After his two-goal salvo against Newcastle, Gareth Bale inevitably stole the headlines, but further down the field another hero maintained a silently successful season. Michael Dawson is the antithesis of the modern footballer; you won’t find him stumbling out of a celebrity-endorsed nightspot or mocking opposing supporters, when the opportunity for ludicrous wages presented itself Dawson left his car keys by the door and chose to fight for his place.
The likeable defender’s Spurs career was inexplicably on the rocks in August. Uber-rich QPR had a bid accepted by Daniel Levy (ever the businessman when an over-the-odds offer is received), but unlike many of his peers Dawson turned his back on the money. Professional pride and ambition, and perhaps a love of Spurs, for once trumped the lure of multiple pound signs.
The majority of the Tottenham faithful were delighted by Dawson’s extended stay. There are few defenders better suited to an aerial bombardment against the likes of Stoke or Sunderland and Dawson’s cheerful and ever-gracious demeanour has always endeared him to fans of all ages. He’s also a bloody good defender.
But this season, in the face of intense competition and an initially sceptical new manager, Dawson has risen to the challenge and added new poise to his game. And his persistence has been rewarded. The outcast is now the Spurs captain redux.
In the under-the-radar, three-month run which has seen Tottenham lose only ONE league game (in injury time at Everton), Dawson has been a constant, seizing upon Younes Kaboul’s long-term injury, veteran William Gallas’ nagging fitness concerns and the greenness of emerging hope Steven Caulker. He has been the surprise star of Spurs’ revolving backline.
The stats stack up in Dawson’s favour. Spurs have yet to lose a Premier League game when he has started (7 wins 4 draws) and his record stands at 9-4-1 in the league games where he has featured - with the lone defeat as a sub in the 10-man loss at Arsenal which inexplicably kick-started the lilywhite season. Five goals have been conceded in Dawson’s last eight starts. Who needs a striker?
Dawson’s unheralded contribution illustrates how this over-achieving Spurs team is a sum of its parts. The phenomenal Bale is rightfully receiving plaudits as a world class player, but Aaron Lennon is in the form of his career, Hugo Lloris has been nothing short of cat-like between the sticks and Mousa Dembele has consigned the deft midfield promptings of Luka Modric to memory.
But for fine goalkeeping by Tim Krul and a touch of Bale profligacy, Tottenham’s latest victory would have been far more comfortable. Despite being haemorrhaged of midfielder enforcer Sandro, stalwart Kaboul and depth in the striker department due to Jermain Defoe’s injury and Emmanuel Adebayor’s absenteeism, Spurs have a four point cushion in fourth and are competing against limitless foreign billionaires and teams of more established pedigree.
And at the foundation of this success is the unsung Michael Dawson. The troubles of Loftus Road must seem a world away.
Showing posts with label Michael Dawson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Dawson. Show all posts
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Fulham were ‘hanging out the back of it’
Will the easily offended please look away. Fulham ‘smashed it’ on Sunday and after 90 minutes they were ‘hanging out the back of it’. No doubt, former Sky Sports commentator and ‘werewolf-in-progress’ Richard Keys would approve.
This was a game where a toothless Spurs ran out of luck and lacked the strength in midfield or cutting edge up front to make inroads against an improved Fulham outfit. The long-term absence of Tom Huddlestone and temporary unavailability of Gareth Bale left Spurs’ midfield with an array of midgets who would be better served protecting the confectionery-related interests of William Wonka. The continuing omission of Niko Kranjcar is curious. Is Harry Redknapp (deep intake of breath) displaying ‘tall-ism’?
This cup tie was over as a spectacle within 15 minutes following kamikaze defending by the usually reliable Michael Dawson. Sadly, our likeable captain had an absolute shocker. His sloppy pass played in the paper-ankled Clint Dempsey for the first penalty. Hutton’s challenge merited a spot-kick, but Dempsey’s theatrical tumble made sure.
The hapless Dawson then clearly pulled back Dembele’s shirt in the area (having fortuitously got away with a carbon copy offence against Newcastle last week) and the portly Phil Dowd was so excited the red card literally flew out of his pocket, presumably because his chubby fingers were unable to negotiate such a small space. We wish the blubbery official luck in his continuing battle with obesity. By the ‘letter of the law’, Dowd was correct, but it’s a shame referees regularly fail to spot this infringement when Nemanja Vidic is the perpetrator. He could probably murder and receive a booking.
I had to blink a few times to make sure Gerry Francis wasn’t in charge. Tottenham’s tiny midfield was swamped and a nervy Gomes overwhelmed. The Brazilian’s hesitancy led to an unnecessary corner which the Norwegian behemoth Hangeland converted before Dembele finished superbly as Spurs players backed off in injury time.
There was no Gareth Bale and therefore no rip-roaring comeback. And so one dream is over, but amid the disappointment it’s important to remember a few others remain.
This was a game where a toothless Spurs ran out of luck and lacked the strength in midfield or cutting edge up front to make inroads against an improved Fulham outfit. The long-term absence of Tom Huddlestone and temporary unavailability of Gareth Bale left Spurs’ midfield with an array of midgets who would be better served protecting the confectionery-related interests of William Wonka. The continuing omission of Niko Kranjcar is curious. Is Harry Redknapp (deep intake of breath) displaying ‘tall-ism’?
This cup tie was over as a spectacle within 15 minutes following kamikaze defending by the usually reliable Michael Dawson. Sadly, our likeable captain had an absolute shocker. His sloppy pass played in the paper-ankled Clint Dempsey for the first penalty. Hutton’s challenge merited a spot-kick, but Dempsey’s theatrical tumble made sure.
The hapless Dawson then clearly pulled back Dembele’s shirt in the area (having fortuitously got away with a carbon copy offence against Newcastle last week) and the portly Phil Dowd was so excited the red card literally flew out of his pocket, presumably because his chubby fingers were unable to negotiate such a small space. We wish the blubbery official luck in his continuing battle with obesity. By the ‘letter of the law’, Dowd was correct, but it’s a shame referees regularly fail to spot this infringement when Nemanja Vidic is the perpetrator. He could probably murder and receive a booking.
I had to blink a few times to make sure Gerry Francis wasn’t in charge. Tottenham’s tiny midfield was swamped and a nervy Gomes overwhelmed. The Brazilian’s hesitancy led to an unnecessary corner which the Norwegian behemoth Hangeland converted before Dembele finished superbly as Spurs players backed off in injury time.
There was no Gareth Bale and therefore no rip-roaring comeback. And so one dream is over, but amid the disappointment it’s important to remember a few others remain.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Rooney ‘blanked’ in Tottenham
The grandfathers of the nation’s capital breathed a collective sigh of relief on Sunday night as Wayne Rooney left London.
“We don’t like him and his sort,” croaked local pensioner Alfie Cornwallet, 77. “We call ‘em ‘silver surfers’. They nick our best birds because they have a bit of cash and a working immune system. The bastards even join SAGA and turn up on senior coach holidays wearing grey wigs and Brut aftershave. It ain’t right.”
Rooney’s lack of success on and off the pitch led to a petulant yellow card and bout of foot-stomping as mop-headed Brazilian Rafael saw red for the type of desperate lunge you used to associate with Ritzy’s nightclub at chucking out time. He should have been dismissed earlier for attempting to mount Wilson Palacios without the offer of dinner and a movie.
Spurs were marginally the better team, but the United defence, expertly marshalled by Nemanja Vidic and Rio Ferdinand, stood firm in the face of persistent pressure rather than clearcut chances. Veteran William Gallas was again majestic alongside skipper Michael Dawson in what looks like our preferred partnership at the back. Since Dawson’s return from serious injury, we’ve seen more clean sheets than a Persil ad. It feels good for those of us who remember the human sieve Stuart Nethercott.
Luka Modric, as always, was the sublime prompter and passer (he is the heartbeat which makes Spurs tick) whereas Aaron Lennon showed encouraging spark on the right flank, but Tottenham lacked the slice of fortune or brilliance that would have claimed an overdue three points against the league leaders and title favourites.
There were no Manchester United penalties, offside/rule-breaking goals, Tottenham red cards or unnoticed Spurs shots over the line. Howard Webb and Mark Clattenburg were tonight unavailable for comment.
“We don’t like him and his sort,” croaked local pensioner Alfie Cornwallet, 77. “We call ‘em ‘silver surfers’. They nick our best birds because they have a bit of cash and a working immune system. The bastards even join SAGA and turn up on senior coach holidays wearing grey wigs and Brut aftershave. It ain’t right.”
Rooney’s lack of success on and off the pitch led to a petulant yellow card and bout of foot-stomping as mop-headed Brazilian Rafael saw red for the type of desperate lunge you used to associate with Ritzy’s nightclub at chucking out time. He should have been dismissed earlier for attempting to mount Wilson Palacios without the offer of dinner and a movie.
Spurs were marginally the better team, but the United defence, expertly marshalled by Nemanja Vidic and Rio Ferdinand, stood firm in the face of persistent pressure rather than clearcut chances. Veteran William Gallas was again majestic alongside skipper Michael Dawson in what looks like our preferred partnership at the back. Since Dawson’s return from serious injury, we’ve seen more clean sheets than a Persil ad. It feels good for those of us who remember the human sieve Stuart Nethercott.
Luka Modric, as always, was the sublime prompter and passer (he is the heartbeat which makes Spurs tick) whereas Aaron Lennon showed encouraging spark on the right flank, but Tottenham lacked the slice of fortune or brilliance that would have claimed an overdue three points against the league leaders and title favourites.
There were no Manchester United penalties, offside/rule-breaking goals, Tottenham red cards or unnoticed Spurs shots over the line. Howard Webb and Mark Clattenburg were tonight unavailable for comment.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Angry scenes mar Fulham game
Tottenham’s 11th match unbeaten was marred by trouble in the away end.
A member of the Fulham firm, who is also a regular poster on Mums.net, explained. “Tensions were high. Those seats at the front didn’t have cushions or drink holders. The wheels of two Bugaboo prams got locked on the concourse and then all hell broke lose. Even the babies were arguing in their own high-pitched language. St. John’s Ambulance had to tend to one Cottager who was struck down by a flying dummy.
“The refreshment facilities were a disgrace. We asked for Patatas Bravas and they said he wasn’t working today. Many of us decided to boycott the match and return to Putney in protest. Unfortunately, it took us two hours to find a black cab, let alone hail one.”
Spurs' performance lacked the sparkle of previous games, but like all good teams they got the job done despite a bright display from the visiting side. The returning William Gallas slotted in seamlessly at the back and won the free-kick which goal machine Gareth Bale converted with an adroit header.
The rock-like Michael Dawson showed admirable composure with a crucial goal-line clearance when Fulham seemed destined to equalise while Luka Modric excelled once more in the middle of the park. Often Modric is surrounded by a forest of three or four players, but somehow he always skips through them and finds a Spurs player in a dangerous position.
The transfer window is now open and a desperate Robbie Keane is stuck in the frame, halfway in, halfway out. This game illustrated yet again Spurs' need for a top class replacement. Matters will improve when Jermain Defoe returns from suspension, but the sky is the limit if we can conjure up a Benzema, Suarez or Fabiano in January. Over to you, Mr. Levy.
A member of the Fulham firm, who is also a regular poster on Mums.net, explained. “Tensions were high. Those seats at the front didn’t have cushions or drink holders. The wheels of two Bugaboo prams got locked on the concourse and then all hell broke lose. Even the babies were arguing in their own high-pitched language. St. John’s Ambulance had to tend to one Cottager who was struck down by a flying dummy.
“The refreshment facilities were a disgrace. We asked for Patatas Bravas and they said he wasn’t working today. Many of us decided to boycott the match and return to Putney in protest. Unfortunately, it took us two hours to find a black cab, let alone hail one.”
Spurs' performance lacked the sparkle of previous games, but like all good teams they got the job done despite a bright display from the visiting side. The returning William Gallas slotted in seamlessly at the back and won the free-kick which goal machine Gareth Bale converted with an adroit header.
The rock-like Michael Dawson showed admirable composure with a crucial goal-line clearance when Fulham seemed destined to equalise while Luka Modric excelled once more in the middle of the park. Often Modric is surrounded by a forest of three or four players, but somehow he always skips through them and finds a Spurs player in a dangerous position.
The transfer window is now open and a desperate Robbie Keane is stuck in the frame, halfway in, halfway out. This game illustrated yet again Spurs' need for a top class replacement. Matters will improve when Jermain Defoe returns from suspension, but the sky is the limit if we can conjure up a Benzema, Suarez or Fabiano in January. Over to you, Mr. Levy.
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