Before I proceed to explain why beating a close rival was so awful, let me make a few things clear. I’m glad we won, but you need to understand that people have different tastes, different aspirations. People are allowed to do this this. This is a good thing. This is what makes us sentient beings.
Some of us are happy to munch into one of The Colonel’s burgers round the back of The Lane, while some prefer a slap up pre-match Lebanse. Some are happy to squeeze through the turnstiles in an inexpensive coat from a department store; others prefer to don a garment or two from an eye wateringly expensive designer. It’s all good, there are no rights or wrongs.
If you thought yesterday was a great result, your Primark car coat smells of fried onions, you probably get “someone you know” to cut your hair …and Alan Sugar knows more about football than you do.
Lucky Tim. Luck. Chance, blessing, windfall, godsend, fluke.
When all detectable signs of a coherent plan are absent, what remains is an outcome born from chance. Without any structure, what you get are varying degrees of random outcomes. That’s called chaos.
When you apply this disorganisation to a football match, it can commonly present itself in a number of ways. You might notice that the selection is questionable, or that the team isn’t set up as well as it could be in terms of coping with the threat of the opposition.
And in football, when opting to seek instruction from a Magic 8 Ball, over the considered opinion of someone with a level of expertise, deeper “foibles” will inevitably come to the surface.
Virtually every game under Tim, we start incredibly slowly. How many of the games have featured a first 30 minutes that were a write off? How many have been occasionally salvaged by odd bits and pieces of coincidental talent?
Under Arry and Jol who played in way that was pretty much universally popular, we never used to wander into matches. Now we hear phrases such as “grew into the game.” and “I got some information into ’em at half time.”
My suggestion is, that they don’t know what they’re doing. When we get the ball, we seriously don’t know what to do with it. How many misplaced, under-hit and over-hit passes did we make? We aren’t even creating any chances. If you believe we are, substantiate the claim.
We don’t press at all. When the opposition have the ball, our default setting is to stand off. See what happens.
Every Tom & Jerry show starts the same way. One of our heroes is minding their own business, the other one rolls up, there is some sort of “comedic device”, then a spontaneous chase. Cue mayhem. Who will win, the cat or the mouse?
Our play is spontaneous, animated, frenetic, responsive and coherence free. We are Tom & Jerry Hotspur.
2 shots on target against Everton. 3 shots on target against Hull. 2 shots on target against Man City. There is no system in place.
And Sherwood is completely oblivious to it.
“We are happy we are amongst it and leap-frogged Everton, and now we’re chasing Liverpool,” said Tim, charging through a clothesline of washing with a frying pan full of sizzling sausages tied to his tail, and a mouse trap clamped to each paw.
Individual angsts, then.
Some super saves from Hugo. Shameful given Everton fielded Naismith then Deulofeu as their designated striker. Bonzo’s assist was excellent. The rest of game was not quite mindless.
Dawson; pffft. Verts was frequently doing the job of 4 men. My number one candidate to walk in the summer. Rose is Championship standard.
I don’t have an agenda against Bentaleb; but I’m really struggling to see why he is preferred over Capoue. He and Lennon both contributed little, and their involvement faded from as early as the half hour mark.
But nobody was as poor as Lennon. 8 passes out of 11 for the whole game is all you need to know. How in the name of all that is holy Nabil and Azza didn’t get subbed sooner, is anyone’s guess.
Paulinho almost contributed nothing. Erisken being removed when Lennon had poncing about to no good purpose all game was surreal. Mousa in a forward role had his moments, but he didn’t really achieve too much, if anything.
Adebayor’s goal was superb. A stark contrast to the rest of his game. Farewell Midget Gem. A man who’s last touches of a football were awash with irony. Incredibly he just managed to keep onside to take the pass. Then he ignored two team mates in space to have a go from a tight angle with an under-hit shot.
Beyond being managed by an unqualified chancer, the real sadness was our inability to get even the basics right. Our passing was woeful, a number of player’s fitness looked questionable. Sherwood has significantly cut the length of training sessions.
In fairness, how long does it take to say “It ain’t rocket science” and make sure everyone is telling you how much nicer it is with you, than it was with the last bloke.
We need a manager with a CV.
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