Like the flirtations of a beautiful deaf woman, there were encouraging signs about Spurs’ first game of the season at the Sports Direct Arena.
A creditable, high energy performance brought no reward in terms of points, but instilled sufficient faith that the Villas-Boas blueprint may find a far more coherent execution in his second foray into Premier League management.
Perhaps most heartening of all was watching a Spurs side tick without the midfield promptings of absent conductor Luka Modric. The team still requires reconstructive surgery in the form of emergency striker enhancement and squad liposuction, but I saw enough at first hand in the Tyneside sunshine to suggest an entertaining and potentially successful season in the noble half of North London.
Myopic FA Cup semi-final referee Martin Atkinson’s involvement was about as welcome as a honeymoon STI, but despite a liberal sprinkle of home decisions (notably soft bookings for Sandro and Jake Livermore) Spurs’ endeavour was undone by a sumptuous strike from Demba Ba and a softly-conceded penalty following Jermain Defoe’s predatory equaliser.
Ever the unfortunate, Spurs conceded the decisive spot-kick with just ten men on the field (with Sandro temporarily waved off by Atkinson following treatment) having, in the finest Tottenham tradition, mentally switched off after the restart. The dual, uneducated lunges of Aaron Lennon and Rafael van der Vaart arguably merited two penalties.
Spurs had previously hit the post through the livewire Defoe and bar via Gareth Bale’s looping header and pressed Newcastle deep into their own half with a high octane tempo that augurs well for the games to come.
Yet in the dying embers of the game, AVB’s only remaining card was to introduce rookie Harry Kane for his Premier League debut; insufficient firepower for the task in hand and never likely to bring a merited Spurs equaliser. One can only hope (or pray to any listening god or deity) that the wheezing moths are finally released from Daniel Levy’s tightly-zipped wallet and a high end frontman arrives in time for the first home game of the season against Steve Clarke's buoyant West Brom.
Otherwise, it's time to convert Heurelho Gomes to a striker and wave in a new era of chaos.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Kanu solves Spurs striker crisis, implements new loyalty point system
Somewhere in a dimly-lit basement below Spurs ticket office, a tired looking Nigerian is crunching numbers. A door suddenly opens, revealing a burst of near-blinding light that causes the middle-aged man to recoil and shield his bloodshot eyes.
A Tottenham employee descends the flight of stone steps and extends a friendly, welcoming hand to Spurs’ new international striker.
“Hello Kanu! They told me you were down here.”
“Aaagh! Your grip, so strong, like five coiled snakes around my fingers.”
“Sorry mate. Welcome to Spurs. We hope you can follow where Louis Saha left off.”
“When I signed for the Chairman, I was told I would play a significant part in the new season. But here I am, adding up loyalty points. We had a gentleman’s agreement.”
“The deal suited all parties. Portsmouth were delighted with those Greggs vouchers. Can I have your autograph?”
“It is hard…..hard..to hold a pen these days. Can I sign with a rubber stamp?”
Kanu dips a rubber stamp into some blood red ink and marks the Spurs employee’s autograph book alongside his prized Andy Booth signature.
“It says ‘legal immigrant’.”
The experienced striker shrugs innocently and rolls a couple of dice.
“So how are the new loyalty points working out?”
“Still adding them up using the new formula. Number of years a season ticket holder…14…multiplied by the roll of two dice…11… equals….123 loyalty points.”
“I’m no Vorderman, but I think your maths is a bit off there."
“Numbers…..never my strong suit…except when it comes to wages. Then I am the African Rainman.”
“You okay for Saturday at the Sports Direct? You look a bit…tired.”
The Nigerian picks up three arthritis tablets and washes them down with a glass of cloudy water.
“I’m a strong man, heart of a lion. 47 ye…27 years old and (cough) ready for (splutters)…another new season. Bring on (cough) the Geordies. I can hold the ball up like away tickets in the post. Why (cough) is it so dusty down here?”
“We had to sack the old cleaner Vedran because he was so slow, I mean prehistoric. But we’ve got a new guy now. Luka! Luka! Get your arse down here.“
A Tottenham employee descends the flight of stone steps and extends a friendly, welcoming hand to Spurs’ new international striker.
“Hello Kanu! They told me you were down here.”
“Aaagh! Your grip, so strong, like five coiled snakes around my fingers.”
“Sorry mate. Welcome to Spurs. We hope you can follow where Louis Saha left off.”
“When I signed for the Chairman, I was told I would play a significant part in the new season. But here I am, adding up loyalty points. We had a gentleman’s agreement.”
“The deal suited all parties. Portsmouth were delighted with those Greggs vouchers. Can I have your autograph?”
“It is hard…..hard..to hold a pen these days. Can I sign with a rubber stamp?”
Kanu dips a rubber stamp into some blood red ink and marks the Spurs employee’s autograph book alongside his prized Andy Booth signature.
“It says ‘legal immigrant’.”
The experienced striker shrugs innocently and rolls a couple of dice.
“So how are the new loyalty points working out?”
“Still adding them up using the new formula. Number of years a season ticket holder…14…multiplied by the roll of two dice…11… equals….123 loyalty points.”
“I’m no Vorderman, but I think your maths is a bit off there."
“Numbers…..never my strong suit…except when it comes to wages. Then I am the African Rainman.”
“You okay for Saturday at the Sports Direct? You look a bit…tired.”
The Nigerian picks up three arthritis tablets and washes them down with a glass of cloudy water.
“I’m a strong man, heart of a lion. 47 ye…27 years old and (cough) ready for (splutters)…another new season. Bring on (cough) the Geordies. I can hold the ball up like away tickets in the post. Why (cough) is it so dusty down here?”
“We had to sack the old cleaner Vedran because he was so slow, I mean prehistoric. But we’ve got a new guy now. Luka! Luka! Get your arse down here.“
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Help Emmanuel Adebayor, make poverty history
As legendary wit and Spur Peter Cook once famously opined: “I have learned from my mistakes and I am sure I can repeat them exactly.”
Daniel Levy, take note.
With the season opener at Newcastle less than two weeks away, our beloved Tottenham tread familiar ground, a third consecutive summer transfer window without the purchase of a leading striker and a second with our midfield playmaker agitating for a move.
Luka Modric has ‘joined Real Madrid’ so many times that the merest mention of the Croatian’s name has rendered sleeping pills redundant. Whisper ‘Luka Modric’s advisors have agreed terms on a £28million deal to Real Madrid’ in an insomniac’s ear and watch them black out and fall face first into a pillow.
Meanwhile, ‘The black Bono’ Emmanuel Adebayor has simultaneously been ‘signing for Spurs’ for eight weeks. The deal only being held up by the mad-haired striker’s heartfelt wish that Manchester City pay him to solve world poverty.
Both situations, it now seems, will rumble on inevitably to August 31st or ‘St. Levy’s Day’ as it is known in less salubrious parts of Edmonton (widely known as Edmonton).
New coach Andre Villas-Boas has become a curious co-conspirator at ‘striker light’ Spurs : "In this market it's important to make good, sound bids, not just to do anything for the sake of it,” parroted AVB this week. “We are hopefully moving in the market in the next couple of days or weeks.”
Days? Weeks? We’ve been trying to buy a striker for three-and-a-half f***ing years, Andre. Let’s not rush into anything!
A venerable Spurs fan sent me an email today highlighting the obvious folly of Levy’s transfer brinkmanship. One quote, in particular, deserves a wider audience.
“What Daniel Levy seems oblivious to is that the points lost during a dodgy start to a season may be sufficient to deny Champions League qualification at the end of it; so hanging on to August 31st in an effort to hammer down a fee might save ‘x’ pounds in the short-term, but a much greater sum ‘y’ turns out to be lost later on. I can never see the economic sense in that. And, of course, having new recruits in place well before the opening fixture makes so much more sense in terms of team preparation.”
Small wonder that Spurs often start the season with slug-like urgency and pay so dearly at its conclusion.
The Adebayor transfer, given his ludicrous wages and possible detachment from reality, was always going to be a tough one to seal. The lack of traction in an alternative deal is as disappointing as it is unsurprising.
For all Adebayor’s personal quirks, there is little denying he fits the Spurs system and was a major contributor in Tottenham’s best performances of last season.
His signature could solve the club’s neverending striker crisis and potentially thwart world poverty. But expect neither to happen before the Newcastle game.
Daniel Levy, take note.
With the season opener at Newcastle less than two weeks away, our beloved Tottenham tread familiar ground, a third consecutive summer transfer window without the purchase of a leading striker and a second with our midfield playmaker agitating for a move.
Luka Modric has ‘joined Real Madrid’ so many times that the merest mention of the Croatian’s name has rendered sleeping pills redundant. Whisper ‘Luka Modric’s advisors have agreed terms on a £28million deal to Real Madrid’ in an insomniac’s ear and watch them black out and fall face first into a pillow.
Meanwhile, ‘The black Bono’ Emmanuel Adebayor has simultaneously been ‘signing for Spurs’ for eight weeks. The deal only being held up by the mad-haired striker’s heartfelt wish that Manchester City pay him to solve world poverty.
Both situations, it now seems, will rumble on inevitably to August 31st or ‘St. Levy’s Day’ as it is known in less salubrious parts of Edmonton (widely known as Edmonton).
New coach Andre Villas-Boas has become a curious co-conspirator at ‘striker light’ Spurs : "In this market it's important to make good, sound bids, not just to do anything for the sake of it,” parroted AVB this week. “We are hopefully moving in the market in the next couple of days or weeks.”
Days? Weeks? We’ve been trying to buy a striker for three-and-a-half f***ing years, Andre. Let’s not rush into anything!
A venerable Spurs fan sent me an email today highlighting the obvious folly of Levy’s transfer brinkmanship. One quote, in particular, deserves a wider audience.
“What Daniel Levy seems oblivious to is that the points lost during a dodgy start to a season may be sufficient to deny Champions League qualification at the end of it; so hanging on to August 31st in an effort to hammer down a fee might save ‘x’ pounds in the short-term, but a much greater sum ‘y’ turns out to be lost later on. I can never see the economic sense in that. And, of course, having new recruits in place well before the opening fixture makes so much more sense in terms of team preparation.”
Small wonder that Spurs often start the season with slug-like urgency and pay so dearly at its conclusion.
The Adebayor transfer, given his ludicrous wages and possible detachment from reality, was always going to be a tough one to seal. The lack of traction in an alternative deal is as disappointing as it is unsurprising.
For all Adebayor’s personal quirks, there is little denying he fits the Spurs system and was a major contributor in Tottenham’s best performances of last season.
His signature could solve the club’s neverending striker crisis and potentially thwart world poverty. But expect neither to happen before the Newcastle game.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Why can’t Tottenham buy a striker?
Someone put Daniel Levy on a conference call with Bob Crow; the bolshy union boss doesn’t have a problem locating strikers.
While the AVB revolution promises a brave new world for many Spurs fans, other more predictable traits remain difficult to shake; in the last 4.5 transfer windows Tottenham have still failed to buy a striker.
In a Shakespearean mixture of farce and tragedy, Spurs only have one ‘goalscorer’ (forgive the highly liberal use of the term) available in rookie Harry Kane for the remainder of the club’s US tour following another heartbreaking bereavement for the Defoe family. Our thoughts and condolences are obviously with Jermain at this sad time.
With the Adebayor deal dragging like a thalidomide dog, preseason preparations have that familiar sense of imbalance. Is there another club in the football world approaching a new season with a solitary (senior) striker on its books? Does Daniel Levy have a goalscorer allergy? If so, break out the antihistamine; we need to score goals.
Certainly, two new frontmen are a prerequisite ahead of the new campaign. I may be a lone voice here, but the sale and misuse of Roman Pavlyuchenko continues to bemuse when the club’s only other striking options were a high maintenance loan striker (Adebayor) and a player with just two years left on his contract (Defoe). The Russian’s goals-per-minute record was exemplary. Sell by all means, but only when a replacement with working limbs is available.
On Thursday night, I was lucky enough to view two potential striking options for Spurs in Hulk and Leonardo Damaio whilst attending the Brazil-Egypt Olympic match at the Millennium Stadium. While Hulk is a handful, he does not represent value in the £35 million bracket and lacked the nous one might expect at such a hefty price tag. Damaio, meanwhile, looked highly suited to the English game with his physicality, touch and instinct for goal. Obviously, this was just one match, but on the basis of their respective price tags (Damaio retails at £25 million) and age (Hulk is three years older) then Damaio is a far more savvy target.
With the new season a mere three weeks away, Spurs can’t allow a(nother) genuine striker crisis to limp to a closing transfer window. It remains the most important piece of the puzzle. Yet still we wait for a solution. Is Leon Knight available?
While the AVB revolution promises a brave new world for many Spurs fans, other more predictable traits remain difficult to shake; in the last 4.5 transfer windows Tottenham have still failed to buy a striker.
In a Shakespearean mixture of farce and tragedy, Spurs only have one ‘goalscorer’ (forgive the highly liberal use of the term) available in rookie Harry Kane for the remainder of the club’s US tour following another heartbreaking bereavement for the Defoe family. Our thoughts and condolences are obviously with Jermain at this sad time.
With the Adebayor deal dragging like a thalidomide dog, preseason preparations have that familiar sense of imbalance. Is there another club in the football world approaching a new season with a solitary (senior) striker on its books? Does Daniel Levy have a goalscorer allergy? If so, break out the antihistamine; we need to score goals.
Certainly, two new frontmen are a prerequisite ahead of the new campaign. I may be a lone voice here, but the sale and misuse of Roman Pavlyuchenko continues to bemuse when the club’s only other striking options were a high maintenance loan striker (Adebayor) and a player with just two years left on his contract (Defoe). The Russian’s goals-per-minute record was exemplary. Sell by all means, but only when a replacement with working limbs is available.
On Thursday night, I was lucky enough to view two potential striking options for Spurs in Hulk and Leonardo Damaio whilst attending the Brazil-Egypt Olympic match at the Millennium Stadium. While Hulk is a handful, he does not represent value in the £35 million bracket and lacked the nous one might expect at such a hefty price tag. Damaio, meanwhile, looked highly suited to the English game with his physicality, touch and instinct for goal. Obviously, this was just one match, but on the basis of their respective price tags (Damaio retails at £25 million) and age (Hulk is three years older) then Damaio is a far more savvy target.
With the new season a mere three weeks away, Spurs can’t allow a(nother) genuine striker crisis to limp to a closing transfer window. It remains the most important piece of the puzzle. Yet still we wait for a solution. Is Leon Knight available?
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Ledley Brenton King (Tottenham Hotspur 1999-2012)
Ledley Brenton King was arguably the finest English centre-half of his generation; a remarkable feat given some of his early co-stars in Spurs colours.
Ultimately, only injury could defeat this Rolls Royce of a defender who defied physical logic by not training during the week yet excelling in the heart of the Tottenham defence come matchday.
Over the last few years Tottenham fans have been blessed by a team with swagger and rare steel, in which Ledley played a starring role. But it wasn’t always this way. When the East Londoner from the celebrated Senrab boys club made his pro debut as a left-back in a 2-3 end-of-season reverse at Anfield in May 1999, Spurs were a mid-table outfit at best.
Yet with the emergence of this talented defender from Tottenham’s underperforming youth system, the cockerel once more raised its head with pride.
He was a rare centre-half who could win the ball without clambering over an opponent or grabbing a handful of shirt on the referee’s blindside. As a footballer, King was as clean as he was smooth. He had less bookings than Gary Glitter. Only 10 yellow cards flashed in a 13-year career. Thierry Henry once remarked that Ledley was the only defender who could win the ball off him without fouling.
Who could forget Ledley suddenly shifting through the gears to nick the ball off Arjen Robben’s feet in front of the Park Lane stand? That intervention proved crucial as Spurs broke their Chelsea hoodoo with a 2-1 victory that left Jose Mourinho irritated and bemused in the away dug-out.
King's poor performances were so few that I can virtually name them on one hand. When an opposing defender peeled away into space it was a near cast iron certainty that Ledley would retrieve the ball if in the near vicinity. He brought a rare sense of calm to the traditionally jittery Spurs backline.
When the club qualified for the Champions League with that emotional 1-0 win over Man City at the Etihad Stadium in May 2010, King was a human wall. It was as if the ball was magnetised to his frame.
Only a recurring knee injury could hamper King’s progress and this, and other ailments, limited his Spurs appearances to a relatively modest 323 including 14 goals alongside 21 matches and two goals for the England national side. But what memories he gave us.
Watching the Spurs skipper hobble up the famed Wembley steps to collect the League Cup in 2008 after the magical triumph over Chelsea brought a lump to the throat. I was fighting back the tears. Every Spurs fan knew what he’d been through to arrive at this moment. It was to be Ledley’s only trophy as a Spurs player but the image of him grinning broadly and lifting that cup is etched in our collective conscience.
Injury was to be Ledley King’s only master. But the majesty of his performances will live on in our hearts and minds forever.
Ultimately, only injury could defeat this Rolls Royce of a defender who defied physical logic by not training during the week yet excelling in the heart of the Tottenham defence come matchday.
Over the last few years Tottenham fans have been blessed by a team with swagger and rare steel, in which Ledley played a starring role. But it wasn’t always this way. When the East Londoner from the celebrated Senrab boys club made his pro debut as a left-back in a 2-3 end-of-season reverse at Anfield in May 1999, Spurs were a mid-table outfit at best.
Yet with the emergence of this talented defender from Tottenham’s underperforming youth system, the cockerel once more raised its head with pride.
He was a rare centre-half who could win the ball without clambering over an opponent or grabbing a handful of shirt on the referee’s blindside. As a footballer, King was as clean as he was smooth. He had less bookings than Gary Glitter. Only 10 yellow cards flashed in a 13-year career. Thierry Henry once remarked that Ledley was the only defender who could win the ball off him without fouling.
Who could forget Ledley suddenly shifting through the gears to nick the ball off Arjen Robben’s feet in front of the Park Lane stand? That intervention proved crucial as Spurs broke their Chelsea hoodoo with a 2-1 victory that left Jose Mourinho irritated and bemused in the away dug-out.
King's poor performances were so few that I can virtually name them on one hand. When an opposing defender peeled away into space it was a near cast iron certainty that Ledley would retrieve the ball if in the near vicinity. He brought a rare sense of calm to the traditionally jittery Spurs backline.
When the club qualified for the Champions League with that emotional 1-0 win over Man City at the Etihad Stadium in May 2010, King was a human wall. It was as if the ball was magnetised to his frame.
Only a recurring knee injury could hamper King’s progress and this, and other ailments, limited his Spurs appearances to a relatively modest 323 including 14 goals alongside 21 matches and two goals for the England national side. But what memories he gave us.
Watching the Spurs skipper hobble up the famed Wembley steps to collect the League Cup in 2008 after the magical triumph over Chelsea brought a lump to the throat. I was fighting back the tears. Every Spurs fan knew what he’d been through to arrive at this moment. It was to be Ledley’s only trophy as a Spurs player but the image of him grinning broadly and lifting that cup is etched in our collective conscience.
Injury was to be Ledley King’s only master. But the majesty of his performances will live on in our hearts and minds forever.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Modric ado about nothing
Luka Modric hasn’t signed for Madrid, Man Utd or a modelling contract with Matalan. But every other day the same quote-free, unsubstantiated stories surface and are then repurposed as stone cold fact by an increasingly lazy, feckless media.
On 8th June, The Sun’s Neil Custis wrote with cast-iron certainty that little Luka had signed a four-year deal with Man Utd for a paltry £26m. The cut-price fee only made possible by Sir Alex Ferguson’s two billion unredeemed Nectar points.
Presumably, Mr. Custis had recently returned from a mind-bending peyote session in the Mojave Desert because this highly trumpeted ‘EXCLUSIVE’ bore no truth in the world of the substance-free.
And so it continues. Every few days, coincidently during a slow hour of news, a fresh ‘Modric agrees terms with [insert name of Champions League team}’ piece appears in a puff of smoke like an overworked genie. For around 36 hours that same non-story is shamelessly plagiarised, cut-and-pasted and pumped out as undisputed truth by desperate newshounds. Want to know the Croatian’s price of the day? Simply roll two dice and add the total in millions to £24m and you have the transfer fee. Gospel.
The level of industrial strength BS involved is placed into sharp perspective by Sportwitness.com’s highly recommended ‘Luka Modric Daily’ which adroitly dissects the Modric transfer lie du jour. Late last week, Croatian rag ’24 Sata’ claimed that Modric had agreed terms with Real Madrid. Done deal. This story was seized upon with glee by Europe’s sporting media and, within minutes, tributes to the mercurial midfielder were appearing across the social media from misty-eyed Spurs fans.
Yet the following day, showing more front than Lucy Pinder squeezed into a B Cup bra, ‘24 Sata’ shamelessly reported: ‘…as stated by the international media during Friday, it looks like Modric has agreed personal terms with Real Madrid.' Jaw-dropping.
Seminal rap ensemble Public Enemy once opined: ‘Don’t believe the hype’. Until a club meets Daniel Levy’s inevitably inflated Croatian valuation, I suggest you follow that sage advice. An exquisite talent like Modric’s will undoubtedly be missed, but not before he’s left the building.
On 8th June, The Sun’s Neil Custis wrote with cast-iron certainty that little Luka had signed a four-year deal with Man Utd for a paltry £26m. The cut-price fee only made possible by Sir Alex Ferguson’s two billion unredeemed Nectar points.
Presumably, Mr. Custis had recently returned from a mind-bending peyote session in the Mojave Desert because this highly trumpeted ‘EXCLUSIVE’ bore no truth in the world of the substance-free.
And so it continues. Every few days, coincidently during a slow hour of news, a fresh ‘Modric agrees terms with [insert name of Champions League team}’ piece appears in a puff of smoke like an overworked genie. For around 36 hours that same non-story is shamelessly plagiarised, cut-and-pasted and pumped out as undisputed truth by desperate newshounds. Want to know the Croatian’s price of the day? Simply roll two dice and add the total in millions to £24m and you have the transfer fee. Gospel.
The level of industrial strength BS involved is placed into sharp perspective by Sportwitness.com’s highly recommended ‘Luka Modric Daily’ which adroitly dissects the Modric transfer lie du jour. Late last week, Croatian rag ’24 Sata’ claimed that Modric had agreed terms with Real Madrid. Done deal. This story was seized upon with glee by Europe’s sporting media and, within minutes, tributes to the mercurial midfielder were appearing across the social media from misty-eyed Spurs fans.
Yet the following day, showing more front than Lucy Pinder squeezed into a B Cup bra, ‘24 Sata’ shamelessly reported: ‘…as stated by the international media during Friday, it looks like Modric has agreed personal terms with Real Madrid.' Jaw-dropping.
Seminal rap ensemble Public Enemy once opined: ‘Don’t believe the hype’. Until a club meets Daniel Levy’s inevitably inflated Croatian valuation, I suggest you follow that sage advice. An exquisite talent like Modric’s will undoubtedly be missed, but not before he’s left the building.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
‘How Andre Villas-Boas destroyed Spurs’
The football obituary of Andre Villas-Boas has already been written. Draft copy of his failure is sitting in the laptops of Martin Samuel, Colin Mafham and Harry Redknapp’s pals at The Sun. And now the press wait like coiled cobras, wound-up and venomous, ready to strike.
An affable, rent-a-quote manager is no longer on the end of a journalist’s mobile phone. Instead hacks will have to prise comments from an aloof young coach who at Chelsea responded tetchily in the glare of intense media scrutiny.
Whatever your position on Redknapp’s tenure at Spurs, his carefully-crafted, geezer persona won the club many allies in the media. Tottenham’s failures were often handled with kid gloves in comparison to the ire of the past. The press regard Harry as one of the boys whereas Villas-Boas’ studied approach and cool personality fails to engage. He won’t be buying scribes a round of Sagres anytime soon.
One would hope those Spurs fans who were so agitated by the reign of Redknapp will employ greater patience with Villas-Boas. A glittering career at Porto and progressive coaching methods bode well for a Tottenham side steeped in attacking promise. But the club cannot afford a fifth successive botched transfer window and more senseless deadline day brinkmanship. Daniel Levy authorising the purchase of two new strikers is a prerequisite for another season of Premier League contention.
Star player Gareth Bale’s freshly-penned four-year contract sends a bold message to potential transfer targets and those key players who remain at the club. A new, state-of-the-art training ground with a greater emphasis on emerging talent could mean an immediate integration of Stephen Caulker who thrived at Swansea yet seemed oddly destined for another loan spell under the outgoing Redknapp.
Now all Spurs fans must put aside past petty grievances and unite to back the new regime. And be realistic about our immediate future. A top six place, free-flowing Tottenham football and a serious approach to all cup competitions are par for the upcoming season. Odds are already being taken on Villas-Boas not lasting the campaign. Let’s hope the pre-scripted media obituaries are premature and we end the season AVB positive.
Bem-Vindo ao Spurs, Andre. Não chame os fãs idiotas!
An affable, rent-a-quote manager is no longer on the end of a journalist’s mobile phone. Instead hacks will have to prise comments from an aloof young coach who at Chelsea responded tetchily in the glare of intense media scrutiny.
Whatever your position on Redknapp’s tenure at Spurs, his carefully-crafted, geezer persona won the club many allies in the media. Tottenham’s failures were often handled with kid gloves in comparison to the ire of the past. The press regard Harry as one of the boys whereas Villas-Boas’ studied approach and cool personality fails to engage. He won’t be buying scribes a round of Sagres anytime soon.
One would hope those Spurs fans who were so agitated by the reign of Redknapp will employ greater patience with Villas-Boas. A glittering career at Porto and progressive coaching methods bode well for a Tottenham side steeped in attacking promise. But the club cannot afford a fifth successive botched transfer window and more senseless deadline day brinkmanship. Daniel Levy authorising the purchase of two new strikers is a prerequisite for another season of Premier League contention.
Star player Gareth Bale’s freshly-penned four-year contract sends a bold message to potential transfer targets and those key players who remain at the club. A new, state-of-the-art training ground with a greater emphasis on emerging talent could mean an immediate integration of Stephen Caulker who thrived at Swansea yet seemed oddly destined for another loan spell under the outgoing Redknapp.
Now all Spurs fans must put aside past petty grievances and unite to back the new regime. And be realistic about our immediate future. A top six place, free-flowing Tottenham football and a serious approach to all cup competitions are par for the upcoming season. Odds are already being taken on Villas-Boas not lasting the campaign. Let’s hope the pre-scripted media obituaries are premature and we end the season AVB positive.
Bem-Vindo ao Spurs, Andre. Não chame os fãs idiotas!
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