Roll up for the Spurs circus

14 April 2012

At five to three, a Tottenham-supporting mate looked forward to the afternoon's fare and muttered with familiar fatalism, 'I'm a Spurs fan - get me out of here!' By five to five, you were again reminded why. The torture this lot consistently put their faithful through must be about as excruciating as enduring a fortnight in the jungle with Jennie Bond.

On Saturday, you could still hear the pained inquests into the Cup capitulation of the century being replayed down the Lane as they turned out manfully to accept more shredding of the nervous system. Of course, what Spurs fans can never truly appreciate is how their agony provides such rich drama and enjoyment for the rest of us.

Two games, two 4-3 scorelines, lost one, won one. Now that is entertainment. You take a three goal lead against 10-man Manchester City and lose in the dying seconds. You then lose the lead three times against Portsmouth and win in the dying seconds. You surrender in one and never stop fighting in the other. Roll up, roll up, welcome to the madhouse.

One minute, you are lost in admiration for Robbie Keane over the way he swivels before firing home a superb volley or runs at Pompey's defence single-handedly until sheer bloody-mindedness allows him to bundle in his second. The next, you are stupefied by statuesque schoolboy defending at the other end which allows a team who cannot score away from home to net three.

One minute, you have a hapless centre-back, Dean Richards, blundering around to gift Portsmouth a goal and having hundreds of his own stir-crazy supporters jeering him. The next, he is rising majestically at the far post to win a header which sets up Gus Poyet's last-gasp winner. Now, that really did show character. Unfortunately, it was followed by Poyet wheeling away and putting his finger to his mouth as though to say 'we've silenced all you lot'.

Oh dear. That was a bit like acting manager David Pleat noting afterwards that his players had answered 'adverse, unfair and prejudicial criticism' when, in fact, there had been nothing unfair or prejudicial about anyone identifying their midweek stumble as being truly pathetic.

Pleat sadly could not hang around long enough to explain the different mind-set this time, deciding to conduct the briefest of conferences before the press corps had even arrived. Man City was history.

'I'm not going to analyse it, overanalyse it. All I know is the simplistic thing is that some people believe it's life or death, winning and losing,' he explained.

With that, he disappeared with a profuse apology, explaining he had to rush off to catch a plane. Perhaps he just did not fancy getting interrogated further about who was going to replace him.

Yesterday, he re-emerged on radio to give us the low-down on the latest rumour. 'I know Raddy Antic. People are putting two and two together,' he said. 'Maybe they are coming up with the wrong answers but maybe they are coming up with the right answers.' Oh, give us strength ...

There is no rhyme nor reason to some of the things unfolding here. It is like a circus waiting for a permanent ringmaster to be employed at last but with the audience hardly inspired by news of the contenders. Giovanni Trapattoni, an Italian master but one coming up to retirement age who has barely a word of English. Or Antic, someone celebrated here only as the caretaker's mate, the man who made Pleaty jig at Luton.

'As long as the players are not affected by the speculation, it won't worry us,' said Pleat. Yet perhaps the players are affected because there seems a directionless air about their approach.

Okay, so the sight of Jermain Defoe announcing himself with a fine debut goal and of Keane at his irrepressible best offered glimpses of quality - and once Freddie Kanoute is back, they will not have to labour fruitlessly as a little-and-littler combination.

Yet on Saturday, the defence looked so creaky and, when Portsmouth attacked with gusto in the second-half, the midfield looked so bereft of a commanding figure to halt the panic that the visiting fans' cheeky prediction that 'we're gonna win 4-3' looked a good shout.

Pleat was right to salute his team's character because it felt like a game they won through sheer spirit rather than any grand design.

'We are moving forward as a club,' it prompted him to declare bullishly yesterday. Hmm. Perhaps he would be better off letting thousands of nervous wrecks be the judge of that.

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Dean Richards

Roll up for the Spurs circus

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