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?
Friday, July 27, 2012
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!
Friday, June 15, 2012
New Spurs manager to be decided by ITV4 reality show
EXCLUSIVE: The new Spurs manager’s position will be decided via an ITV4 reality show. Every week in the boardroom, Chairman Daniel Levy will sit on a high-legged chair (with a booster cushion) and eliminate one potential candidate from the managerial race. Here we meet the contestants and analyse their prospects.
David Moyes 5/4 - Mad eyes. Looks like Gollum before he found that ring by the riverbank. A trained hairdresser, Moyes styles Marouane Fellaini’s afro on match days and would have little problem accommodating the wild barnet of Benoit Assou-Ekotto. Everton Chairman and theatre impresario Bill Kenwright currently gives Moyes 60% off West End tickets, a price Daniel Levy may be reluctant to match.
Roberto Martinez 2-1 - Will save Spurs from relegation in May with a 1-3 win at the Emirates Stadium, courtesy of a stunning Yakubu hat-trick. Will lead Spurs to the brink of relegation in the preceding months.
Andre Villas-Boas 3-1 - The Villas-Boas appointment is ruined by a bizarre bodyswap scenario involving John ‘JT’ Terry and Michael ‘Daws’ Dawson. The fake Dawson immediately leads a player revolt against the incoming Portugeezer and causes a furore when seeking to locate Sylvie Van Der Vaart’s ‘Private Box’.
Ralf Rangnick 8-1 - An anagram of Ralf’s name is ‘Who the f**k are you?’ Will undoubtedly get the job and be replaced by caretaker Alan Curbishley in January. Curbishley’s role will include cleaning the Paxton End toilets on match days and recovering the ‘wandering loo seat’.
Fabio Capello 10-1 - Fluent Italian speaker. Will understand parts of the ‘My name is Nicola Berti’ song. Still in London having failed to find an Italian speaking taxi driver to take him to the airport. Additional pasta dishes will be added to the training ground canteen menu much to the delight of Tom Huddlestone who subsequently loses 43lbs in body weight through eating a dodgy lasagne.
David Pleat 69-1 - Farah slack wearer, teddy boy haircut sporter, car seat contortionist. Tried and trusted like a pair of hush puppies you don’t want to throw out, Pleaty will immediately move Ledley King to a central midfield position via a Stannah conveyer belt. Introduces a 4-3-3 system. Soundbites include: “Scotty Parker is relishing his position in the threesome.”
Gilberto 200-1 - Spurs’ former Brazilian international is a shock choice as player-manager. Gilberto’s first act as boss is to drop himself.
David Moyes 5/4 - Mad eyes. Looks like Gollum before he found that ring by the riverbank. A trained hairdresser, Moyes styles Marouane Fellaini’s afro on match days and would have little problem accommodating the wild barnet of Benoit Assou-Ekotto. Everton Chairman and theatre impresario Bill Kenwright currently gives Moyes 60% off West End tickets, a price Daniel Levy may be reluctant to match.
Roberto Martinez 2-1 - Will save Spurs from relegation in May with a 1-3 win at the Emirates Stadium, courtesy of a stunning Yakubu hat-trick. Will lead Spurs to the brink of relegation in the preceding months.
Andre Villas-Boas 3-1 - The Villas-Boas appointment is ruined by a bizarre bodyswap scenario involving John ‘JT’ Terry and Michael ‘Daws’ Dawson. The fake Dawson immediately leads a player revolt against the incoming Portugeezer and causes a furore when seeking to locate Sylvie Van Der Vaart’s ‘Private Box’.
Ralf Rangnick 8-1 - An anagram of Ralf’s name is ‘Who the f**k are you?’ Will undoubtedly get the job and be replaced by caretaker Alan Curbishley in January. Curbishley’s role will include cleaning the Paxton End toilets on match days and recovering the ‘wandering loo seat’.
Fabio Capello 10-1 - Fluent Italian speaker. Will understand parts of the ‘My name is Nicola Berti’ song. Still in London having failed to find an Italian speaking taxi driver to take him to the airport. Additional pasta dishes will be added to the training ground canteen menu much to the delight of Tom Huddlestone who subsequently loses 43lbs in body weight through eating a dodgy lasagne.
David Pleat 69-1 - Farah slack wearer, teddy boy haircut sporter, car seat contortionist. Tried and trusted like a pair of hush puppies you don’t want to throw out, Pleaty will immediately move Ledley King to a central midfield position via a Stannah conveyer belt. Introduces a 4-3-3 system. Soundbites include: “Scotty Parker is relishing his position in the threesome.”
Gilberto 200-1 - Spurs’ former Brazilian international is a shock choice as player-manager. Gilberto’s first act as boss is to drop himself.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Harry out! Moyes out!
Within moments of the last rites being uttered over Harry Redknapp’s increasingly divisive managerial reign, his potential replacements were being castigated. David Moyes doesn’t play the Tottenham brand of football, Andre Villas-Boas is a failed Mourinho lite, Roberto Martinez is greener than Kermit the Frog. Welcome to Tottenham. The new manager hasn’t got a chance.
Ever since I’ve followed Spurs, from Bolton to the Bosphorus, fans have desperately sought a change of manager. Redknapp out, Ramos out, Jol out, Santini out, Pleat out, Hoddle out, Graham out, Gross out, Francis out, Ardiles out…I’ve heard them all. The managerial door revolves only to spit out the latest saviour. Has a lack of continuity been the real reason for Spurs’ limited success over the years?
In the modern culture, Keith Burkinshaw would have been slaughtered in 1982 for ‘throwing away’ the league title (Spurs finished fourth after a gigantic fixture pile-up), European Cup Winners Cup (unsuccessful semi-finalists) and League Cup (defeated finalists in extra time). No doubt Bill Nicholson’s inability to win a second title with the most gifted team of a generation would have set the Talksport phone lines alight.
Harry is gone. And I must confess to mixed feelings. I have great appreciation for what he achieved at Tottenham. Harry was the caretaker manager who overachieved; he reanimated a dire Juande Ramos team and saved the club from certain relegation. Redknapp delivered us Champions League football and broke Sky’s ‘Big Four’ cartel. We beat the reigning European champions, won at the San Siro, defeated Arsenal three times in breathless affairs and found ourselves respected rather than ridiculed as was largely the case from 1992 to 2006.
But Redknapp the manager and Redknapp the personality should not be confused. The former delivered fourth, fifth and fourth place in successive seasons – a feat unmatched by any Tottenham manager in recent history. The latter didn’t know when to keep his own counsel. If a man ever required his own personal ‘mute button’ it’s Harry.
Talking openly about contract negotiations when the mother of your Chairman has just passed away is either ill-timed or tasteless. Stating that the players would be distracted by his own contract situation a mere eight weeks after claiming they were unaffected by the unrelenting ‘Redknapp for England’ speculation was either astonishing front or infuriating hypocrisy.
Levy hired and stood by Harry with the HMRC’s court case hanging over him, but as soon as England were ‘interested’ Redknapp was distracted like a golddigger who spots a potentially wealthier suitor in the corner of her eye. A new deal was on the table for Harry in February. He chose not to take it. Loyalty swings both ways.
Offering a 65-year-old man a lucrative three-year contract after Spurs' late season slump was never on Levy’s agenda. Harry had already burned his bridges by this point. But it’s a big call by the Chairman. And, despite reservations about Redknapp’s recent conduct, I am not convinced it’s the right one.
On the pitch, Redknapp largely delivered and elevated the club’s status from also-rans to contenders. For years, Spurs struggled to break into the top eight and yet the two managers who broke this slump, Jol and Redknapp, were sacked by one man following top five finishes. Should Levy, again, fail to back the new manager in the transfer market then his own position should fall under scrutiny.
With Manchester City and Chelsea on a different financial playing field and Manchester United operating at a consistently unreachable level, fourth was arguably the glass ceiling of Tottenham’s ambition. Redknapp’s recent fourth place finish is something the new manager will struggle to emulate. The knives are already being drawn by Harry’s friends in the press. The days of favourable Spurs media coverage have drawn to a close. Expect a far rougher ride when the results fail to go our way.
If David Moyes leads Spurs to a creditable sixth place finish next season the usual suspects will want him out. Some fans will hate him, others subject him to personal ridicule. He’s Scottish, he’s a ginger, those bulbous eyes are swelling and poised to pop out of his head. Within two years, Moyes will be blowing his compensation money just like the others and his critics will look forward to another new manager.
As we know, the next relationship will always be better.
Ever since I’ve followed Spurs, from Bolton to the Bosphorus, fans have desperately sought a change of manager. Redknapp out, Ramos out, Jol out, Santini out, Pleat out, Hoddle out, Graham out, Gross out, Francis out, Ardiles out…I’ve heard them all. The managerial door revolves only to spit out the latest saviour. Has a lack of continuity been the real reason for Spurs’ limited success over the years?
In the modern culture, Keith Burkinshaw would have been slaughtered in 1982 for ‘throwing away’ the league title (Spurs finished fourth after a gigantic fixture pile-up), European Cup Winners Cup (unsuccessful semi-finalists) and League Cup (defeated finalists in extra time). No doubt Bill Nicholson’s inability to win a second title with the most gifted team of a generation would have set the Talksport phone lines alight.
Harry is gone. And I must confess to mixed feelings. I have great appreciation for what he achieved at Tottenham. Harry was the caretaker manager who overachieved; he reanimated a dire Juande Ramos team and saved the club from certain relegation. Redknapp delivered us Champions League football and broke Sky’s ‘Big Four’ cartel. We beat the reigning European champions, won at the San Siro, defeated Arsenal three times in breathless affairs and found ourselves respected rather than ridiculed as was largely the case from 1992 to 2006.
But Redknapp the manager and Redknapp the personality should not be confused. The former delivered fourth, fifth and fourth place in successive seasons – a feat unmatched by any Tottenham manager in recent history. The latter didn’t know when to keep his own counsel. If a man ever required his own personal ‘mute button’ it’s Harry.
Talking openly about contract negotiations when the mother of your Chairman has just passed away is either ill-timed or tasteless. Stating that the players would be distracted by his own contract situation a mere eight weeks after claiming they were unaffected by the unrelenting ‘Redknapp for England’ speculation was either astonishing front or infuriating hypocrisy.
Levy hired and stood by Harry with the HMRC’s court case hanging over him, but as soon as England were ‘interested’ Redknapp was distracted like a golddigger who spots a potentially wealthier suitor in the corner of her eye. A new deal was on the table for Harry in February. He chose not to take it. Loyalty swings both ways.
Offering a 65-year-old man a lucrative three-year contract after Spurs' late season slump was never on Levy’s agenda. Harry had already burned his bridges by this point. But it’s a big call by the Chairman. And, despite reservations about Redknapp’s recent conduct, I am not convinced it’s the right one.
On the pitch, Redknapp largely delivered and elevated the club’s status from also-rans to contenders. For years, Spurs struggled to break into the top eight and yet the two managers who broke this slump, Jol and Redknapp, were sacked by one man following top five finishes. Should Levy, again, fail to back the new manager in the transfer market then his own position should fall under scrutiny.
With Manchester City and Chelsea on a different financial playing field and Manchester United operating at a consistently unreachable level, fourth was arguably the glass ceiling of Tottenham’s ambition. Redknapp’s recent fourth place finish is something the new manager will struggle to emulate. The knives are already being drawn by Harry’s friends in the press. The days of favourable Spurs media coverage have drawn to a close. Expect a far rougher ride when the results fail to go our way.
If David Moyes leads Spurs to a creditable sixth place finish next season the usual suspects will want him out. Some fans will hate him, others subject him to personal ridicule. He’s Scottish, he’s a ginger, those bulbous eyes are swelling and poised to pop out of his head. Within two years, Moyes will be blowing his compensation money just like the others and his critics will look forward to another new manager.
As we know, the next relationship will always be better.
Friday, June 8, 2012
The curious devaluation of Luka Modric
In case you missed it, Luka Modric is part of an ongoing auction on Madbid.com. The lowest unique bid will secure you the services of the Croatian international midfielder for football or possibly cleaning and maintenance purposes.
The current winning bid has supposedly come from Salford pensioner Sir Alex Ferguson, according to that oracle of truth ‘The Sun’ newspaper. It’s a done deal. Negotiations were quick and painless as they always are with any transfer involving Spurs Chairman Daniel Levy.
A nose bleed high £40m offer from Chelsea was knocked back by Levy last summer, but he is apparently happy to take £15m less a year later. Modric has dropped in value by a whopping 37.5% and is now available in a ‘Buy one get one free offer’ alongside Tom ‘Superfly’ Huddlestone. United are throwing in two crates of Ms Coleen Rooney’s delightful fragrance ‘Butterflies’ to sweeten the deal and these will be used to scent the Paxton End toilets on matchdays.
The ‘facts’ fail to add up. United don’t actually need a new central midfielder having signed arguably a better one in Dortmund star Shinji Kagawa (he actually scores goals). But it’s hard to doubt a story with no original quotes or in-depth information when the word EXCLUSIVE precedes it in eye-catching capitals.
If you were taken in by the above Sun story, I suggest you steer clear of Nigerian princes (at least until Yakubu has signed on August 31st). Yet people still fall helplessly into the same old trap. Click the story, buy the paper. Robert Maxwell (Google him if you are under 30 but think ‘fat Rupert Murdoch’) once told my dad, “It’s just entertainment”. I was still a fresh-faced kid in those days and not yet working in the media but my old man had several connections in the national press and an involvement with the Sugar/Venables takeover of Spurs in the early 1990s.
He was therefore dumbfounded when he read a story by a journalist he knew very well stating that Tottenham were interested in signing flat-footed striker Kerry Dixon (under 30s think a slovenly Kevin Davies without goals or elbows). “That’s just not true,” said my Dad. The journalist replied: “Oh, I know. I’m just doing a favour for his agent.” Soon afterwards, the old man was surprised and amused to find a speculative conversation he’d had with the same hack regarding potential Spurs transfer targets was later an ‘exclusive’ in the same popular daily paper.
I was (un)fortunate to later forge (an all too appropriate word) a career as a journalist and swiftly learned that often what we read and absorb is intentionally fabricated or the product of fanciful/drunken minds. Other journalists choose to dig deeper than the bowl of peanuts waiting on the top of the bar. Read carefully and you will learn who they are.
My ‘insider’ advice is don’t allow yourself to be too irritated by hearsay dressed up shoddily as journalism. If a story has no quotes from an original source, coherent, detailed information or a byline (distrust the ubiquitous ‘By Sportsmail Reporter’) then it’s probably best disregarded, fish and chip paper.
So what is Modric worth? Gifted player, Spurs midfield conductor, looks like the lead singer from Journey. But does he truly affect games, in a ‘world class’ manner befitting such a hefty price tag?
It can easily be argued that 15 neat Modric passes mean little in comparison to one deflected yet game-changing Frank Lampard goal. Luka has all the tools to be a top player, yet the goals, those signatures of brilliance, remain oddly absent.
Arguably, £25 million is a fair fee, just don’t tell those chancers at Madbid.com. Rest assured, master salesman Levy will take Modric’s eventual purchasers to the absolute cleaners.
The current winning bid has supposedly come from Salford pensioner Sir Alex Ferguson, according to that oracle of truth ‘The Sun’ newspaper. It’s a done deal. Negotiations were quick and painless as they always are with any transfer involving Spurs Chairman Daniel Levy.
A nose bleed high £40m offer from Chelsea was knocked back by Levy last summer, but he is apparently happy to take £15m less a year later. Modric has dropped in value by a whopping 37.5% and is now available in a ‘Buy one get one free offer’ alongside Tom ‘Superfly’ Huddlestone. United are throwing in two crates of Ms Coleen Rooney’s delightful fragrance ‘Butterflies’ to sweeten the deal and these will be used to scent the Paxton End toilets on matchdays.
The ‘facts’ fail to add up. United don’t actually need a new central midfielder having signed arguably a better one in Dortmund star Shinji Kagawa (he actually scores goals). But it’s hard to doubt a story with no original quotes or in-depth information when the word EXCLUSIVE precedes it in eye-catching capitals.
If you were taken in by the above Sun story, I suggest you steer clear of Nigerian princes (at least until Yakubu has signed on August 31st). Yet people still fall helplessly into the same old trap. Click the story, buy the paper. Robert Maxwell (Google him if you are under 30 but think ‘fat Rupert Murdoch’) once told my dad, “It’s just entertainment”. I was still a fresh-faced kid in those days and not yet working in the media but my old man had several connections in the national press and an involvement with the Sugar/Venables takeover of Spurs in the early 1990s.
He was therefore dumbfounded when he read a story by a journalist he knew very well stating that Tottenham were interested in signing flat-footed striker Kerry Dixon (under 30s think a slovenly Kevin Davies without goals or elbows). “That’s just not true,” said my Dad. The journalist replied: “Oh, I know. I’m just doing a favour for his agent.” Soon afterwards, the old man was surprised and amused to find a speculative conversation he’d had with the same hack regarding potential Spurs transfer targets was later an ‘exclusive’ in the same popular daily paper.
I was (un)fortunate to later forge (an all too appropriate word) a career as a journalist and swiftly learned that often what we read and absorb is intentionally fabricated or the product of fanciful/drunken minds. Other journalists choose to dig deeper than the bowl of peanuts waiting on the top of the bar. Read carefully and you will learn who they are.
My ‘insider’ advice is don’t allow yourself to be too irritated by hearsay dressed up shoddily as journalism. If a story has no quotes from an original source, coherent, detailed information or a byline (distrust the ubiquitous ‘By Sportsmail Reporter’) then it’s probably best disregarded, fish and chip paper.
So what is Modric worth? Gifted player, Spurs midfield conductor, looks like the lead singer from Journey. But does he truly affect games, in a ‘world class’ manner befitting such a hefty price tag?
It can easily be argued that 15 neat Modric passes mean little in comparison to one deflected yet game-changing Frank Lampard goal. Luka has all the tools to be a top player, yet the goals, those signatures of brilliance, remain oddly absent.
Arguably, £25 million is a fair fee, just don’t tell those chancers at Madbid.com. Rest assured, master salesman Levy will take Modric’s eventual purchasers to the absolute cleaners.
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