Anyone got a hymn sheet?

Another day another interview and another soundbite farting it's way out of White Hart Lane. This time Defoe complaining about sitting on the sidelines and how qualifying for the Europa League isn't a good idea because it would be too much of a distraction. Not sure how because to be fair to the lad he'd probably only get to play in the Europa League rather than the all important Premier League what with our imminent world-class forward signing (by imminent I mean 'for the love of God please').

Irony all over the place if he was to start on Sunday, a game where he might find himself in a position to score to take us to the hardly fancied Europa dream.

Defoe says no to Europe. van der Vaart says yes. Harry says no, yes, no, yes...depends on the weather.

We've lacked consistency on the pitch during the run-in which has cost us dearly. Wouldn't harm us to have some consistency off the pitch when people open their mouths. But I guess each to their own (agenda).

As for JD and his threat/plea. Had he not got injured, who knows? He did and he's struggled mainly because he hasn't always taken his chances and also because Harry hasn't always looked to use him. Possible argument that Harry has actually forgotten how to best use his favourite 'son', his mind on other selection and formation headaches. Don't think Defoe will ever improve on his current ability, but that's not to say that a decent pre-season and a run in the team wouldn't see him produce the goods again.

It's all very dependent on the ilk of forward we do end up signing and whether vdV will play just behind him or we opt for the more traditional partnership up front. The fact he's said what he's said (de ja vu) suggests as much as he references the buzz of playing for Spurs and the hunger he has...it's hardly the words of a committed player to the club. Just a player committed to himself, perhaps knowing deep down he just won't cut it any more. If he's weak in mind, then perhaps call his bluff.

4 wins. 99 years.

Spurs win at Anfield. Arsenal lose again. 10,000 travelling claret and blue fans watch West Ham United get relegated. Oh and what’s this? Jessica Alba naked in my bedroom, seductively requesting I join her for frivolous antics between the bed sheets. What a sensational weekend. Almost makes you want to daydream about the performance against City with an alternative ending. What if, what if. Such a fine line between loving/hating the gaffer these days. But at least we've got ourselves a pocket of pride after a painful run that's lacked it in abundance.

From a CL play-off to a Europa League variant at the home of the best tannoy system in the land (not working on Sunday, hence the lack of home support vocals). Post-match Harry has admitted scaring the team to victory, reminding them the passage into Europe via Fair Play would mean a very early start to pre-season. Shame a similar ploy wasn't used pro-actively during the past couple of months to inspire avoidance of the far from sexy Europa League. You live and learn.

Immaculate performances of beastly awesomeness from the likes of Sandro, Modric and Rose. And Ledley King. Seven months out and he basically owned the pitch. Such was the comfort of his display. Okay, perhaps he wasn’t 100% slick and styled but seven months people...seven months! He has not right, surely?

Of course he has the right. He's the King, he can do whatever he likes.

There’s no doubting the fact that if Ledley did not suffer from the degradation of his knee he would be one of the world’s best. He’s still one of the world’s best if you wish to take note of his performance by games played ratio.

He hardly plays. When he does, he oozes unparalleled ability. Little surprise then that he also brings the best out of Dawson (to the right of King in central defence). The man is a colossus. And a conundrum. We don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors and whether he’s finally been advised to consider retirement. King himself is looking forward with positivity, as ever. He never wants to give into his reoccuring plight. What his performance does illustrate is the importance of having some of his quality at the back throughout the season.

Stats tell us that we’ve conceded 66 goals in the 44 games that Ledley has not been present. That equates to an average of 1.5 goals conceded per game. Compared to the six conceded in the eight games he’s started, which is an average of 0.75 per game.

As much as we all bang on about needing a forward we equally need to do some hefty work to sign someone of similar ilk to King. Not an easy task. I’m thinking long term here (Gallas has another season with us at the very least and wont be ever present next term through-out all comps). Steven Caulker might be the answer. We’ll know more post-summer transfer window (that’s a hope rather than a prediction).

So, what of the game?

I was surprised Liverpool were so limp in terms of offensive pressure. Granted, they had chances. Wasted ones. Carroll doing his best to appease my disappointment we didn't sign anyone back in Jan. And any of the pre-match hullabaloo about not signing Suarez was washed away thanks to a rather inept performance by the player who spent most of the game reminding us of those other qualities. The ones Howard Webb preferred to ignore. I bet if that was Daws kicking Suarez, the Uruguayan would still be rolling around now with Daws reflecting on a red card. Suarez probably would have rolled all the way to Albert Docks. Regardless, Dawson had him comfortably set to ineffectual. All that was left for him and his mate Maxi was to periodically dive their way through the ninety minutes.

Webb’s inconsistency did however award us a rather soft penalty. Not sure, are we allowed to accept such generosity in the back garden of one of the original Sky Sports Top 4 clubs? Feels dirty. The penalty made it 2-0. The first goal was a wonderful effort (aided by deflection) by van der Vaart who kissed his badge in celebration. A sure sign he’s had a contract offer delivered via Old Trafford. Good solid performance from the Dutchman before going off injured.

Rose, again impressive in another left-back cover-role. Kid might have a future as BAE's understudy. Based on three games. No, no. I'm certain we're onto something here and we are not an over-excitable bunch of fans who will not turn on him when he eventually does make a mistake. Which he will. Human, after all.

We didn’t create too much else in clear cut chances (Crouch and Defoe up front). We didn’t over-power Liverpool. We simply contained them and played out the game in relative comfort. Clean sheet people, clean sheet.

Sandro (got a yellow when others in red shirts deserved them more but got away with it) proving our scouts can get it right. The perfect partner for Modric in the middle, who continues to make us tick (70 out of 74 passes completed, that’s 95% accuracy - destroy all carrier-pigeons leaving Manchester and heading towards N17).

For those taking notes, that’s also another hoodoo beaten by Redknapp (Old Trafford and Stamford Bridge the only two battle fields left to conquer). First win there for 18 years. First double over Liverpool since ’87. But then I’m sure you’ll counter it by reminding everyone that Liverpool are still in a state of flux (be it in a good state currently), requiring additional new blood to improve to even consider competing for a top four place. Our away form continues to impress. Our home form is where we’ve stuttered. I'd still be looking up at City and the rest rather than looking down at Liverpool and...nobody else.

Liverpool finishing below us might hinder them in the transfer window or it might not. Europa football not as appealing as that other competition. Guess it comes down to whether we are far more decisive in the transfer window than Comolli is who will no doubt spearhead the project at hand (the enticement of history on their side, see Joe Cole for example).

It's a fine line, regardless of what you might think of Harry and his mouth and the other issues of potential transfer targets (please no West Ham rejects please) – we’re still in good health. I’m right, am I not?

For all his contradictions and his relentless protection of his ego and the half-truths, his record still remains impressive. Just not as impressive as it could have been. And he knows it. And he's not doing a good job managing the fallout. Although it will no doubt be forgotten about with the summer almost upon us and Harry will want to prove the doubters wrong with yet another positive twist. Perhaps top four and a cup. Come on, it's hardly the moon on a stick.

Will be interesting to see if we start next season as the underdogs or he comes out and states clearly and without confusion: Top 4 is the target. Aim high Tottenham.

Talking of the summer, Harry according to Harry, has already started to scout (he was recently in France). I'm sure you'll all be inspired by this gem in reference to strikers: "It's very difficult finding better than what you've already got"

Oh crap, Jessica’s head is morphing into Harry’s ala Aphex Twin ‘Windowlicker’ video. I knew this was too good to be true.

One game left. 5^th spot, in our hands to lose. Much like 4th spot was. Onwards. To dare is to get three points at home in the final game of the season and continue the 'run' into the 2012 season.

COYS.

There is still hope

I reckon I've got it sussed out.

All we need to do is sacrifice fifteen virgins (one for each remaining point) in the centre-circle at White Hart Lane and then take five voodoo dolls representing each club we have left to play and hang'em upside with pins inserted.

Whilst the sacrifice takes place (for reasons relating to legality we can't actually sacrifice people so I've spoken to a friend who knows someone who knows someone who can put me in touch with a farmer and for a nominal fee covering insurance purposes we can borrow fifteen lambs although we have to return the meat post-ritual or we'll lose the deposit)...Okay, so whilst the sacrifice takes place on the pitch we need to then set fire to the voodoo dolls and pray to Mait' Carrefour, the Haitian god of magicians and lord of the crossroads, promising him the souls of the sacrificed virgins (he won't know the difference, the souls are unlikely to bleat after they transcend) in return for Champions League next season. We also need to bury Chirpy in a shallow grave. Nothing to do with the ritual at all. Just, you know, might as well kill two birds with one stone.

I reckon that just about covers it and it's as full-proof as anything can possibly be. Got it all planned out on my clipboard.

No need to waste time on how to line-up our forwards best. How to get them to play with passion and desire starting off with the fundamentals like moving around the pitch a bit and controlling the ball. How best to structure our midfield for assured balance. Where to slot in Lennon for maximum impact. How to retain the required level of tenacity in games against lower-placed clubs as displayed against the bigger sides. How to get the message across that even if the opposition hasn't lost for a fair while, we should be storming it at home in a flurry of fantastics rather than once more failing with frustration.

Also no point in dwelling on the harsh reality of irony whereby said failure is shared by all involved, including the players that might want to transfer their way out in the summer due to the club not being involved in a competition because the same players failed to take us back there. Or is it the managers fault? Or is it mine for thinking we'd get on fine and that we were not over-extending? Regardless, where's the killer instinct? That has to be question that hides behind another disappointment.

You want killer instinct? You want it? If you want it, you do it yourself. You get on the phone to a farmer and you order some baby sheep.

Cheer yourself up, buy a t-shirt then sell it as a collectors item to a Man Utd fan in the summer

Fourth spot. It's still on.

We simply need to win every single game remaining and City need to slip up the once in addition to playing us.

Believe.

We got written off every single game leading up to Eastlands last time out. Nothing is impossible until it's impossible and it's not impossible. Not yet. When it finally is I'll applaud the team for a quite stupendous season, one with regretful blips that have cost us in the long run. But that's for another me in another universe, one where we finish outside the top four filled with melancholical madness, whilst an emo Spooky sits in front of his webcam reading out poetry and despairing with endless dejection.

Screw that universe.

Now excuse me. Got me some shearing to do.

Just remember what I've done for you next time you tuck into your lamb chop and potatoes.

Yet another Spurs versus Arsenal El Clásico

Well that was rather special, wasn’t it?

Is there a more enthralling, pulsating fixture in the domestic calendar than the North London Derby? Dramatic twists and turns, excellent attacking football, quality finishing all glued together with blood and thunder desire. Once again we bounced back. Once again they lost their grip on the game. You could hardly look away, other than perhaps for a brief second to momentarily ease the beats of your brutalised heart. Mentality and physically exhausting, the dvd will surely include a parental warning on its sleeve.

Okay so whether you’re white or red you’ll agree a draw was hardly the best result in terms of accumulating the points to achieve the goal each club aspires to in the run-in. Arsenal are hardly out of the challenge for the title, mathematically speaking. And regardless of the stalemate, beating Manchester City away remains the end-game task we have ahead of us, as long as we don’t drop points to our determent in comparison to City and their remaining fixtures.

Could we have won it? Sure. Had perhaps Modric made it four with his foot rather than seeing the ball hit his shin and saved. Sandro's effort too had it been perhaps an inch to the right of Szczesny might have found its way in. The Arsenal keeper coming to their rescue again with saves from Crouch and van der Vaart in what was a far better second half of football for us than the first.

They could argue the same thing though. They could have won it too.

Hindsight would probably have seen me select Sandro from the start to stop Arsenal from over-running us in midfield as he would have been far more comfortable with breaking up play and generally being a nuisance and menace. To have had him playing the simple ball, recycling possession effectively and without fuss might have balanced things out in our favour and frustrated the opposition. But then it’s from a place of comfort after the event to perhaps look back and be critical of selection. And to play devil’s advocate, Sandro was guilty of one sleepy pass that might have proved costly. But hey, we’re all human.

I was more content with the line-up. van der Vaart, Pavlyuchenko and Crouch in the same team gave us a foil and a more dynamic dimension when pushing forwards rather than perhaps having the one striker ahead of the Dutchman. Perhaps working better on paper than in practice, with the Russian on the outside looking in for most of the game. Across the full ninety perhaps Pav didn’t have the impact you’d have wished for but he worked hard. Crouch hassled and vdV buzzed. Modric was anything but lightweight (but was pushed once or twice to the floor joining Bale down there) as he did his very best to take the stranglehold back off the impressive Fabregas in an attempt to control tempo in our favour.

It didn’t actually start to pull in our direction until after that stunning first forty-five.

The very definition of a ding-dong derby. 0-1 in five minutes, 1-1 after seven, 1-2 after twelve, 1-3 after forty and then 2-3 at the forty-four minute mark. And breath.

Not taking anything away from Arsenal who scored three goals that were deserving for their effort, but once more, there are post-mortems for each one that are labelled ‘should have done better’. Hand on heart, they caused us a multitude of problems but punches were thrown in-between the goal-scoring with both sides having telling efforts.

As for those post-mortems.

0-1

Henry-lite runs onto a brilliant pass from the annoyingly good Fabregas and passes the ball into the net. We lost the ball cheaply in midfield (Huddlestone) and were duly punished for it with a combination of mistakes that played out to aid Arsenal. Gallas rushing out initially leaving a gap that then saw Dawson play the offside and BAE caught playing Walcott onside. There’s a certain level of composure and concentration that is required at all times otherwise counters like this can leave you looking up to the heavens for a pray. Hardly the definition of defensive unity. Delightful celebration by Theo.

1-1

Two minutes later and its game on. Corluka with the ball into the path of van der Vaart who majestically found the back of the net at Szczeny’s near post, on his weaker foot too. The celebration cancelling out the earlier one. Arsenal perhaps if they wish to be harsh on their keeper can point to that near post and suggest a shot should not be sneaking in from there. Did I mention the celebration? I did? I'll mention it again. Sssh.

1-2

Should Dawson have stood up (get up, stand up...) rather than attempt to block a shot that might not have been released had he got tighter or am I distracting attention away from the quality of the shot from Nasri which took a slight deflection off Michael as it flew past Gomes? Good finish, but it felt like it should have been defended better. We just sat back and watched Nasir buzz about outside the box. Will not be too critical of Gomes here, I know some of you are. I guess philosophically, if a player has a crack from that sort of distance you have to give him his due if he finds the net.

1-3

At this point you’ll have probably given up. Had you perhaps been watching any other game other than the NLD. Gallas at fault I hate to say it. Far too casual. Chesting the ball down into the path of Walcott who dinked the ball wonderfully back into the path of Robin van Persie who had a couple of attempts to make it three. The first (a header) superbly saved, but alas, the second emphatically finished as the ball came back to van Persie. I guess some of you would have wanted Gomes to catch it with one hand, ala Jennings?

2-3

Just before the break we're back in it. There was a time in the past when we would concede a goal before half-time and find ourselves on the back-foot in the second forty-five, but this was not only a life-line but perhaps the most telling moment that probably invited doubt into the minds of our mentally fragile neighbours. With Bale off for treatment (thanks to two collisions with the winking Szczensy) Fabregas failed to clear convincingly and the ball was erotically struck by Huddlestone, hitting the ground and going through the jump of van der Vaart and past the keeper who hardly moved, apart from perhaps blinking.

There was still time for a penalty shout. Frantic stuff. Not given, could have been. We've seen less go for us and against us in the past. But then the footballing Gods didn’t want to spoil us too much, preferring to retain some drama for when the players returned to the pitch.

Half-time. And two changes. Bale (cluttered once too often) and Corluka off. Kaboul and Lennon on.

Physicality notched up a level, yellow cards dished out  to the visitors with some blood spilt (Wenger did predict that) and even some time for the introduction of Wilshere to be told to shut up by vdV, which will probably give him something to tweet about post-game. Nutmeg anyone?

If we survived during the first 45 we gradually took hold of the second, although it was still littered with remainders that for every couple of chances we crafted out, they could have done better with theirs. Offside goal disallowed that might not have been offside (did Gomes play to the whistle? I think he did and half gave up when he heard it). Walcott also making the wrong decision with a cross-shot shot that didn't hit the target or find one of his team-mates.

Far more confident possession and intent from us. Proactive rather than reactive, with Arsenal on the back-foot more often than not but still dangerous. Next goal ‘wins’ it then.

If Modric made us tick, and van der Vaart was outstanding leading us forwards there was BAE, as cool and calm as you like, he might as well have been on the beach in Brazil than at White Hart Lane in the midst of a NLD. Open invitation for Alan Hansen to review past comments. Absolutely on the money from the pimp master. Distribution was solid and classy and sexy and when others lost their cool around him he made sure he was ever reliable at key moments. The ball for Lennon deserving of a goal. Instead we got a penalty out of it. Still ended up with a goal. Szczesny committing himself with little option other than to take down Aaron. Cool as you like, van der Vaart from the spot for his brace. Hero.

3-3.

Wenger animated on the bench (did I see a moment of monty python at one point?). Harry believing we’d probably get another. Oh for the love of all things wonderful on God’s green earth, it could have been four. Modric failing to connect cleanly. Then followed some neat saves from Gomes (not to be left bored at the other end) and those Crouch and Sandro efforts teasing all that watched, but a winner wasn’t to be for either side.

Stalemate, but hardly stale. 3-3 at the final whistle. And to think there were one or two people at home tuned in to watch Real Madrid v Barcelona.

What does it mean for us? Not much, nothing has really changed. We still have plenty of games left to take back fourth spot but each one of them has to be played like it’s do or die. No complacency. No more mistakes. And perhaps some bravery from Harry in selection too. We have to consider that we might end up drawing at Chelsea and at Eastlands which means its the results in the other fixtures that will seal our fate. Forget about the points dropped, we have no other choice but to look forwards and to continue to believe we can make it.

We’ve come a long way. We’re no longer push-overs, we can take a punch and we can land a hay-maker of our own. But much like Arsenal we have gaps that need to be filled. We have the mental strength and the tenacity these days. Just need one or two additions and perhaps more of the shrewd from the gaffer.

One thing is for certain, we’re not the Tottenham of old, the team that rolled over like a cute puppy to be sat on by the bigger badder dog who hardly took notice if the little one. Guess the puppy grew up and took a massive bite out of its aggressor.

Arsenal must not be our benchmark (beating Man Utd remains the bane) but it’s a pretty nifty way of measuring our standard of competitiveness. The fact we've beaten them twice in the league recently and probably feel a little disappointed we didn't nick it last night places us pound-for-pound on the night, on equal pegging. Be it a few points off in the Prem to class it as a head-to-head.

We need to fill those gaps before they do.

We no longer fear. Other than dithering in the transfer window.

Tighten it up Tottenham. We're disappointed we didn't win. They're happy with the point. A sign of the times. Not to ruin the spectacle, but that's the crux of it. Even though I was happy with the line-up, it wasn't the perfect selection (hindsight) and finding ourselves three one down is hardly the best way to compete in a game we should have looked to win. But perhaps that's a touch too negative and harsh. Mistakes found us in that position, hardly errors of selection. Perhaps it is a benchmark after-all. When we find ourselves 3-1 up to the good against them, then it will truly be a sign that we've stepped it up once more.

Until then we need to improve our record against lower placed sides. We hardly ever lose at home in the league, and those dropped points remain the difference between sitting in 5^th and potentially being 3^rd or 2^nd as top tier clashes evidently can cancel each others hopes out.

Cracker of a game and another classic to add to the rest of them. London owns it again.

Game of your life Tottenham, game of your life

The inside of my head currently has more glittery explosions than any given November 5th. I didn't walk out of my home this morning as I began the first leg of my staggeringly labourious trek from the depths of Epping Forest to the badlands of Croydon (office relocation, long story). I floated. Feet not touching the ground, gliding in the air like a ghost, akin to a Spike Lee movie just without all the rage and anger. Raining and cold? I hardly cared. Knowing there were one or two N17 representatives in Madrid singing a song the night before and more to follow today was more than enough to warm me up.

It's surreal. Not in a giddy Beatlesque screeching and fainting kind of way. More so in terms of remembrance. Looking back to when we chased the dream we are now living with pomp. I'm placing aside all the discussions about the importance of progress and sustaining the current crop of Spurs players to secure a new generation of Lilywhite history rather than just a pocket of glory nights before we return to the uncertainty of the chase. Because just is more than enough when you're living that very specific moment. One that finds us visiting the Santiago Bernabeu. In it's purist form football is about moments. We've had so many of them this season, we've been enriched with the unforgettable. There's room for more. Not that I'm being greedy.

If it's our destiny to fizzle out of qualification for next seasons competition then at least we can look back at our maiden voyage into the continental elite with pride. Tottenham swashbuckling our style with refreshing zest and desire. I'm sure we wouldn't be such a massive surprise and shock if we made it back for 2012. But we've set out and proven we are more than capable to compete with the top sides in Europe. Which has irked many and had others scratching their heads in wonderment.

It's not about the taking part to feed the various guises of structure and standing. It has to be about the moments. I'll let reality consume me once more in the aftermath.

Sure, logic will tap us on the back and whisper solemnly that at some point we'll be up against a team who will shut shop effectively and punish every single mistake we make. I'd rather that exit happened in the semi-final, if it is to happen at all.

I had a dream last night. Watching the game on TV. We had two penalties. van der Vaart with the first. Crouch with the second. The home ground despondent.

Gotta dream, right?

I've followed La Liga for years, adore the Morbo in what is a wonderfully fragmented country. And like most have followed Madrid and their soap opera. They're like a Spanish Tottenham. I don't mean in silverware and domestic and European success. I'm referring to some basic fundamentally building blocks. The necessity to play attacking free-flowing football and always having a shady defence. That and the amount of managers that tend to come and go. And although in many other ways we are worlds apart, we both have rich histories. Glamour clubs. Sometimes more style than substance, but both of us on the road to progression rather than a road tinged with puddles of perdition.

And in Jose they have a manager shrewd and tactically astute enough to stifle the life out of both games and have us dumped out in inglorious fashion. The party pooper. And we have a man-manager at the helm of the first big club he's coached who has done what so many other have failed to achieve. Fulfil some of that pent up potential.

Jose knows his side won't be able to steam-roll us like the various assortments of Spanish fodder they dismantle week in week out. But he does know his English Premier League. There's a  suggestion (not that I tend to believe him as he's the master of the underplay) that he believes 0-0 tonight would be a good result. The thinking that not conceding at home will be enough to win the game across the two legs. As far as Madrid and Jose are considered, we must not score tonight.

Can't see anyone parking the bus. In fact, there's a part of me that worries that Madrid might just attempt to steam-roll.

Madrid also have a number of key players on yellow cards. So hoping Sandro can bring some of that physicality and incite some hot-tempered tempo to proceedings. We do however need to retain our cool. Remain composed. And not over extend beyond our means. Stand tall at the back and aim for a knock-down or two from the tall at the front.

We are not expected to win. We're not expected to beat them over the two games. So the pressure is on them. Leaving us to play without fear. Because to do otherwise would be regretful.

I hope our defence retain unity.
I hope Bale has 'a game'.
I hope vdV galvanises his team mates on his return to his former club.
I hope Modric dictates.
I hope our players show resounding mental strength.
I hope Harry gets one over Jose.

Win the midfield battle. Play with pace. Play with width. We have nothing to lose, right? We're not meant to be in the quarter-finals, right? I'm having flashbacks, 3-0 down to Young Boys.

Our spine has to be strong. It's not beyond the realms of impossibility to get a draw there. I'll be shocked to the bone if we collapsed Inter first leg style, all choked up and star struck. We're all grown up now. It's quintessentially Tottenham when you feel slightly more confident your team will perform against the might of Real than playing away to Wigan.

Come on you Spurs. Weather the White Storm. Let's be having the Madridistas waving their white handkerchiefs.

Game of your life Tottenham, game of your life.

Rafa talks Madrid, CL and Spurs (the great continental sensation)

Plenty of van der Vaart associated coverage today, mostly on the non-event of a story concerning his recent substitutions (he always subbed, no?) and his disgruntled walk down the tunnel. I say disgruntled because the thinking here is that if you walk straight down the tunnel it has nothing to do with treatment but everything to do with making a point and showing dissatisfaction. It probably does have more to do with the latter, but hardly Ghalyesque.

Rafa is a colourful character, no debate there. Yes, he has an ego. And Harry always likes to respond to a question with a sound bite that will make him look good. Mountain, mole hill. In my opinon. The Dutchmen has hardly blasted the gaffer has he? It’s denial, self-avoidance of admittance that he’s frustratingly still not fully fit and the substitutions are a necessity. I wouldn’t start trailing through the newsfeeds and forums to find a nugget of ITK or news of a possible summer replacement for him just yet.

There have been other interviews (again, mostly concentrating and quoting and then exaggerating the ‘spat’ with Harry), but thought this one below would be of more fulfilling interest. Masses of thanks to Tony Lacatena for working through the article and translating it for us. The interview is from today's Marca (the Spanish national sports newspaper that loves its Real Madrid). Not a mention of Redknapp.

Enjoy.

From: MARCA 22 March 2011, Page 4 (entire page)
 
VAN DER VAART "I'm not out for revenge, but this is the meeting of my dreams"
 
An interview with Sergio Fernandez

 
While the entire Tottenham dressing room was throwing their hands up to their heads following the [CL] draw, Rafael van der Vaart (Heemskerk, 1983) was displaying a cheeky grin. He will return to Madrid, where he is loved despite his brief sojourn. However he does so in order to continue making history with the "Spurs", the great continental sensation. Indeed so, with no rancour.

Q: Madrid crosses paths with you once again. This will be the first time you'll confront your ex-team, and no less than in the quarter finals of the CL. How do you face up to such a special tie for you?

A: To be honest, this was the meeting I'd dreamt of. I'm looking forward to seeing my friends from the club and team. I left RM in a good way and I'm proud to have been able to play there, in a top city and the biggest and nicest club in the world. I'm thankful every day for having been able to play for RM. These will be two very special matches for me on a personal and sporting level.

Q: You speak very well of your time with RM. Isn't there even a little bit of desire for revenge or to show that you still could have been a player in white?

A: Well no, I don't have the tiniest feeling of revenge, far from it. This is about feelings and links with the players, not the bosses. In two seasons I had good and bad moments. The biggest problem was that we didn't win anything, and because of this there were many changes in personnel. But there is no thirst for vengeance, at all. I enjoyed a big stage of my career in Madrid and I often recall those days. It's a memory I'll always take with me.

Q: How do Real Madrid with Mourinho look to you? Do you think the team have made a big leap in quality with the new manager, are they stronger now?

A: It looks very good to me. I get the impression they've grown a good deal. It is a great team.

Q: With Tottenham's permission, do you consider Madrid as one of the big favourites to win the CL?

A: (laughs) Of course. Unfortunately for them, Tottenham is crossing their path and we're going to have to stop them... (laughs again). No seriously, once you reach the quarter finals of the CL you can always win. You need a bit of luck, because to have got this far you have clearly proven that you are a good team. It will be a spectacular tie, passionate, an encounter worthy of the greatest European competition.

Q: How do you see RM in La Liga? Do you think that they are at a closer level to Barcelona compared to last year? Do you think they've closed the gap?

A: The previous season we managed almost 100 points in La Liga. Outrageous. With those points we would have been champions in almost all other previous seasons, if not all. The only thing is that Barcelona were immense too, better than we were. Unfortunately, I believe the same will happen this season. Madrid are phenomenal once again, but even so they're five points away. But the team looks better under Mourinho and I think that he is managing to bring them closer to Barcelona.

Q: The fans believe in Mourinho a lot and are convinced that they will return to winning titles with him.

A: Well, the truth is that there's a lot of season still to go and Mourinho has already proved with Porto, Chelsea and Inter that he's capable of transforming a team and win everything.

Q: Save Mou a trip to London to spy on you and tell me what are your team’s virtues are? What do Tottenham have that can surprise Madrid for a tie in which they're not favourites?

A: We are big team players, with lots of desire and we have quality. More so, we're able to play different types of football: generally a passing game, but we're also able to put everything into defence if need be, and to launch crosses into the area and look for chances. We hold lots of alternatives in our playing style, and that's important in Europe.
 
Q: Tottenham have a lot of good players in their books. Do you regard any one of your teammates above the rest?

A: Peter Crouch [haha]. He's a very difficult player for opponents to defend against.
 
Q: And what can you tell me of Gareth Bale? Over here he's creating a sensation, and there's talk of RM and Barcelona tracking him.

A: Another magnificent player. It's normal that they're tracking him.
 
Q: Having experienced the atmosphere at the Bernabeu on big nights, I imagine that you'll be advising your colleagues on how to deal with stage fright.

A: For sure, although we've already proved were able to bring our game in stadiums like the San Siro. It didn't bother us much when it was time to play. When you're in the game you forget the ambience around you.

Q: So you see your team as one with options, ready to bring a battle to a Madrid that, as you well know, is anxious to regain the European throne and conquer the Ten [the CL title].

A: We have enough quality to surprise RM over two games. If we get to play our game, we can get a good result at the Bernabeu. We'll have to produce our best, but we're ready for the challenge.

Cracking stuff. You heard it right - Crouch is endorsed by van der Vaart (that was an endorsement, right?). Tall joke aside, considering the amount of assists he's laid on for Rafa he was hardly going to pick anyone else. Although the less said about launching the ball in the box the better. Possibly something lost in translation there. He surely can't mean we hoof it. Crouch has good feet. Oh wait, he scores from the headed knock-downs. Horny sheath football it is then.

Thanks again to Tony for firing this across to me. Hoping that vdV keeps his cool and composure for that first tie in Madrid. No wild lunges and over-excited drama. Just a measured performance from a player both fit in mind and body leading the way forward at his galvanising best.

Tasty.

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.

My eyes have seen the glory

Here we go again.

Eyelids stapled open. Heart removed by Mola Ram and placed into mouth. Lilywhite straitjacket on. Legs and arms strapped into the roller-coaster carriage with no means of escape for a minimum of ninety minutes or so before ride ends. FAO the faint hearted; please refrain from queuing up.

As the ticker-tape entrance sees ripped up recycled paper and copies of the Evening Standard thrown up towards the North London sky whilst the teams walk out to rapturous ear-drum bursting noise, all our hopes will be focused on Spurs doing their own tear up of a Milan back-line, recycling some of that Glory Glory football, copyright to White Hart Lane N17 on any given European night.

So much is being discussed in the build up. Mostly all from Milan about how they’re going to win. We are left to wonder what team Harry will select, mostly based around the availability of key players. Bale and van der Vaart both in the squad. The latter far more likely to start if you believe the press coverage with Gareth on the bench. Corluka also fit. King has been training with the first team but is apparently not available. Best thing is to simply wait and see. Thanks to the art of mind games and second guessing.

You would expect Crouch to start, vdV to slot in behind him, Modric in the middle and possibly Sandro lining up there too. I refer you back to the mind-teasing whether Bale is fit to start. Considering the forceful Spurs is the one that includes the Dutch galvaniser in it, I would not expect him to be benched. Corluka in for Hutton at the back. If Bale doesn’t play then Pienaar most likely on the left. Defoe to play up front with Crouch if vdV is not quite fit to start.

Something like this (ideally):

Gomes
Corluka Gallas Dawson BAE
Lennon Sandro Modric Bale
vdV
Crouch

Ideally.

I did say it was best to wait and see.

Milan are either over-rated or old (or both) depending on which critic you prefer to listen to. I expected them to score in the first game. You look at their line-up and you imagine there’s goals in there. They’ve had their way against plenty of Serie A opposition this season but there was a lack of spark, imagination when they faced up to our strong, determined and high energy tireless work ethic. Patience saw us counter and score. Gomes perhaps our shot-stopping saviour at the back. We can't afford to risk the the time and space to test him, more than twice.

They will have to attack us at the Lane. Question is – can they over power us? Can they win the midfield battle, control possession and hit us for two or three goals? They have selection headaches too. They’re also an Italian club and you can argue it’s not quite in their nature to be gung-ho or cope with 100% Prem style attacks. Any form of attack from them however will (should) play into our hands. We need to be switched on from back to front to be able to turn Milan inside out.

Spurs in Europe, Spurs in Europe against a top top side – it’s not quite the same version as an off-key Tottenham at Wolves or Blackpool. Perhaps we are geared up more for Europe than consolidating a second Top 4 placement on the spin simply as a consequence of being part of the Champions League.

Perhaps that ethos of Glory and that desire to make history and live in the moment for the moment has consumed our players and club that they have consciously and subconsciously prioritised the Champions League. Not so much with a caveat stating ‘we’re in it to win it’ but rather to simply take it one game at a time, learn from our mistakes and evolve. But do so with refreshing swagger and accumulated belief.

Suddenly, on the eve of a game of this magnitude, you start to feel that old sentimental romanticised flutter of butterflies in your gut about how football, at it's purest level, is about the games. The moments. About being able to look back and pin point a time when your team created a piece of history that can never be taken away. Because it is about the moments. It should be about the moments.

Suddenly progressing in this Cup competition is actually more important than bread and butter league games. Perhaps that is naivety on my part thanks to the pumping of blood in my veins as the hour nears. Perhaps its a small team mentality that I've anchored myself onto our pretenders/underdogs tag because of the whispering pessimistic voice that tells me we might not quite make it back next year via the league. Perhaps that caveat simply needs revision to something akin to 'we might not win it but we might as well have a right go at it'. Because otherwise, what's the point? Where would you find those cherished moments otherwise? Echos of glory, right?

If we get through, we’ll be in the quarter-finals. That’s not too shabby for a side that was meant to be humiliated in the group stages. I’d say we’ve done what we’ve set out to achieve in making a very Lilywhite statement to all concerned. And the very fact that I’m sitting here thinking I will be disappointed and gutted if we go out more or less sums up the progress made by this club in such a short span of time. Some of the games have been pure box office. Made in Tottenham. Is there any other conceivable way?

(Okay, I do appreciate the importance of qualifying again in order to sustain the progression before you start on me)

I guess the last time I felt this tingle in my spin was the return leg against Sevilla. That tingle was replaced by a spasm very early on. Lessons. But that was a different Tottenham in a very different time.

Milan, over-rated or otherwise still have players capable of shocking us. I genuinely believe that whether they can or whether they believe they will - it's of no relevance if we display the same type of tempo and tenacity that we dished out to Inter when they were duly spanked 3-1. The visitors do not travel well having won just the once in fourteen away games in Blightly, losing the last nine. I pretty much hate stats like this because they are there to be broken up with an anomaly. But we would have to turn up with boot laces tied if we wanted to make this easy for them. Because anything less than making it difficult would be disappointing.

Go for their jugular. Ruin them.

I say, who cares for the side they select and the players that play. For me, it’s in our hands. It’s down to us. No crazy choke or nervous reaction to the occasion. No unnecessary dramatics. Play to our strengths. Play to win and play to win well. The last ten minutes of the game have to be beyond the reach of our opposition rather than having thousands of Spurs fans biting their nails off and eating into their fingers.

Pin-point their full-backs and set to destroy. Score an early goal. Do not concede an early goal. Show the same type of spirit that resulted with the 1-0 away win. Unlike Milan who played cautiously and without pomp, we at Spurs are of a different ilk – so please bring it Spurs.

Bring the bravado and the brilliance and knock out the Rossoneri and onwards we march.

Come on you Spurs.

The cult of the confused

At what point does a players inability to be above average consistently elevate him from being a bit rubbish to a cult hero? What is a cult hero exactly? I've always associated the term with someone  that wasn't great and bullish enough to tap into the mainstream as a recognised top drawer player. Although you could tag a highly skilled luxury player or someone who played out of their skin and above their grade (even if they were blatantly out of their depth in doing so) for the shirt with the same backhanded compliment.

In modern times you might look no further than Steffen Freund as the perfect example. Plenty of posturing and screaming to make up for his distinct lack of anything. But legend they call him because he played with his heart on his sleeve. And sometimes his inane battle cries worked. But you can't help but love the blokes love for THFC and thus it doesn't matter how average a player he was, even though the fundamental crux of the matter is the football and how well you can play it.

Zokora is another player that had very little footballing astuteness. Loved his rampaging runs forward, single direction, forward in a straight line, no stopping, just forward until he either fell over or blasted the ball to the moon. He too had tenacity. Fantastic athlete just no grey matter.

Maybe cult isn't the right terminology here, but when exactly does a player become much maligned/hated/abused and when does he find categorisation as said 'cult' and thus excused for his failings because, well, he just wont make the grade so may as well accept him for what he is and love him unconditionally for at least giving something back, be it, in spurts of joy rather prolonged sessions of love.

Jenas is hardly cult. But much maligned he is. Why? Is it because we expect so much more from him? Or because he doesn't do a zany dance when we win games? Is cult simply a tolerable level of acceptance? A standard that can sometimes exist outside other standards because there's a necessity for this middle ground of footballers?

When we sat just above mid-table we sort of tolerated the likes of Zoko until we worked out he was not the answer to our defensive midfield frailties. But now we sit Top 4, contenders (we aspire to be) there is no room for this ilk of footballing 'star'. We need finished articles. Not random pages stripped out of comic books.

I find it humorous that one or two Spurs fans have suddenly labelled Wilson Palacios as a cult player because of the over excitable commitment he has shown in recent games, when not too long ago he was a 'destroyer', commanding as the stop-gap in midfield before personal issues consumed his confidence. Some of us are stretching the boundaries a little it seems.

Or say a player like Alfie Conn (if we choose to go back to the past) who was hardly rubbish but had a short yet memorable stay at the Lane and endeared himself to many whether it was ball at feet or sitting on top of it. A good type of cult? Talented but not a world beater.

The other end of the spectrum, you'll find Gary Doherty who was not good enough for the top flight, yet he tried bless him, boy did he try. His awarkdness, his lack of elegance, his ginger hair. A cult followers wet dream. But when you strip away the t-shirts what are you left with? Just a lad who was over-rated by those who signed him and over-used because of the lack of depth at the club at the time.

Would cult befit someone like John White? I don't think so. White is tinged with legend, a life cut short by a freak accident, a storming presence in our greatest ever side.

I've seen the phrase tagged onto the likes of van der Vaart, who is hardly someone benefiting from the vocal support of a minority. Hardly. Bit like calling Dimitar cult for the Berbarotic he subjected to us that had so many blinded for a season. But say vdV left us this summer, would that warrant cult status because his Lilywhite days would be nothing more than a pocket of appearances?

Is BAE cult? What with the two distinctive groups of support, one that rates him the other that is perpetually unsure?

Okay, so let's return to the first sentence of this article. At what point does a players inability to be above average consistently elevate him from being a bit rubbish to a cult hero? Do they simply require an occasional fire in the belly or marauding run and skill or perhaps something side splitting funny (row z again) to gain notoriety? One game or a glut of goals? Or inconsistency tinged with genius?

Is it in the eye of the beholder or is it a polite way of saying, you weren't that good, not great enough to be a legend but you did something that will not be forgotten. A gentle, respectful nod. Nothing more nothing less.

Thoughts?

I haart van der Vaart

Word from the sponsor.

2 points, 8 games, 1 hero and Taxi for Maicon proved a tad popular and what with Studs Up churning out tee shirts faster than Tottenham are reporting injured players it's no surprise that after 'arry's defining catchphrase and Bale's decimation of Inter we're now treated to yet another wonder of fabric for the style concious mods amongst you: I Haart van der Vaart.

It's lovely. A bit like Rafa's wife Sylvie.

Just putting it out there.

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.