A break away from the normal post Europa inertia then. Pleasingly for once, the game has left us asking all sorts of questions. “I keep wondering if there is an afterlife, and if there is, will they be able to break a twenty?” ©Woody Allen.
Why was this particular game of greater interest, then? Well, a number of things contributed. One factor was that the game actually looked like a real game. The pitch was positively luscious, the stadium was packed and lively and an example to fans everywhere. You don’t need to do Eastern European ultra impressions for 90 minutes to create an atmosphere. The Sheriff support cheered and chanted and groaned and generally got themselves involved in every kick of the ball.
Hugo was up against it, from the off. He had one sweeping heart scare moment, but given the way he plays, that will happen. That will come with territory. His main source of support came from three places. Vlad, Jan and the Sheriff strikers. The latter were blown up for being offside 10 times by my count, including one instance where the ball was confidently buried into the roof of the net.
History will tell a different story, one where our back 5 kept another clean sheet. Won another game.
Remember that story doing the rounds, that Slur Alex was apoplectic over us snaffling Fryers? It was apocryphal. I’ve only seen Fryers in games where he’s been given a chance to show what he can do. And he does not remotely look up to the task.
Naughton has had it. Or I’ve had it with him. Drowning not waving. Light at the end of the tunnel = front of oncoming train. He looks like he should be at Palace. Not Crystal, Buckingham. Selling souvenirs outside to tourists. Someone make it stop.
Jan and Vlad were great. Jan scored of course, but outside of that, he rather looked like he was doing everyone a favour. I don’t mean that to sound quite as damning as it perhaps does. Apologists will wheel out the quality of the opposition, all that. But I don’t warm to players who are obviously taking it easy on the gears in any game, especially in one where there was actually so much to do.
Vlad will emerge to be an interesting player for us. He has an assuredness to his play; there’s a steel about him. And he doesn’t lose sight of the fact that he’s first and foremost, a bloody defender.
Sandro did the donkey work so Mousa could try and direct traffic. The big Belgian bar steward made some lovely gliding forays forward. Offensively, by and large everything worked as well it might, against a packed final third. Defensively, Sandro was just about on his Todd. So when Sheriff broke, and break frequently they did, our midfield was dismissed effortlessly.
Azza Blud was worth his weight in polystyrene chips. This won’t be popular, but it will reflect what happened last night and what has happened with him on numerous occasions before. He’s a coward. A master of hiding. Hiding from play; making himself unavailable and worse still, faking involvement.
He also did this infuriating ‘flick with the outside of the boot’ thing which failed to remotely reach one of our players 2 or 3 times. On each occasion it wasn’t the right thing to do, rather it was a great way of ridding himself of a hot potato and making the ball someone else’s problem.
His shot on goal was laughable. If you watch it, when he suddenly found himself through, he was clearly dying for something else to happen. He didn’t expect the space. He didn’t want the opportunity. He slowed, he hesitated, and when the shot came… it wasn’t a shot. It was an afterthought. An under hit on the floor pass, aimed vaguely at the far post. Wet. Gormless. Lightweight. Cowardly.
I’d be happy enough to never see him in the shirt again. He’s the last of the great underachievers. Jenas, Thud …and then there was one.
Holtby was good in places and Chadli looked like he made a positive impact, although I’m sure if he really did. He looked as if he might have.
Lamela.
Reading some of the uncharitable and uninformed tosh online about this guy this morning was embarrassing. I’m not going to try kid anyone he had a blinder, because he didn’t. But this Pot Noodle approach to games – whereby we should have games wrapped up in the time it takes to make and eat one of these hateful “meals” in in a plastic pot – is pitiful.
Modric and Bale are acknowledged as 2 of the greatest players to have worn the shirt in the last decade.
But neither pulled up any trees, neither lit any any fireworks [insert your favourite ‘doing something eye-catching’ analogy here] in their opening season, let alone opening few games.
Look, if any of our shiny new £100m+ task force turns out to be duds, it’ll be a pity, but I won’t deny it, I won’t gloss over it. But what I’m not prepared to do is start branding Lamela or any of the new lads as “rubbish” so bloody soon. I can’t even get my head around how outrageously narrow minded it is to do this.
Yes, of course your allowed to say so and so was pance, but to start guffawing at their transfer fee, questioning their career?
If a moron sat in his front room can’t cope with the fact that a we aren’t playing constantly mesmorising football, beating everyone 5-0, no wonder the ticket and travel expense paying morons at games are so dreadful; sat there like Opera goers waiting to be entertained.
These are the same brain surgeons who actually felt shortchanged when Ozil was confirmed as an Arse player, the night of the closing day of the window. Don’t deny it! I’m one of the world’s leading pop psychologists. I heard the Spurs online support sigh wistfully that night, despite the £100m just spent.
Desperate, grabby, shallow nerks.
So Lamela gets more time. He gets the same courtesy that we extended to all our new signings, innocent until proven guilty.
The same with André. Yes, his tactics are missing the mark now and again, but the outpouring of impatience from some of you makes for painful reading. Pandemic petulance.
It will take time for this squad to find it’s feet, gel as a group blah blah blah. I know that’s boring, but it sadly, it also happens to be the truth.
Eriksen was hit and miss. His real problem was lack of space and this is something that our coaches need to seriously work on. It’s a cheap generalisation to suggest that everyone we play is parking the bus, what we’re actually witnessing here is blanket defending, which if you watch lots of modern football, you’ll be aware of its prevalence.
So be it by stronger use of the wings or by drawing defenders out, we need to do something more than pass the parcel 25 yards out.
Martin Chivers must have had his head in his hands last night. The Midget Gem equalled his 22 European goals scored record. On par courtesy of a Darren Bent beach ball bonanza style finish.
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