5-Star Tottenham Break Tynecastle Hearts

To be fair, there are probably about a billion potential Hearts related headlines that one could concoct this morning. That one was the first one that popped in the ol’ coconut, so I’m running with it.

To the great ire of some of the Scottish contingent who found their way over here, the previous article suggested that Hearts weren’t very good. In light of what they offered up as an opposing force, it now sounds like a little pre-match flattery rather than an attempt summarise their footballing prowess. They were truly dreadful and we took full advantage.

Without ever needing to get out of second gear, the arrogant London nasties had the temerity to turn up, not be in the least bit fazed by the supposedly white-hot reception awaiting them at the famous old ground, and then proceed to deal out something of a lesson to their bewildered sweaty cousins. The Portuguese lad given a go at managing the Jam Tarts this week could regularly be seen with his hands shielding his eyes from what must have been extremely uncomfortable viewing for a man of his experience. Well Toto, you'
re not in Lisbon any more. You’ve got quite a job on your hands.

It’s hard to contextualise our showing given the opposition; Monday nights little jaunt a bit less further North will provide a greater barometer of what condition our pre-season has left us in, but there was no doubting that the movement, sharpness, hunger and professionalism were a joy to behold. Some of the VdV/Krankie/Lennon/Bale link up in the first half was top class. Even Defoe looked good. For a bit. The Frankenstein combination of Charlie’s brain and Alan Hutton’s physicality seems to be bearing early fruit in the form of young Kyle Walker as well, which was perhaps most encouraging of all.

A few of the youth team and a run out for the fringe players would be nice to see for next Thursdays return leg.

United up next. Vidic out for 5 weeks and Ferdinand not ready until their game at le arse? Us playing champagne football? It can only go one way…

Jam Tarts and Goal Nets. Let The Games Begin.

Awake from your slumber fellow Totters, for the new season is upon us.

It wasn’t my intention to be so quiet over the summer, but when the only pulse quickeners are the signing of a goalkeeper with more miles on the clock than my old Mum’s Fiesta, an injury to Sandro, and an ad inifinitum ‘saga’ involving last years Player of the Season, it’s not hard to see where the initial optimism of a clear out and overhaul of the front line went… and then there was the postponement of battle for a further 9 days; our domestic campaign now beginning at our least favourite Premierland hunting ground. Good grief.

Like a CarpetRight in Tottenham High Road, the dust that has enshrouded the squad and it’s potential fire-sale has begun to settle. Who’ll be standing, and who will have fallen when Tottenham’s transfer watch (GMT +20 (ish) minutes) ticks over into the no-buy zone? Stories linking us to the likes of Eto’o, Rossi, Hulk, Falcao and other sticker book shine-ey’s have begun to fall away, replaced with far more likely lads. The fixer-uppers. Players who’ve lost their way a bit and are in need of a loving home. Diarra would be an excellent piece of business, as Adebayor would be just the ticket. Samba? I’m tempted to say that 10m of investment in an area that looks pretty strong might be a misallocation of reportedly scarce resources. Then I remember we’ve got the not-so reliable fitness of Ledley and Billy G as back up to Daws and Kaboul. Then I have flash backs of Bassong up at Blackpool last term. Then I realise that this is an area in need of attention. Big Chris would do for me.

Having seen the line-ups from some of our pre-season games, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who felt the face-numbing disappointment that the sight of ‘Jenas 8’ and ‘Keane 10’ seem to inspire, but it would appear that some of our orange cutters and pot boys might finally be freeing up some of those valuable squad places. Keane going anywhere except the Lodge for his daily ‘three s’s’ and rub down is a blessing. All the better that it’s to the Galaxy, far, far away, where we can all hope to see and hear from him as little as possible. Unfortunately, Jenas will probably have to be carried out of there.

Giovanni Dos Santos has removed his novelty ‘My Drinking Team Have A Football Problem’ t-shirt for long enough to get TWO real life football teams bidding for his services. Udinese are offering more money, but Sevilla are his preferred choice. I’m quite sure a compromise will be reached for the sanity of all involved.

Despite being left outside the local charity shop, Alan Hutton still managed to find his way back to the club, and would even appear to have got himself a white shirt with a number on it. Alex McLeish is Scottish and the manager of an average football club. Alan Hutton is Scottish and when his brain flickers into life, he can do a good impression of an average defender. Let’s hope this isn’t just lazy journalism and that there is lots of truth in this one.

In a development involving actual football, we’ve got ourselves what appears to be a competitive fixture on Thursday night in the shape of Scottish ‘best of the rest’ Heart of Midlothian. Initially describing the Ropey Cup as a ‘killer’, there couldn’t have been a much kinder draw for Harry to be contemplating, what with them being about as local as you could hope for from an open European draw, and also being. You know. Not very good. My feeling is that we’ll view this fixture as a glorified pre-season friendly. My fear is that they won’t. Our precious lambs could be on the end of some pretty industrial treatment.

More intriguing from the point of view of the Modric situation will be whether he gets any game time. Am I right in thinking that if he represents us on Thursday night, that he’ll be unable to represent any other side in European competition for the rest of the season? Keep your eyes peeled for any ‘thigh strains’ in the next couple of days.

As far as a season prediction goes, a lot will depend on the business we’re able to conduct in the next couple of weeks, but if we can keep the big guns, get the players we’re (realistically) linked to, then I see no reason that we can’t reach those heady heights of the top 4 and start pissing with the big boys once more.

Hold on tight and try to enjoy the ride. Welcome back Tottenham.

Spurs Something Something Riot and Sandro’s Out

Hello again.

Apologies for the extended silence, but as my Nan used to say: If you haven’t got anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. To adapt it slightly, nothing Tottenham related to stir the emotions leaves one writing a lot of rumour related nonsense that bores all involved… but then if that’s the attitude, perhaps I’m missing the point of all this Tottenham blogging stuff?

Blogging existentialism aside, there was one bit of Tottenham news from last week that peaked the interest. Unfortunately however, the news that Sandro won’t be putting on his tracksuit at the Lodge until mid-September wasn’t quite the rush of euphoria that us glum Hotspur window gazers were after. Quite the opposite in fact. With his central midfielding partner attempting a prison break from Chigwell Scrubs, the onus of being the talismanic tick-tocker was falling rather more rapidly than we would have imagined onto the shoulders of the young Brazilian. I’m sure I’m not the only one who was preparing my ‘the Croatian might have left, but at least we’ve got Sandro’ line, ready to be trotted out on the first day of term, now just over a month away.

We also started our pre-season off with a defeat against the Kaiser Chiefs. I’ll resist the temptation to do a pun on the band who go by the same name, mainly because I wouldn’t want anyone reading this to think I was cool enough to know any current bands or indeed the songs they play. They did the one about rioting yeah? I only saw the score line and eventually 20 seconds of SSN highlights, so am unable to pass any comment beyond this little snapshot, but the starting line-up was pretty horrible reading. Hutton, Jenas, Keane, Defoe etc. Is it 2007 again already? Seeing the names of these footballing slop tray botherers on a Tottenham team sheet is enough to make one self-harm. The shattering reality that these are people- one, if not all- will eventually be turned to at some point in this coming campaign requires medical intervention.

Elsewhere, there’s a lot of ITK hot air but no home-shirted transfer balloons to show for it. Mind you, in a world where Stewart Downing is worth 20 million of the Queen’s, I’d rather wait a bit longer.

Also, I think this lil’ ol’ blog is finally on newsnow. I haven’t had a confirmation email but I put that logo over there in the corner like they asked, but there was a moving image thing that I’m too technologically disabled to be able to work out… so greetings new visitors, if you’ve found your way here.

It’s Happening Again, Mummy

Alright, yeah?

Been away for the weekend, I do hope I haven’t missed anythi…

… oh my.

You want us to part as friends? I think I received a letter of similar sentiment from a bird once. Yes absolutely, jump into bed with the next door neighbour and all civilities will be maintained when I see you romping around in their back garden. No problem.

It’s easy to lash out at Luka, and while his comments certainly mean he should be on the receiving end of some very stern fist shaking gestures and ‘evils’, let’s not forget that it’s been our abject failure to finish in fourth place or recruit sufficient numbers of players who match his ambitions that have lead to this. The ITK’s have mentioned enquiries about Aguero, Rossi and Eto’o. A year ago, maybe this could have been passed off as good humoured drunken rubbish. This year it’s pure psychotropic trip-balls delusional fantasy.

At least Levy’s got the techies to copy and paste the same ‘you shall not pass’ message from a couple of years back. ‘’We will not be selling Dimitar Berbatov Robbie Keane Luka Modric for any amount of money. Unless of course, he throws his toys out of the pram, and when that happens, please make sure you have your least promising strikers available for loan and a blank cheque for the Tottenham Hotspur Foundation.’’

‘I thought you were different?’ Something else I’ve heard outside of a footballing arena, but this time, we all thought we’d reeeeeeeally got something made of sterner, loyaler, gooder stuff. As a top footballer, the least classy thing you can do is sign for Manchester City. The second least classy thing you could do is sign for Chelski. I think that might be the basis of at least half of my disappointment. A man I’d revered as not only a classy footballer, but a classy professional and human, suddenly revealing he has ambitions to play at Chelski. Like your missis turning round and telling you she’s leaving you for John Terry. To quote every drunk, dumped girl in the world ‘Why do I always fall for this type of guy?’ ‘Is it meeeeeeee?’ ‘It must be meeeeeeee!’ *weeps pathetically for hours*.

Nothing left but to sit back and watch it fizzle out to its inevitable conclusion. A crumb of consolation would be getting Sturridge thrown into the deal.

The new kits have arrived! I for one always like ‘Orgazmo’. On par with ‘BaseKetBall’, better than ‘Cannibal: The Musical’, not in the league of ‘South Park’ or ‘Team America’, but certainly a noteworthy addition to Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s film career. Nice one Spurs for giving it a bit of recognition. What can you say about the home shirt? It’s white with the badge on it. The re-inventing of the wheel will be at least another year then? The purple one which seems to be coming in for some stick is actually my favourite one, not least because it conjures up images of Sheringham and Klinsmann away at Sheffield Wednesday. Still not going to buy it though, this Plc have had enough money out of me for the time being thank-you-very-much.

Transfer Rubbish: Part 2 (of too many)

Cheeky bid

Can you believe it! Can you ACTUALLY believe it…

The Goonies want Defoe! News this morning from reputable outlets such as the BBC gossip column and some bloke paid by the letter to produce content for FootballRagAndBone.com has the Faces promoter being the answer to scoring more goals down at the Sticklebricks Stadium. Can you imagine Defoe and Walcott in the same side, trying desperately to assist each other putting the round thing in the netty thing? The image of two penguins trying to read a tube map springs to mind. It’s the sort of thing I’d feel bad wishing upon them. But I will.

Oh yeah, and apparently Chelski have lodged a ‘bid’ of 22 million doubloons for the contractual release and services of Luka Jeremiah Lazarus Poseidon Leotard Modric. I say ‘bid’, as it reminds me of the time I found myself at a charity auction for outrageously self-important types, and put in a blind bid of about twenty quid for a two week holiday in Mauritius, just so it looked as if I wasn’t there for the free booze. You never know, maybe nobody else would notice and I’d walk away with the prize? Turns out it went for several hundred times more than that. Or it could mean that perhaps today is some sort of Russian equivalent of April fools.

On the other hand, this could be great news for us, with some sense finally being restored to the transfer market. It will mean that we’ll be free to go and bid 5 million quid for Torres and Sturridge in return, while comfortably having enough left over to buy Suarez and Carroll for 8. Viva la Revolución!

OK, let’s go for a newsnow lucky dip, I’ll be 2 minutes…

…Ah, that’s a shame. Woody released (chortle. guffaw). We’ll always have Wembley *wipes away single tear*

Berbatov back to Spurs when Ashley Young deal is done. We’re doing that again are we?

Something about Harry eyeing up £7m prospect. No sir, you will not have my click.

Well that was depressing. More bleating than a shearing shed over on twitter so I’m off to tell everyone I’ve got a snout in Leicester who’s seen Heskey having lunch with Levy. Toodles.

Stand Up For Martin Jol

Picture courtesy of @mattcg. A link to his Spurs pictures blog is just over there, top left. 

White Hart Lane, Thursday 25^th October 2007. Not four years have passed, but a night so fabled, it already feels like part of Tottenham folklore. The tale of the manager who sat on the bench presiding over his sides 2-1 home defeat to Getafe, the whole ground singing his name as the news began to filter through the cold, huddled collective that the dead man walking had finally keeled over. Sitting on the bench, managing his team, unaware of what everyone else knew. He had been publicly sacked, but there he was, the dignified Dutchman still playing away on the deck of his own sinking vessel, still focused on trying to steer his crew to victorious waters. ‘Stand Up For Martin Jol’, roared the crowd. They did. To add further insult, none but a certain Bulgarian delivered the confirmation; putting his arm around his shoulders after the final whistle and said ‘sorry boss’. Only then did the penny drop for Big Martin Jol.

The courting of Juande Ramos in the lead up to the climactic, and very public, shoeing of BMJ was perhaps the biggest source of shame for us fans; seemingly able to bear the weight of years of under achievement and poor management at every level, but ashamed to see those entrusted with the running of our club treating a man, who had always conducted himself with the utmost grace under fire, so shabbily. We are our club, and our club had just done something that reflected very poorly on us, the blind followers of said institution. Tottenham publicly humiliated the big, cuddly man with the funny accent on live TV, therefore all Tottenham fans are the types who mug old ladies and slash wheelchair tyres. It wasn’t something that sat comfortably with anyone associated with the club.

Affable, honest, no-nonsense- an adopted Englishman and a true Tottenham man we could all relate to, the outpouring of sympathy for the big man was as justified as it was blinkered. The two fifth placed finishes held up in isolation sound impressive, especially given that the first one was a lasagne and a decent away showing away from being a fourth placed, possible UCL qualifier, but things began to slide from there. Unable to recover from the setback, the following seasons 5^th placed finish was nowhere near as impressive, never challenging for fourth, and several poor results were compounded when a classy, Ramos led Sevilla side came and danced around us in the UEFA Cup, exposing the gaps in BMJ’s tactical armoury.

The writing was on the wall from there. Levy had seen how far behind the best that the UEFA Cup had to offer we were, never mind the Champions League, and knew that a change was needed. Terrace support for Jol was generally very good, but a few knew that, deep down, he wasn’t quite good enough to take us to the next level and keep us there. It was obvious to Levy for a long time, and although the means in this case were particularly mean, the removal of Jol was necessary in the pursuit of Champions League football.

There are 3 moments from the reign of BMJ that stick in my memory, and in a way, encapsulate all you need to know about his time at Tottenham.

1)      Going toe-to-toe with Wenger as the Frenchman bleated about a ball that should have been put out of play while one of their lot was down with some sort of ‘injury’. ‘I DID NOT SEE IT’ yelled Jol in the face of the exasperated Wenger. Ironic, grizzly and unmoved. The traits that made him so popular.

2)      Tainio picking up a second booking in the home leg against Sevilla, fouling his opponent who continued rolling once hitting the deck. Tainio then walked after him, making sarcastic rolling motions with his arms to emphasise the dive, but like his manager, had no other answer to the wiley foreign invader than to gesticulate impotently.

3)      Daniel Levy smiling in the Old Trafford stands as we were on course for another annual beating at the hands of Manchester United. ‘This’ll make the whole firing business a bit easier for me’, he appeared to say. Or maybe he was thinking about something funny his mate had said earlier. Either way, it’s an enduring image from Jol-ey’s final domestic outing in the Tottenham tracksuit.

Following his appointment to the Craven Cottage hot seat this morning, there isn’t a Spurs fan out there who won’t be wishing him all the very best, and any Fulham fan looking for a reference from a terrace trotter won’t need to look too far for a glowing one from any of our number. I can guarantee you his commitment to the cause, a hugely likeable man and the odd ‘darling’ to any ladies in the studio. A charmer and a gentleman. Just don’t expect any tactical master classes.

Barely a home game goes by where a member of the double side isn’t trotted out for a mumbled monologue and bit of a wave- great men, but representative of a different time that I and an increasing majority weren’t around to enjoy. I remember Martin Jol fondly, and despite his flaws and the inevitability of his departure, I’ll be looking forward to welcoming back with an ‘apologies on behalf of the club BMJ, we all still really like you’ type applause.

Stand Up for Martin Jol

Transfer Rubbish 2011 Part One (of too many)

What-ho!

Goodness me, we’ve only just got our noses through June’s door, and there’s already been enough chatter, hot air, Chinese whispers and laughable embellishment to make a WI sewing circle blush.

From non-descript forums telling us that some bloke from Bolton has been placing ‘five-figure sums’ on ol’ ‘arry to be the next numero… one at Stamford Bridge, to translation with a slant from Croatia’s Premier daily rag (It’s a Croatian newspaper! Luka is Croatian! It MUST all be true! Why would they lie?!) that Modders will be clearing his locker at The Lodge and leaving fruit baskets for all the pals he can’t wait to run away from, we’ve had some lovely stuff to contemplate, cogitate and digest in the form of micro-blog twit poo’s. *In John Anderson off Gladiators voice* Angry tweeters! You will spew forth on my first whistle. Pragmatists! You will attempt to add reason to proceedings on my second whistle. The rest of you, respond like residents of South Park being asked your opinion on the town’s flag (too obscure???). Three, two, one…

On the Harry stuff, I had an eye witness account from INSIDE Tottenham, that the day prior to all the odds tumbling, Harry had a meeting with ‘Dan’. I am THAT well connected! Not the most sizzling ITK you’ll ever here, but nonetheless, there was confirmed contact, which started the rusty head cogs turning once all the rumours started coming out. Transfer targets or managerial future being the main discussion? As long as it wasn’t anything to do with selling Luka. If it was, I’d like to think of it as being item uno on the agenda, under the title of ‘Things to avoid doing if we want to sell any tickets next year’. Just waiting on newsnow for the lazy, Championship Manager overdose inspired ‘Berba plus cash’ headlines to start. *Checks newsnow. Dies*

Elsewhere, the codneys at FIFA have done it again. It was a nail biter wasn’t it? Was he going to win by 180 votes to nil, or 181 votes to nil? I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Also, BBC, corruption in FIFA is a very legitimate and worthy use of half an hour of prime time viewing, but if you’re going to do investigative Panorama exposés into it, how about you spare us the tourettes riddled old buzzard and employ somebody with a little more presence and reason than a mad uncle. Cheers yeah.

So has Brad Freidel signed then? I can’t bear to look on the official site to check, lest I get ambushed by the endless ‘Opening New Daws’ or ‘Will To Win For Gallas’ headlines that will inevitably cause instant ear haemorrhaging. Not the marquee signature we’re all longing for but a solid edition, knows the English game, other generic ‘looking-on-the-bright-side’ related comment. Welcome.