Dimitar Berbatov – Marmite in a football kit

There’s been lots of talk about the ‘vulgar Bulgar’ being shut out at Old Trafford.

This has naturally been followed by plenty of infant school level sporting journalistic maths.

‘Former Spurs striker leaving club’ + ‘Spurs need a striker’ = ‘Berbatov back to Spurs’

Talk of this seems to have caused divisions within the Spurs fan base wider than gap in class between Barcelona and the rest of the world at the moment.

Plenty of fans are calling for the return of the last Spurs striker to score 20 plus goals in consecutive seasons since Mark Falco in the mid-eighties.

Even more are expressing their disgust at the idea of Dimi donning the famous shirt once more.  Most cite the manner of his departure, feeling his poor attitude once his head was turned forced Spurs into a sale they didn’t want to make.  His lacklustre display as a sub against Middlesborough, showing a complete lack of interest in playing for the club left us a paltry £20 million profit with no time to splash the cash.  On a positive we were given Fraizer Campbell to get frustrated with for a season as he managed to look every bit the part a Championship player out of his depth.

Why would United want rid of him anyway?  Hasn’t he just finished as Premier League top scorer?   Yes, just checked.  He has. 20 goals, level with Tevez.  21 goals from 32 starts in all competitions. His only failing really is drawing a blank in six Champions league ties.

It appears he is dropping out in favour of Javier Hernandez, who has made a great impact this season.  20 goals from 27 starts (albeit plus 18 further appearances off the bench) is a great return in a debut season.

The one-man charm offensive that is Wayne Rooney weighed in with 16 in 36 starts (plus 4 from bench).  The oafish lad appears untouchable at club and country level, and will get selected regardless of form. 

So, Berbatov, Rooney and Hernandez – three strikers with goals and a long season ahead.  Plenty of room for three front line strikers you would think?  So what makes everyone think Berba is heading for the exit door?   

Michael Owen (you remember him – scored that goal v Argentina in the World Cup in 1998) has been handed another contract by United.

Sir Alex has surely only approved that if he sees Owen as having recovered to fitness and form enough to be laying claims to a decent number of starts next season.  He has to be on a decent wage, and whilst not setting anything alight last season, plans have to be afoot to see more of him next season.

This leaves our little jar of yeast extract out in the cold somewhat.  Rooney will get picked week in week out even if he doesn’t score ever again, and Chiquarito is proving to be one of the best buys of recent seasons.

So, for the sort of numbers being touted - £7.5m to £10m mentioned so far – would we be interested in a return of our former favourite? 

For me, it’s a definite yes.  His goalscoring ability and experience outstrip anything we have got, and at the transfer fees suggested we’d struggle to get better value for money.

23 goals a season twice running is not to be sniffed at.  Yes, his attitude wasn’t good enough once it looked likely a move was on the cards, but haven’t we all gone off the boil once we’ve handed our notice in at work?

You never know, he might even re-ignite Keano’s career.  So for £10m we could get two 30 year old strikers that know each other well, and work together very well.  Keane/Berbatov – spurs best strike partnership since Sheringham/Klinsmann? 

I for one would welcome him back with open arms, and be first in the queue getting  ‘Berbatov  9’ put on next season’s home shirt.

I'll have a bit more of this please

So, love him or hate him there will probably be talk about Dimitar until the end of August.   It’s going to be a long transfer window

COYS

Chunky

P.S.

I’m going to save this blog in a safe place so I can get it back out again in about three years time when there’s talk of Luka Modric leaving Man U, and we’re linked another resigning.   It’ll only need a couple of changes.

1992-1993 all over again

On Wednesday evening we do battle with the old enemy yet again.

This time we are looking to achieve that treasured rarity: a league double against Arsenal.

In recent years a single league win has been hard enough to come by.  Just over a year ago, we entered the final push for our Champions League place, and in doing so beat Arsenal 2-1 at The Lane.  That win was our first since a victory by the same scoreline in 1999.

That was over 10 years waiting.   10 long, long years.  Since last spring’s glorious victory we’ve proven ourselves even cheekier, having to audacity to go to their patch and beat them. 

The last time we did that was the last time we completed a league double over them.  

The season – 1992/93

Back then it was Highbury not the Emirates.  We’d beaten them 1-0 at home a couple of weeks before Christmas, a Paul Allen first half goal doing the damage.  The return match, played out in front of under 27,000 people saw us take a 3-1 win on the last day of the season.  The victory ensured we finished above Arsenal that season (a heady 8^th to their 10^th)

We took a 2 goal lead through Teddy Sheringham and John Hendry (you remember him, yes you do), before Paul Dickov pulled one back for the home side.  Hendry fired our third to seal it late in the second half (you do remember him now, don’t you?  John.  Hendry.  Scored a couple against Arsenal.  Scottish geezer.  That’s the fella)

Line-ups that day:

Arsenal – Miller, Lyderson (McGowan), Keown, Marshall, O’Leary, Bould, Flatts (Carter), Selley, Smith, Dickov, Heaney.

Tottenham – Walker, McDonald, Van den Hauwe, Hill, Mabbutt, Ruddock, Sedgley, Hendry (Hodges), Anderton, Sheringham, Allen

So, Wednesday, we’re looking for three in a row.  Can we do it?  Of course we can.

This can be a catalyst to kick start this season push for 4^th and the glory of the Champions League (I still have that music in my ears).  A second league win this season against Arsenal would give a dramatic confidence boost to our boys, who will hopefully despatch the remaining visitors to the Lane with ease (West Brom, Blackpool, Birmingham)  and take 5 or 6 points from our travels (Chelsea, Man City, Liverpool).

We got further than Arsenal in the Champions League this season; let’s make sure we get there again so we can go further than them next season.

COYS

Chunky

24 hours later, 1 week to go

24 hours later and all is calm.... ish.

It would seem our debut Champions League season has run it’s course.  One more ‘Glory, Glory’ night at the lane, playing for pride if nothing else and then that’s it.  All over.   Goodnight Vienna.  Or maybe Rapid Vienna in next seasons Europa league, which looking at our league form is all we can really hope for.

So, we were beaten in the end by Jose Mourinho’s Real Madrid.  We swept to the top of our group in cavalier fashion.  We showed maturity and control to despatch AC Milan in the San Siro, and close them out at the Lane.

We were meant to do the same to Real weren’t we?  Go for a kick about in their back yard, nick a cheeky goal on the break and then teach them what us Spurs boys are all about back at home. 

Oh well, the best laid plans……

4 mins in and Emmanuel Adebayor of all people is sticking a header past Gomes and through the legs of the shortest man on the pitch Luka Modric.  Never mind, early blow, but we’ve had enough of those in the CL this season.

8 mins and Crouchinho is getting flashed a yellow for going horizontal on Sergio Ramos.  Strange challenge, that high up the pitch.

15 mins and he’s at it again.  This time on Marcelo.  Second yellow and he’s off.  Out of character yes, but still doesn’t stop it being totally foolish and ultimately costing us a decent shout at getting through to the semi-final.

After that it’s a little academical.  We held out bravely til half time, Bale and VdV even managing to forge a few chances.

The late switch of Jenas for a sick Lennon left the midfield unbalanced.  Jenas was never going to hug the touchline like Azza would have done and push Marcelo back.  Consequently a slightly sluggish looking Corluka was constantly being attached by Ronaldo and Marcelo.  

This and the lack of an ‘out ball’ to relieve the pressure (I’m looking at you here Pete) left it inevitable we’d crack and ship more goals. 

By 90 minutes we’ve lost 4-0.  Maybe flattering on Real. Maybe not.  Who knows what would have happened if we’d had 11 men for more than 15 minutes.   I’d like to think we’d have come away 2-1 or 3-1, giving ourselves a good chance of turning it round at home next Wednesday. 

And so to next Wednesday.  Surely the pressure is off.  We were never meant to get through the group stages anyway.  We’ve got as much chance of winning as I have of getting into the next England squad (for info I’m 31, and not called Chunky ironically). 

So let’s get out there and play freely.  Let’s see what happens.  Whatever happens, two things are certain. 

1) We must get behind whatever XI is put out to do the job, even if we do end up playing Sandro at right back because we have nobody else.  We must make the Lane a uncomfortable place for Real to come and play.  Who knows?  Early goal, quick red card in their direction and suddenly the heat is on Madrid.  36,000 Spurs faithful cheering the ball past Casillas a couple more times and you never know.  Make it another great European night at the lane.

2) Crouchy won’t be able to cock it all up for us again.  But it’s ok, we have Pavlyuchenko for that. 

COYS

Chunky

Do you remember the first time?

Everyone remembers the first time they saw their team live, right?

I do.  Just about.   I went with a friend and his Dad to see Spurs v Aston Villa at Villa Park. They were both Villa fans, as were most of my friends by now, so we sat in with the Villa crowd.  Well, I say sat, but back then, behind the goal it was actually standing.  Consequently, as I was only 11 years old at the time, I missed most of the match.

It was March 16^th 1991.  20 years ago.  Writing this it’s hard to believe it was 20 years ago.  I’m not old enough to have 20 year old memories. 

I have four clear memories of the match.

1) We went 3-0 down in the first half to a David Platt hat-trick.  The home fans were going crazy as they took an insurmountable lead fired in by their hero.  They even managed to stop singing ‘Ooh, aah Paul McGrath, say ooh, ahh, Paul McGrath’ long enough to celebrate.

2) I heard my first bit of football fans baiting an opposition player.  The Holte End all shouting ‘She fell over, she fell over’ as Gary Mabbutt bent down to tie his bootlaces.  Bless ‘em, what erudite and witty banter those midlanders are capable of.

3) We got a goal back through Paul Stewart.  Which is a shame, ‘cos checking my facts on the internet I see it was actually Vinny Samways.  Oh well, it was one of them.  I’ll remember it a Stewart, historical can record it as Samways.

4) We got a second back through Paul Allen. 

I remember being disappointed not to see Gary Lineker score, but did have the twin honours of seeing Ian Hendon’s debut, coming on as sub, and getting Gordon Cowans’ autograph before the game.  Better get that on eBay. Be worth a fortune.

Our line-up that day

Thorstvedt, Edinburgh, Van Den Hauwe, Sedgley, Thomas, Mabbutt, Stewart, Samways, Moncur, Lineker, Allen.  Subs Gray, Hendon

How times have changed in the Premier League.  In fact, back then it was the First Division.   9 out of the starting 11 were English, with a Norwegian and a Welsh Belgian (Weird eh?) completing the group.

Spurs were the fourth best London side that season, finishing behind Crystal Palace and Wimbledon.   Arsenal bore the rest of the league into submission, holding us to two goalless draws in the league, conceding only 18 goals and losing once during their march to the title.

We got the better of them during that awe-inspiring FA Cup Semi-final.  Gazza and two goals from Mr ‘no yellow card in my career’ Lineker saw us spectacularly through to that ‘year ending in a 1’ Wembley final.

Aside from the FA Cup matches, we won only one more match that season, Lineker notching 2 more in a 2-0 win v Southampton in April, in what was to be only our second league win of 1991.

I can’t remember much else about my first match, other than being disappointed that we didn’t drag ourselves back into it for a 3-3 draw.

My mate and his Dad took me to the corresponding fixture the following season.   Of that I have no memories at all.  It ended 0-0 and must have been a truly dull affair.  Which, knowing my memory probably means it was the most exciting 0-0 in history, probably involving 8 red cards and a cameo from Ossie Ardiles in goal.

Did anyone else's Spurs live experiences start off on enemy territory?   Did anyone have surely hideous experience of seeing the boys from the Lane in action for the first time at Highbury? 

The Defensive Conundrum - The Stats

Who has been our best centre-back this season?  There is always a lot of discussion about who the best pairings have been, and who has been a liability. 

We’ve been through more than our fair share of central defenders over the years, some great, revered as demi-gods (until they refuse to sign a contract and leave us like the unwanted slags we are and move in next door with that red shirted lot).   Its ok, I’ll calm down.  Should never get myself started on good old Sulzeer Jeremiah.  Some of our defensive pillars have been slightly more wobbly, from the centre-back that doesn’t like tackling or heading the ball (thanks for Bunjevcevic, Glenn), through the ‘Ginger Pele’ who was just as dangerous in our own penalty area as he was in the opponents, and on to who out of our current crop? 

Who is the weakest link?  Gallas – just ‘cos of his overuse of his London A-Z bringing him from SW6 to N17 via N5?  King or Woodgate because of their lack of playing time? 

Looking at the players individually, there are a couple of clear winners in the shut out stakes.   The legend that is Ledley King has conceded a goal, on average, every 97.3 minutes this season in all competitions.  Excluding Corluka and Huddlestone with their solo match each partnering Bassong at the back and conceding a single goal, the second tightest defender we have is Michael Dawson averaging 86.2 minutes per net bulger.

We drop to a slightly more uncomfortable 65.7 and 63.7 minutes for Younes Kaboul and William Gallas respectively.  Assuming we want to ignore Steven Caulker’s 4 goals shipped in 90 minutes in our Carling Cup exit v Arsenal, we have ask Sebastien Bassong to shuffle forward to take his place at the bottom of this list.  Unfortunately, when I asked him to do this, he ended up so badly out of position he was sat on Ledley’s knee causing unknown damage.  He has been guaranteed to conspire to concede a goal at a rate of almost 2 per game (47.7 minutes)

But defending isn’t a solo sport, centre-back are partners.  At times, it may look as though they haven’t actually met each other, and the woeful injury record this season in this position has to have had an impact.  We’ve been without most of the above mentioned names at some point in the season; Jonathan Woodgate has been restricted to a goal-less 31 minutes in the San Siro against AC Milan. 

Our most frugal partnership this season has been the sadly underused King/Dawson pairing, who conceded only once in their three matches together.  At 270 mins/goal, they were more than twice as effective at keeping the opposition at bay as the next best pairing Dawson/Kaboul at 123 mins.  Michael and Younes have however had even less pitch time in the middle than the King/Dawson combo.

From the other possible permutations, out of a total of thirteen different combinations, only four combinations have been used for playing time greater than four full matches, displaying the pick’n’mix nature of our defensive team selection. 

Dawson appears again as key to our best defensive performances.  The Dawson/Gallas double act has been conceding at less than one goal per game (97.4 mins).  Dawson’s Batfink like wings become less like shields of steel when stood alongside Sebastien Bassong, when he becomes part out the worst coupling, allowing the opposition to breach our goal every 47.5 minutes. 

Our most commonly utilised duo – Gallas and Kaboul – manage to keep strong for an hour each time in between goals.  Again Bassong weakens a pairing by combining with Gallas to concede every 49.4 minutes. 

So, what do the stats tell us about our defensive options?  What conclusions can we draw? 

Firstly, we need to find a way to patch Ledley’s legs up and shove him out as often as we can.   We should be confident of conceding around 2/3 of the goals we currently let in if we could get King in the team on a regular basis.

Secondly, Dawson appears to be the rock on which we should be building our defence.  Yes, he seems to lose the flight of the ball now and again, and gets turned a little too easily at times, but if you ever watch a match and wonder how the f*ck did we just clear that ball from our area, chances are it was big Mike throwing his body in the way of the shot, or clearing the danger with a diving header an inch away from the oncoming striker’s boot.  He’s a good, honest, old-fashioned English centre half.  Don’t let him dwell on the ball too long, or he’ll be launching a 70 yard ball at Peter Crouch’s head.

Thirdly, Gallas is not the devil incarnate, and is putting in a properly decent shift for us this season.

Finally, it would appear that Bassong is (or should be) sixth choice centre-half, and would not have got the playing time he has (only Dawson and Gallas have played more this year) if King, Woodgate and Dawson hadn’t been sidelined.

Sadly, it may be time to say ‘Sebastien, you are the weakest link – now f*ck off’

Tottenham Origins – how I became a Lilywhite

Most football fans I know were brought up to support one team or another because that’s who their Dad supports, or that’s the local team.  It’s natural, it’s normal.  That’s how football fans are born.

I didn’t have that influence.  My Dad had absolutely no interest in football.  He still doesn’t.  He seems to think it strange that twenty-two grown men would want to run around in the rain chasing a ball.  Even more foreign to him was that people would be interested in watching twenty-two men charge about getting wet.

There wasn’t even the local team everyone was mad about to get me interested.  We lived in south Worcestershire, so there was no local team (don’t give me Kidderminster Harriers) to get excited about. 

I carried on, no allegiance to any team, unaware of what it was to be tied both in your heart and brain to one team.  Football was just what filled in the gaps between lessons at school. 

Until that day.  The day it happened.  The day I realised what football really was.

The date : July 1^st 1990

England v Cameroon, World Cup Quarter Final

I’d been aware of Italia ’90.  Someone bought me a Panini sticker album (I still need a Neil Webb, and a Columbia shiny).  I was 10 years old.  I remember it like it was only a couple of decades ago. 

That match was the start of a love affair that changed my life.  Watching Gary Lineker fire those two penalties past Thomas Nkono stirred the first feelings of patriotism within me.  All of a sudden I cared that En-ger-land were at the World Cup finals.  The tension throughout that match was gut wrenching.  I felt sweaty and sick it got to me that much (plus I’d probably scoffed a couple of packets of Opal Fruits and a Marathon which may or may not have had an influence). 

I was hooked and made no effort to escape capture.  By the time the Semi Final arrived three days later I knew the England squad inside out.  I watched along with the whole country as we came from behind with Lineker cancelling out Brehme’s opener, with Gazza’s tears flooding the pitch. 

Ok, ok, so it’s obvious how I awoke as an England fan, right?  But how did this turn itself into what is now a twenty year obsession with Tottenham Hotspur?

Lineker and Gascoigne were both Spurs men.  Simples.  One of England’s greatest strikers and a chubby Geordie lad both pulled on that slightly itchy Hummel / Holsten outfit when not on England duty. 

Decision made.  Unorthodox I grant you, but that’s how it was.  Since that heartbreaking penalty shootout in Turin I’ve been a Tottenham boy.  And now I'm a proud father to two boys that hopefully will follow the ‘normal’ route to finding their club and do as their Dad says.  They are 21 months, and 3 weeks so I’ve got time to iron out any signs of straying from the noble path.

Looking back, it’s scary thinking about what could have been.  If Gary hadn’t been so adept at finding the back of the net from 12 yards, maybe David Platt or Steve Bull would have scored those penalties v Cameroon and become my hero.  That way, supporting Villa or Wolves I could have fitted in at school and beyond, being normal and supporting a local team.  I’m sure I’d have enjoyed the excitement of football outside the top flight, or mid-table mediocrity.  I should think myself lucky to be alive – that’s quite a bullet I dodged all those years ago.

How did you find yourself forever betrothed to Spurs?  Did anyone else colour themselves Lilywhite after Italia ‘90

The only way is Spurs.

I'm new to this blogging thing

Evenin' all. 

24 hours after our glorious goalless draw against AC Milan (making us the first team to stop Milan scoring both home and away in a season since our friends up the road at the Emirates did the same in last 16 of the Champions League 2007-08 season) and we're sitting proud as the first English team into the quarter finals of this years competition.  Seeing both Liverpool and Man City both lose first legs in the Europa League is making Spurs fans even more smug about their boys recent exploits.  I've even almost forgotten about Gomes going for one of his magical mystery tours around the penalty box before Big Billy Gallas saved us from going behind.

More will follow, but I'm yet to work out if this blogging thing even works!

COYS

Chunky