. Two games which need to be used as a catalyst. As a club we need to embrace the challenge ahead without the anxiety we've displayed in recent games and to do that we have to be at full strength. One hymn sheet, countless choruses of Glory.

If we believed the hype when we played and won games consistently then we can so easily believe the hype that tells us we've bottled it. That's the danger. This is where we need to grow a pair. At some point soon there wont be enough games left on the calender for us to rally the troops and spit out battle cries with myself thumping the keyboard manically demanding swashbuckle. Winning ways need to be reclaimed. I'd say any which way possible but I know this side is capable of winning with swagger. Whilst said swagger is MIA, any which way possible is a good place to start.

As bad as things seem at the moment, it will only take a couple of results to change everyone's perspective again. Next two are pivotal. The ones that follow might be a blessing.

So grape-fruit or grape? Get a grip of it Spurs. That includes you Harry. That includes every single one of you wearing the shirt. Every single one of you singing for the shirt. Do or die or dare. Shouldn't that be inspiration enough?

Stand up, be brave.

It's time the cockerel sharpened its spur.

Tottenham need to be united

Just because we've had a consistent season where you can count the amount of disappointing performances on one had and spent the bulk of it in the top four (third) doesn't mean we can all take it for granted that the games left will follow a similar pattern. An odd blip here or there but nothing to derail us. I shared some stats earlier in the week, more theoretical than stone cold mathematical that suggested we've got little too worry about. I ignored the variables. Have we got a little too carried away? Add the variables into the equation and you might end up pulling out your hair and making paper aeroplanes out of the note paper as you give up scribbling the countless connotations of what might play out based on what might happen elsewhere.

I still refuse to look elsewhere and worry about it. We all know everyone vying to be in the top four will hit purple patches and muscle their way closer inwards. We can only attempt to guide our own destiny and possibly dent one or two others in the process between now and the end of the season. Even if it means mudding it with dirty hands. It's time to get back to basics, get gritty and re-ignite the fire in our belly. I don't just want to hear a battle cry, I want it to bleed out my ears.

One good result doesn't define a season. So one bad one should not do the same. Shame on us if it's a catalyst for a free-fall. As much as Ferguson has a point about Harry and the effect of the England job unsettling the team, that's most part textbook kidology in the build up to Sunday's game. The players owe it to us and themselves to display the desire and hunger that got us into the position in the first place. That position I'm talking about is the position of challenging at the top of the Prem and forging that winners mentality. 3rd place is a consequence of the work ethic we've stuck in.

Okay, so we still have issues with taking points against the very top sides. Historically, we've struggled. But this has been a season where everyone has landed a knock-out punch on each other. A season of contenders, with no apparent champion elect (bored of The Project).

Having to face Manchester United in our next game is the fixture lists way of laughing at us. But it will ease up soon enough and it's important we stay true to what we've built up this season in terms of momentum. Not get side tracked by outside interference and not allow the glamour of the FA Cup to blind us as we stand perilously unbalanced on this ladder that's being shaken from below. I said it will ease up. Shame on you if you believe that to be the case. Every single game should be seen as do or die. Spirit of 2010. Not the gut wrenching collapse of 2006.

Wayne Rooney has recovered from a throat infection. I'm more focused on making sure we're the ones that don't choke. Hopefully someone has redrafted the over-used script that gets acted out time and time again when we clash with United. Could do with a new twist in amongst the expected drama with confidence and bullish determination in the leading roles. Preferable Lilywhite than Mancunian red.

Get on it Spurs. Get at them. Play with width and play with style. No unnecessary tweaking or undisciplined selections. Team unity over individualism. This won't be easy. We all know Ferguson's men can always dig out a result when they need one. The pressure is on them, equally compared to the pressure on us. They are chasing their noisy neighbours who appear to be quietly edging towards the title. We have to shift on from the anomaly of last weekend and rebuild the foundation for further momentum.

Play out of your skin Spurs. Sing your hearts out in the stands. Tottenham need to be united.

Tottenham need to beat United.