This was dire, as disorganised as Harry’s tax return. Various combinations and formations were unable to create anything or prevent a keen, able Watford team from making a series of opportunities that should have dumped us out of the cup. Frankly that was what we deserved.

I was excited by the team news. I rightly suspected that Redknapp would pick a strong side and the attacking 4-3-3 should have provided both strength in the defensive midfield areas – Livermore and Parker – with the enticing prospect of Defoe, Adebayor and Van der Vaart linking up front. In fact, nobody knew what the hell they were supposed to be doing. Modric was wandering in an indeterminate fashion on the left, or not when he felt like it. Watford powered through the rolling hills and green verdant pastures that became the gap between Danny Rose and the centrebacks. From this pleasant Hertfordshire stroll, Watford made 5 chances in the first 17 minutes. Just before the last one in that series, Luka’s despondent figure could be seen belatedly trotting back to the edge of the box, as if he had suddenly realised he was supposed to be defending.

Adebayor’s movement was good in the early stages as we made pretty patterns without getting anywhere. No matter, plenty of time, just building up some momentum. And that was it, really. You might have thought he would have run around a bit just to keep to warm, but no, his undergarments and gloves did the trick. Let’s merely say he was conserving his energy for a long season ahead, then draw a veil over the rest.

We left far too much space on either wing and Watford to their great credit made full use of it, either by coming down the wing or slotting willing runners into the channels. We were all over the place: the young attack of a lowly Championship side created vast gaps in ways that we’ve not been used to this season. We were fortunate that their finishing did not match the poise of their build-up and that Cudicini was in good form, And just fortunate, really. At one point all our coaches were in the technical area, so frantic were we to sort out this mess, but nothing much got through to the players. We carried on regardless.

The goal came against the run of play. For once Watford’s defensive midfield barrier was absent as Rafa advanced towards the goal. His shot was almost indifferent, nothing else on so I may as well have a go but even so, there was no real intent. The keeper misjudged the bouncing ball and we got away with it. It shows the value, I suppose, of having individuals who can come up with something when the team’s off colour. The excellent pass that set Rafa up, from Walker I think although my stream’s not so clear and I couldn’t bear watching it all over again at half or full time, took out 4 defenders.

That’s the last time you will read the word ‘excellent’ in this report. Lennon’s arrival signalled a change of shape and some chance of a revival. We looked better without making any inroads and as the game went on, Watford went into a purple patch that left us reeling. Kaboul was made to look a mug, Dawson got in the way a few times, that’s the best I can do, I’m afraid. JD was anonymous and Parker had his most ineffective game for us. He’s lost some momentum since his injury and although his ferocious appetite for the game is welcome, if he is carrying any sort of a knock he should have been rested yesterday.

Cudicini had a fine match. He doesn’t get up to the top corners any more but like Friedel he makes the saves that are makeable, gets down quickly and caught enough in the air to steady the ship. I don’t have ESPN at home so I don’t know if the MOM vote is usually as farcical as last night. Why don’t they just go straight to a vote on which team has the most fans watching? A Watford man should have taken it but Carlo was head shoulders above any other Spur.

Small mercies – we controlled the last 5 minutes. Dismal and apathetic, this awful performance should be consigned to the recycle bin of the mind. The FA Cup is nothing if not about tradition, so in these circumstances, after playing so badly yet still winning, I believe I am duty bound to say, ‘it looks like the cup has got our name on it’. Churlish to point out that the same is also said about by teams that play really well in cup games, but I’ll leave that rubbish to Adrian Chiles.

We tried a different formation and failed miserably. The players we have are great, we need a striker and maybe a defender in the window but we knew that before last night. The one element that has changed is Harry. We fall apart for the first time this season and Redknapp’s in court all week. Coincidence? Nobody knew what they were doing and HR has not been around. I’ll reserve judgement but coincidence only takes us so far. Let’s put this one away, enjoy the cup this weekend knowing we are through and soundly beat Wigan on Tuesday. Then we’ll see about coincidence.

We’re grateful because it’s deflecting some of the unwanted attention directed towards another man who is as innocent as they are. It’s hardly news that Redknapp’s financial affairs may not be squeaky clean and this thankfully refers to alleged misdemeanours at another club. However, it’s a sad insight into the murky recesses of football finance. The revelation that Redknapp received commission on the profits from player sales at Portsmouth and perhaps other clubs is not new. It was mentioned in the Panorama documentary a few years ago. It’s part of his contract and is perfectly legal but that doesn’t make it right. He takes umbrage at bring called a wheeler-dealer, which is hardly the most severe insult he’s ever had to face, yet at Portsmouth it was in his interests to buy and sell players because he personally profited substantially. It’s not something that as a fan you would want or indeed expect to see in your manager’s contract as he appears in the media to say how hard he’s working for your club but funds are restricted so we have to sell before we buy. It’s legal but wrong.

There’s no suggestion that Redknapp sold players to line his pockets but it’s already apparent that he knew the personal worth of transfers, demanding 10% of Crouch’s mover, not the 5% stipulated in his new contract, which presumably he had readily agreed to. One reason why he’s done well at Spurs is that Daniel Levy will not give him his head when it comes to transfers. When Redknapp came to Spurs, I wrote a piece entitled ‘Levy is Redknapp’s Poodle’, that he had ceded control of the playing side to Harry as part of the deal to get us away from the bottom of the table. I’ve readily acknowledged on several occasions in the blog that I was wrong and that in reality Levy’s close supervision of the budgets has probably made Redknapp a better manager. It’s certainly kept Spurs on a sound financial footing and there is no way on earth that Levy would allow Redknapp to leave the club in the state he left Portsmouth and West Ham. 

Mandaric on the other hand caves in straight away. You’re not entitled, Harry, but here’s a 6 figure sum in a Swiss bank account anyway. No wonder they lost money. It’s also a telling insight into the power HR can wield at a club. I suspect Manadaric didn’t get where he is today by being soft in business yet here’s the cash if you want it.

I’m sincerely and unreservedly grateful for what Redknapp given us this season and as I’ve admitted before, he can tell us about 2 points from 8 games as often as he likes because we were in an appalling state when he took over. However, I feel attached to the club, not him. My sole concern is for the shirt. His guilt is irrelevant – what I’m concerned about is the well-being of the club. 

I knew it was coming but it was still a shock to read the twitter feed as the case opened. Twitter was riveting as the full extent of the Pakistani cricketers’’ crime were revealed, tweet by tweet, direct from the courtroom. Suddenly Redknapp was getting the same treatment. At the moment it’s a rather undignified spectacle as Harry tries to weasel out of it. First sign of a problem and it’s nothing to do with him. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong but if I did, it was all his fault’. I guess we all know the feeling of how 189k can slip our minds. Bit like that 22p in my Egg savings account. Months went by without me giving it so much as a passing thought.

Some of  it is priceless. "Redknapp told a reporter, ‘I ain’t done nothing wrong…I ain’t done nothing wrong…there aint’ nothing crooked in it…’" Was that HR;’s audition for Bill Sykes? Or today, ‘Do I need 30 f***ing grand to avoid tax Rob, I mean 30 f***ing grand. I give you 30 f***ing grand.’ Comedy gold. It’s not a problem for him to have 30k lying around, apparently.

The club have supported him – executives have been conspicuous in court but the chairman has kept his distance, just in case – and of course this happened elsewhere. On the pitch, there was no hint of a problem on Sunday. In fact, Redknapp and his team were at their peak. We managed when he was in hospital recently but to be serious he must be under intense pressure. He can’t hide that. In the dressing room the professionals that they are will ignore and perhaps secretly admire his alleged ability to make the most of his cash. I doubt this bothers them. Perhaps he’s a figure of aspiration.

Whatever the outcome, it may remain novelty value. The public don’t see this as a potential crime as in stealing a substantial sum because it’s tax, and people somehow see that differently. Same for the jury – loveable cockney geezer or cold exploiter of tax loopholes, the very ones that have received so much negative coverage lately.

Also, Harry is the media’s darling. He’s always up for a quote, in return they protect their asset. I have no contacts in the know but someone who does told me that this perception is entirely accurate – basically he’s such good value they don’t want to turn against him. This may be tested if he’s found guilty. Also, Spurs are getting some fantastically positive publicity lately, rightly so. People who aren’t that keen on football want to talk to me about the team and how well we are playing. The media are raving about us. We’ve made a huge impression, breaking out of the stereotype of predictable Premier League football. We’ve earned it because of the way we have played and carried ourselves as a well-run club. It would be a shame if the trial took that away from us, just at the moment when so much is going right.

The real test could be the one element no one can control – opposition fans. If they get stuck in, whatever the result of the case, it will be directed at Redknapp but will follow us around for as long as he’s manager. Pleat was probably on his way out after his indiscretions, which were committed while he was at Spurs, but the taunts of the opposition fans hastened the process. We’ll see. I’m always proud of the shirt but now more than ever. I hope Harry doesn’t bring us down.

Or maybe it’s pace that will take him goalwards. There’s space to sprint into, aching aging sinew the only barrier. Yet here he is, at his shoulder, past him now as the speed of the turn and four or five strides takes the ball away. The legs are weak but that mind, that mind is as sharp as diamond-tip. This mind outwits his foe again and again.

So many times. But this time, this once, now at the crescendo of a pulsating, heart-warming second half performance, a top of the table performance, there’s the turn, the strides, the tackle. Our hero, our saviour, but no ball. Never mind the points, I wanted to spare this master of unobtrusive excellence the indignity of the moment. After 93 minutes of understated assurance and a footballing lifetime of superlatives, this one horrendous split-second. Don’t let me hear it’s over. This the finest British centre back of his generation, loyal and fine, you owe us nothing, Ledley, nothing.

He watches as the long ball curls high in the air. In the previous three minutes, City threw everyone forward but there was no way through. This way and that, they passed and probed but found nothing. Back and forth, fast and slow. Nothing. This long ball was born of frustration, yet it cut into the heart of the defence as for once we failed to protect the back four. Just once in that magnificent second half. Just once but that was enough.

And this long ball, this hopeless effort, all from a hack by the one man who guards possession like a man shielding his children’s photos from a housefire. Who will take outrageous risks to make sure the other lot don’t get that precious football. Who scowls if a clearance goes safely into touch but not to a team-mate, admonishing himself because he should have done better. yet here, just this once, Benny took the easy option. Just once.

And why now, after the steamtrain careered through the most parsimonious defence and set us one stretching  centimetre from the goal and glory. After 30 minutes when, groggy on the ropes, we pick ourselves up and the City allstars are second best. When the going gets tough, this new Spurs starts to play. Not everything worked. Rafa in particular was unusually wasteful with several long-range efforts when he should have paused and passed it again. But this is a team, our team. Bale lifted us from the canvas to the heavens with a goal of power and beauty. If life could be an endless loop-tape of Hart horizontal and flailing  in mid-air as the ball arcs and dips into the corner. A stupendous goal at any time or place but at this time and this place, wondrous.

Before then, Walker’s defensive shortcomings had exposed us on two occasions and two goals followed. However, for the first the real culprit was Kaboul who was drawn too far forward. Out of position, he left a huge gap for Nasri. In the first half it had been too easy for City to put the ball into those channels between full-back and centre back or between the two centre halves but they didn’t take advantage, so it seemed like the opportunity had gone as we rectified this problem in the second half by taking closer order and protecting the back four better.

Earlier we had worked hard but looked predictably weak in the final third. Bale and Lennon came inside to help the tireless Defoe with Walker and Assou Ekotto offering width. However the link-up with VDV and Modric never quite clicked. Satisfied though after the first half.

In the second, we grew in adversity. This was a top class display from a side that despite the result fully deserves to slug it out with the big boys. Defoe pinched one from a mistake but we could not have asked more from a perfect first touch and measured finish. No one individual stood out, except perhaps for Bale who was always a danger although he should have worked back harder in the first half when City were on top for a period. Modric is playing well but not at his masterly best. He was busy without ever running the game. Parker was better in the second half. No drive from him but he tucked in effectively to the back four just when needed. Kaboul was at fault for the goal as I’ve said but he made several strong challenges. Lennon worked so well, a good game. Not so for Benny who has been off since he was kicked last week. Defoe also deserves credit for his efforts in an unfamiliar role.

Redknapp’s substitution was inspired. We look better against the best teams with a tighter midfield and Parker/Modric/Livermore was a powerful axis as we tied up the game and kept possession, masterly football under intense pressure.

I was so proud. This blog has focussed, as have others over the years, on key moments upon which the match turns. For me this was also the time when we became true contenders. We matched and bettered the title favourites on their ground, after going two goals down. Sadly, the outcome only heightened the shock and disappointment, bad enough at the final whistle but worse as the evening progresses and the adrenalin rush subsides.

If another theme of this season’s blog is what success feels like, then it comes with excruciating gut-churning tension. And to think I was writing about the pressure in the West Brom game. That was like walking across the road compared with Sunday’s walking across the Niagara Falls on a tightrope. And I wouldn’t be without it. Give me more, and after yesterday, bring them on, bring them all on. We’re ready. Top quality, top class.

And that’s one ending to the piece. The eagle eyed amongst you, which I believe is 100% of my readers, will notice I’ve not mentioned the ‘B’ word.  Today I’ve been busy, at a funeral in fact, but all the discussion has not been about a dramatic game or superb Spurs’ display. It’s about Balotelli, so I wanted to balance things up a little, in a tiny way, because that’s what the game is about. However, there is no escaping the fact that Coty should have finished that match with 9 men. The goalscorer should have been in the bath or setting off fireworks in the shower after a blatant, vindictive and pointless stamp on Parker’s head. Lescott’s elbow in Kaboul’s face was astonishing. No excuse for using his arms to lever a header or good body position, just blatant. The Webb factor again. I don’t think for a second that he has anything against us but you can’t escape his influence. This time, it really mattered.

The wife of a friend and colleague died last week. She left us as she lived, content and calm, surrounded by her loving family. John and Steph gave up a large part of their lives to care for children less fortunate than their own. They gave them love and security, keeping them safe and enriching their lives. John is a diehard Spurs fan. He and Steph met in the Royal in the High Road. My thoughts are with his family. With Steph, nothing but good memories. Rest in peace.

Writing early on a Monday morning is often by necessity rather than design as my weekends are busy but I’ve learned that it offers some perspective. Leaving the ground, there was an overwhelming sense of frustration – not only we were we the better team, but we had the opportunities and we need those points at the top of the table. Reading my twitter timeline, others felt even worse. You’d think we’d lost to the Woolwich Wanderers, looking at some of the entries. However, although this match threw some recent nagging doubts into sharper focus, it’s a measure of our progress if a performance like this is now the benchmark for a bad game.

All the hallmarks of the current side were there – the movement, application, effort and skill.  Over 68% possession, 26 goal attempts, undoubtedly we were the better team and there was plenty to enjoy but something wasn’t quite right. It was hard to put your finger on it but it was a combination of several small factors that added up over the 90 minutes.

Throughout the game we missed a series of straightforward passes, none of them significant in themselves but unusual these days with this new Tottenham. Similarly, up front the ball didn’t stick in the manner we’ve become accustomed to. At the back, we’re used to the early mistake but we were far too open at times, even though Wolves seldom ventured too far forward.  Dawson was uneasy at times and they missed a fabulous opportunity to go 2-0 up, as well as 2 more chances in the second half.

The main problem was in the box. Midweek, in the midst of my raving about the win, I hoped that we could score more goals from inside the area. Benny’s thunderbolts are all good fun but we’ve not been taking as many bread and butter chances from close in as I would wish and that proved our undoing on Saturday. Inside the area we took a fraction too much time and as in previous seasons there are no shortage of Wolves’ bodies ready and willing to get in the way. Hesitate and you will be swallowed up. The old adage is get it on target, whereas Bale, Modric and Adebayor were looking to shift it onto their better foot to make sure. That can be one problem of getting midfielders forward, that they are not instinctive chance-takers. Luka had one early opportunity from a low cross that cried out for an inelegant toe-poke, just a touch or messy deflection, but he tried too much.

Wolves encouraged us to come inside, where the massed ranks tackled, blocked, got a toe in, a shin in the way. They swallowed up so many of the one-twos and we didn’t quite have that rhythm to stretch them out of shape that has been so effective this season. Adebayor had one of his least effective matches – the one-twos were too tight. However, it looks like his offside ‘goal’ should have stood. Shades of Stoke, that’s 3 points lost due to poor decisions in similar areas, although to be fair this was marginal whereas Stoke was a street.

Overall, there was too much shooting from outside the box. Lots of oohs and ahhs but ultimately frustration. Ironically Modric scored from just such a move, a low drive into the bottom corner, but most efforts failed. By then we were a goal down. We were due one from a set-piece – our defending has been naive lately (and caused the Stoke defeat) and Dawson was beaten by a decent ball and header, with the ever-willing Fletcher tidying up the loose ball.

The goal meant we couldn’t draw out our opponents, who although they barely got the ball out of their half towards the end, were more than willing to battle it out.  Wolves deserve credit for their defending, despite our failings, and their centre halves should be proud of their afternoon. Not so with their latest variant of time-wasting that broke up what rhythm we had. It infuriates me when players go down injured in order to disrupt an attack, knowing that the ref will stop proceedings if they stay down. On 3 occasions Wolves did so and positively shrieked at their physio to not come on. The game is stopped but when the player recovers miraculously, they don’t have to leave the field.

Bale had a reasonable match but I would have preferred if he had spent more time out wide. Benny wasn’t the same after his early knock. Although he ran it off, his play was uncharacteristically lacking in confidence so we missed his attacking contributions. Parker too was perhaps hampered by injury. Again he didn’t perform badly but there was no drive or power just when we need a lift as time wore on and Wolves retreated further and further into their shell.

Kaboul, the spare man at the back, often charged forward but his final ball lacked accuracy. Good but not quite good enough on the day, which sums it all up nicely. An opportunity missed but it could be worse – two seasons ago we lost a very similar game and our overall record remains excellent. That point at Swansea, another source of frustration, looks a good one after yesterday. Half listening to 606 last evening whilst cooking the dinner, Alan Green said something about a breakaway group of three at the top. I’m still mildly surprised when he includes Spurs, but I shouldn’t be. That’s all we deserve.

After the growing pains, which some called ‘transitional years’, most were less polite, last night demonstrated how Spurs have blossomed into a side not only worthy of our position in the table, but also a team others fear. Redoubtable opponents were gradually broken down and subsequently overwhelmed by a combination of sustained fluidity, movement and pace that proved irresistible. In the process, there were moments of stunning dexterity and class. It’s not just Fergie who has noticed – the game knows that right now we play the best football in the league and it’s a privilege to watch it.

The performance of Jake Livermore epitomised the Tottenham transformation. Before the match, the talk was how we would miss Scott Parker. Maybe Kaboul would be drafted in to fill the gaping hole, because with Sandro out the rest weren’t up to it. Redknapp has shown faith in the young midfielder and Livermore did not let him down. He works hard and has a decent touch with quick feet, but what makes him stand out is his willingness to take responsibility. He’ll make the challenge and knock it off, then run some more, calling for the ball. Last night he refused to hide, taking not so much the easy or difficult option, but the right option, almost every time. His 99% pass completion rate tells only part of the story. He wanted that ball as if he were a veteran. Arthur, who sits in front of me, knows the family. Bouncers mostly, the men at least ( I assumed he meant the men), a cousin is a bare knuckle fighter. Allegedly, because that may not be legal and frankly by the sound of them I wouldn’t want them knocking on my door. But Jake is tough, ready and willing to step up when the going gets tough. In the first half he competed as an equal in the crowded central midfield against a well-organised unit. By the time second half concluded, he was the boss.

Yet such is the talent in this side, he wasn’t the best player on the field. That honour goes to Rafa Van der Vaart. Did people once dare to suggest he doesn’t work hard enough? He was everywhere last night but was particularly and powerfully effective in the way he dropped back to get attacks going then managed to come forward to be a danger in and around the Everton box. Inch-perfect crossfield balls became the norm, precede usually by that lovely little turn he does when he controls the ball and shifts away from the opponent in the same movement, thus opening himself up for a pass, typically left-footed. His first-time shot early on nearly dipped under the bar, while on another occasion he began a move with a long pass, then dashed diagonally 50 yards from right to left to get on the end of the resulting cross, deep in the area. This was the latest in a series of high class performances from a man who has seen it all and played all over the world yet is apparently enjoying the game more than ever.

Everton were neat and brisk at the start, nearly scoring from the now traditional early opening that we present to all teams at the Lane, in this instance Saha firing just wide.  They lived up to their name, which is of course Everton Hardtobreakdown FC. We did well enough, Assou Ekotto’s passing finding willing runners in Adebayor, Bale and Modric. Three times we did a neat move, a few passes creating space then Luka runs left towards the edge of the box where Benny picks him out. And they say the coaches don’t do anything.

However, Manu wanted just that one touch to many and Everton defended assiduously, crowding out men in the box and cutting out crosses at the near post. Two or three rushed to Bale wherever he was and it wasn’t until the second half that he could really work up a head of steam, bar one lovely move that set up Adebayor.

Two penalty appeals, Manu and Modric, were rightly turned down but they signalled a shift in the balance of power as the half wore on. We managed to insert players into those channels, a sign that gradually we had cranked things up. from then on, there was only one team in it.

Oddly the goal came from the Spurs player who otherwise had the quietest evening. Lennon seldom got on the ball, although he did his fair share of work off it. Pouncing on a Baines error, he cut inside. His left foot shot unsettled Howard, perhaps with the aid of the merest deflection as it passed under a defender’s body. The keeper found himself committed early and was therefore off-balance as the ball rolled forlornly into the net. Some keepers go a fraction too soon and here was an instance where Howard might have been better to stay on his toes.

Quickly into our stride after the break, we proceeded to dominate for the next 35 minutes, until we became careless and allowed Everton a few opportunities at the end. Ball and men were completely in unison as the football flowed unceasingly towards the Paxton and the Everton goal. The movement, the understanding between the players, the close control – wonderful, simply wonderful, and capped with a suitably spectacular shot from Benny, thirty yards if it was an inch, rising all the way into the corner.

So much to enjoy. All a blur. One move stays in the mind, Walker cleverly dummying the ball into his possession then hurtling 60 yards upfield, the chance missed. My sole regret is that goals didn’t come from those many moves that deserved a goal and I would have liked more to have emerged from the times we had the ball in their box, rather than rely on a thunderbolt. Manu was not at his sharpest and at times we overplayed in the area, Everton’s massed ranks gratefully blocking and tackling for 90 long minutes.

Our opponents have organisation and passing that no so long ago I would have envied. I’ve remarked before about my affinity for them and the parallels between our two sides. Both have an illustrious heritage and loyal, passionate fans who have suffered as city rivals have eclipsed them, then fallen further behind as the money follows money. However, we have moved on. Everton for all their hard work and good touches posed little threat in the final third. Their more attacking approach in the last 10 minutes suited them but it was too late and by then Dawson and Kaboul had mopped up their efforts to the point where the latter had freedom to join the attack.

It’s good to see Daws back. He has his limitations against pace but then what centre back doesn’t? (The correct answer to my otherwise rhetorical question is Ledley King). That chest proudly puffed out is a reassuring sight, and he was especially strong at the near post. In the second half he was felled by a shot that hit him square on the head. Toppling backwards, which is a long way, he picked himself up in time to win the header from the resulting bouncing ball. That’s attitude.

Friedel didn’t have a real save to make but made everybody feel better just by standing there. Benny’s passing and support play were outstanding, never mind the goal. Luka was busy and involved but he’s not at the dizzy heights that represent the peak of his form. Rafa more than made up for him. Bale’s runs were unstoppable, at least by fair means, and both he and Walker made good use of their pace as the space opened up an increasingly bedraggled Everton defence.

Later on, Luka picked up possession and carefully passed the ball into touch. He received a polite ripple of applause, hard lines, good attempt. Now that shows the degree of satisfaction in the stands. No inflated expectations – let’s not worry about the title. Sit back and enjoy the challenge, this team is as good as anything I’ve seen for at least 30 years. A pleasure and a privilege to watch them grow up.

Edit: I am indebted to my friend Rich who saw Benny being interviewed on French TV. The reason he wears odd boots is that he can’t be bothered to find a sponsor so he bought 2 pairs for himself. He ruined one boot so just decided to wear odd ones. He is a top man.

For any regulars mortified, nay bereft, at the lack of a match report for the Cheltenham game, I didn’t see it, couldn’t find a stream and decided not to either pretend or concoct a witty post on shopping in TK Maxx. By the end of that, I had nothing left to give.

“Which team’s title challenge collapsed when one of their players injured a team-mate and their opponents scored because only 9 players were on the field?”

The correct answer is ‘punch Matt Dawson’s lights out’, but of course that’s the right answer for all QoS questions, the grinning smug git.

It’s not so far removed from reality. Pure comedy gold worthy of  ‘What Happened Next?’ After a bright opening, Spurs performance began to deteriorate after 15 or 20 minutes and has reached a frustratingly low ebb as the second half progresses. As Kaboul crashed into Livermore, who deserves credit for taking control of the situation as well as a smack in the mouth that led to a bloody exit and a trip to hospital, we reached the point of disintegration.

We needed a sub and Kaboul a new shirt. The bench is packed with coaches and physios but no one was ready. Younis eventually reappeared bulging out of a child’s size number 49 jersey, by which time we had been playing with only 9 men for a couple of crazy minutes. Fortunately West Brom had spent so much time holed up in their own half that they had little idea about what to do at our end and their finishing was as profligate as it had been at the Hawthorns earlier in the season.

My giddy aunt, we made this hard work. After Swansea stifled us on Saturday, normal service was resumed or so it seemed. Starting with a positive 4-4-2, Sandro and Modric immediately flourished despite the crowded central area. With width from the full-backs, Bale and Van der Vaart made the most of their free roles. The passing was crisp and sweet, the link-up play to match. A few early shots and half-openings, no worries, the goal was only a matter of time.

Gradually, however, the early lustre faded. Modric’s passes began to go astray and his uncharacteristically vapid effort was all more the obvious because as our tempo flagged and the creativity dried up this was a game that cried out for him to take over. Sadly he looked tired and jaded, perhaps the result of a knock late in the first half. We then looked to Sandro for his trademark surges but he was injured too.

West Brom were missing key men and their ambitions could not have been more limited. At one point they had 11 men within 35 yards of their own goal. They made it hard to play but they didn’t shut us down as did the Swans. Our wounds were more self-inflicted. Time and again we’ve seen how we play better when we up our pace and rhythm yet there was little energy or bounce on show.

Kaboul and Gallas both played well, efficiently mopping up West Brom’s feeble attacks, and Younis became our spare man, driving on with runs from deep. In the second half, Gallas found himself at centre forward on a couple of occasions, such was the time available. However, apart from one superb flowing move when Benny set up Rafa, we couldn’t unduly trouble Foster.

Bale provided some danger but as on Saturday, if he starts his runs further forward and from the already crowded central areas, he is easier to handle. He won a couple of free kicks – West Brom had 5 men booked, 4 for tackles on Bale whose shins must be bruised and sore this morning. However, that’s not much help. A succession of corners were dealt with without fuss. As Rafa was poised over a free-kick near the end of the half, about 10 flashes lit up in the crowd to capture the moment. They couldn’t have been regulars – the weak shot hit the wall, like they all do. Useless to put the flash on, of course, because it only illuminates the immediate area in front of the camera. Not that I was distracted by now, you understand…

A half-time pep talk from Harry signalled an increase in tempo and all-round effort. Manu’s cheeky backheel was volleyed just over by JD  but quickly this dissipated. We were getting nowhere. The one real exception was Van der Vaart who worked throughout the match to make something happen, then did more of his fair share of defending as we were hanging on grimly at the finish. A fine all-round performance, if not quite the sharpness in and around goal that could have made this night easier on the nerves.

This was poor and uninspired. The crowd was quiet – no sense of expectation or that we are top three contenders. Then the goal. Defoe, who had barely touched the ball for half an hour, miscontrolled a ball deep in their box. It popped up head high. However, he has the strength now to hold off a defender and back to goal, he swiveled to slot home, a classic striker’s instinctive finish. Brilliantly taken.

Our opponents pushed forward, finally. Gallas and Kaboul remained on top, then Willy went off, another injury, the keystone cops episode and everything fell apart. We looked far from contenders now. Tiredness meant we couldn’t keep possession and passed to them repeatedly. This was truly dire, the worst passage of play this season. However, West Brom couldn’t make the most of the acres of space, Friedel saved competently twice and we belatedly got hold of the ball to play out time in the corners.

We missed, Luka missed, Parker’s busy prompting. The injuries leave us with no choice but to play a second string on Saturday. When we went out of the Europa League, it was supposedly OK because we had the league and cup. Now the language is about making the cup less of a priority. A team at the top of division 2 will be after blood and we shed enough of that last night.

This blog has fought against the ‘win ugly’ cliche. It’s too often used as an excuse but this was not so much ugly as disfigured, football’s equivalent of a Victorian freak show. I spent most of the match muttering under my breath about keeping the ball, passing it around and something would happen. To be fair to Spurs, eventually it did and a class finish gave us the points we deserved. We persevered despite the injuries and remain on course in this crucial month. Now over to the treatment room – our fate could rest in the healing hands of the physios.

Enjoy it while it lasts – except we can’t, because it’s not always fun. On Saturday, resisting pressure for the most part and a goal to the good, Swansea significantly tip the balance in the last 15 minutes. We’re hanging in there, then the keeper and two defenders are drawn to the near post. The ball somehow eludes them all and as it squirms free across the box, there’s the stomach-upending so familiar from the old days, that moment when you know what’s going to happen before it does. The whole game flashes before your eyes….

Swansea’s possession game and their disciplined organisation collectively pushed us back early on and we never established our domination of territory or the ball for any length of time. It was as if their collective will imposed itself on our game. They have a few quality footballers – Redknapp paid Allen the compliment of  pushing Sandro on to mark him but like all classy players the Swansea man responded by doing even better. However, their midfield stifled at birth our efforts to get going by pressing high up the pitch and denying us possession. It’s amazing how few Prem teams have learned this lesson so admirably demonstrated by the Swans – however good the other team is, they can’t do a thing without the ball.

Because of this high pressing, our midfield were forced deeper. Modric and Parker never got going and Adebayor was isolated from his team-mates. Bale tried too hard to break the stranglehold. His free role works only if he comes from deep and his runs are unexpected. If he hangs around in the centre, he’s back on his heels and was swallowed up by eager tacklers. He would have been better staying on the left, cutting in when required. Benny found it simple enough to take the full back apart, not once but twice, then VDV pounced.

Although he was helped by a deflection, the goal appeared to signal the difference in class between a team at the top and the rest – sharp in the box when it matters. For all Swansea’s sterling efforts, we defended perfectly well for most of the match, restricting them to ooohs and aaahs from long shots. Pretty enough but the danger comes from what goes on in the box, not from range. Still, Kaboul had to make one timely stretch and as in previous games we looked frail at set pieces. Falling for the Sheringham corner was slack.

As the match reached its final stages, we seemed to have accepted our fate of being pushed right back but were apparently unconcerned, defending reasonably well and content to see out time until the final whistle. Moore’s surge into the box was only moment of genuine danger until Graham came on. His presence and movement tipped the balance in Swansea’s favour and although we should have dealt with that cross, they had several chances and deserved their point. Funny to see Friedel less than perfect. We’ve become used to better.

Great credit to our opponents, and few teams have scored at their ground let alone won. In the cold light of a frosty Monday morning, this looks a decent point. Last season we would have probably lost a tussle such as this one and of course we gained at least this single point on our rivals. The true value of this draw, however, will not be judged until the end of the month when we complete a run of winnable home games including the game in hand versus Everton that has achieved mythical status. Win those and an away draw when off the boil and against sound opponents will look just fine.

Parker looked unhappy and needs to look after that leg. It looked like a bump on the side rather than anything deep down. Let’s hope so.

The league will be wondering how to stop Spurs (another sure sign of how well we are doing!), so several managers will be scrutinising the DVD of Saturday’s game. As well as Swansea, West Brom in the first half and Chelsea for three quarters of the game stopped us from getting going by piling on the pressure in the centre of the pitch, so expect more of the same this month. We have to find a way of getting through this. The key is doing what we do best, keeping the ball despite the lack of space and using width from the full-backs especially. It’s another challenge and I believe  we are up to it.

Happy New Year to Spurs fans wherever you may be. Supporters from all round the world read Tottenham On My Mind, and each and every week I’m so grateful. Thanks to the regulars, the cracking comments sections and subscribers. Couldn’t do it without you, and here’s to a glorious 2012 for the club we adore.

So when I switched on the TV it took me a moment to get my bearings. First thing – top left hand corner, read it three times just to make sure and remember to breathe. No goals, 34 minutes gone. A second or two to focus on the pitch. Then this team in white pick the ball up near their box, develop a passing move at full speed that slices through the yellow shirts, end to end in about four or five touches and as many seconds, hammered just wide. Hang on, that’s us…Remember to breathe.

This is us, the new Tottenham. Sincere apologies to Norwich fans if you did anything exceptional in the first 33 minutes but from what I saw, Spurs were stunning. Relentless pace, exceptional passing, bewildering movement. There seemed to be no end to our inventiveness coming forward, the only concern being that in the first half this did not lead to any goals. Second half, City could contain a rampaging Bale no longer. Given free rein by his manager, he was unstoppable. Out wide, teams can at least try to double or sometimes triple-team him, but what can you do if you don’t know where he’s going to appear?

A couple of interesting reflections on this that relate to the team these days. In the past, our, um, idiosyncratic players often fooled their team-mates as much as they bamboozled defences. Ginola for example was wonderful to watch but often the others didn’t take up good goalscoring positions because he hung on to it for so long and so they didn’t know when to commit to a run into the box. Yet this team picked out Bale on a regular basis, Van der Vaart excelling yesterday in another, complementary, free role and Modric, more disciplined but still alert and accurate.

Second, Our Gareth invoked the Champions League as an educational experience as the secret of our success. This is something I identified at the start of the season, that we should be more resilient as a team because of Europe and so it proved. Undaunted by our failure to score, we quickly re-established the dominance of our first period and turned the screw with a determined effort to retain possession. Add the confidence that something will turn up once we have that platform and you’re on to something big. Adebayor made the difference. Found unerringly through a crowd of defenders by Rafa, his impeccable control and delicate touch set up Bale who was left in too much space by the usually attentive Norwich central defence. They too were mesmerised by Manu’s dazzling feet and were sucked in like moths to a flame. Bale therefore had the room and time to score.

We kept up the tempo after scoring and nearly converted a couple more efforts before this phenomenon came into a central position and began his charge. This is a great time to be a Spurs fan – I’ve not seen us play this well for a good thirty years. But Bale on the charge is one of the great sights of my time as a fan. Someone that big, at pace, caressing the ball as if it were made of eggshell – utterly remarkable. He tore the defence asunder, then kept his poise to finish not with power but with guile and intelligence. Remember to breathe.

Rafa was outstanding, Luka a close second, Parker calm and solid, Sandro a rock. All of them jealousy guarded the ball once it was won. Another instance of the fluidity that’s possible with Sandro and Parker, Modric in front of them. It gave Bale and VDV the freedom to do what they do.

It also snuffed out any fleeting hopes of a Norwich comeback. If I have a complaint, it was that they had too much room in the last 5 minutes around our box. However, this highlighted another aspect of our game these days. We back ourselves one on one in any match-up. Kaboul knew he had the task of holding Holt and he did not shirk for a moment. Gallas covered and tackled, while Walker, well, I’m not a huge fan of stats as a way of describing the whole truth about a player or a match but: tackles won – 6/6, ground duels 8/8, aerial duels 1/1. That means he won every single challenge over 94 minutes

Norwich are a well organised side who were outplayed. They stuck to their task and there’s no disrespect in defeat under those circumstances. I can’t quite believe I’m writing this way about a Spurs team but that’s how it was – in every area we outplayed, out-ran and out-thought them. There had to be one worry. Not normally one to stand and stare but Manu’s buttock held my attention for a minute or two in the second half. He’s such an influence, we really don’t want to lose him. But he was OK and frankly so am I. That’s all I wanted for Christmas. Unreservedly superb, the perfect away performance.

Recently it has taken Spurs a while to get going. Last night, we started like greyhounds after a live hare. Bale went for the throat and ripped apart the defence in a series of blistering, muscular runs. The Sandro/Parker platform give him free rein and how he took to his task with relish. In the end, Chels*a stopped him only by delegating 3 men to cover. By then he had set up Adebayor’s goal, great anticipation plus a long gangling leg to get in front of the defender and better judgement than Cech who didn’t think the Spurs striker could reach it.

This was one of a number of runs, wide to bang in the crosses or cutting inside to make and miss a good opportunity in the opening minutes. The volleyed cross above waist high, chasing a cause everyone else had given up, epitomised his first half.

Good times. Sandro snuffed out any moves by our opponents down the middle while Modric was always able to find space in a crowded midfield. One lovely moment when he conjured up a pass in the very moment of being dragged to the floor by a defender. Assou Ekotto found him regularly with early, accurate passes. We played like the favourites we were and ran the game. Sturridge shot over after an uncharacteristic Friedel fumble. Nothing could go wrong.

However, gradually our opponents reasserted themselves. Drogba hit the post. The goal was a soft one, the scorer unmarked in the box a few yards out. Handball? I’ve not seen any replays but it didn’t look blatant from the Shelf. The Paxton were outraged but then again it was one of those tense evenings that provoked moments of outrage throughout. I did see Benny trailing back, too late to pick up Sturridge, who caused problems for the rest of the game coming in from his wing and BAE was adrift too often. Not one of his better nights.

It wasn’t just the goal that brought them back into contention. In the comments section of Sunday’s piece, as ever more interesting than the article itself, a few regulars and I chewed the tactics fat. Tactics were always going to be crucial in a match of this significance. The Blues’ 4-3-3 allows them to break quickly and sustain an attack with numbers but also they fall back into a dense, disciplined 4-5-1 when they lose possession. To break through we needed to continue to be at our peak but for threequarters of the match we didn’t pass or keep the ball as well as we have done this season. Our opponents stifled us like a boxer hanging on in the clinches but we could and should have been more inventive. VDV couldn’t get on the ball at all, perhaps because of injury, and Parker was quieter than usual. Rather than knock it around and wait for an opening or spread the ball wide, we pushed it forward too quickly.

Harry saw Rafa’s departure as an opportunity rather than a threat. We went 4-4-2 in a bold move to take the game to the Blues and exploit their rearranged right side of the defence. It didn’t work. Pav provided some comedy value but no one was laughing. On the way home we were overtaken on the North Circular by a white Audi 6 PAV, heading off down the A12. Could it have been he, speeding away from the ground as fast as he could, which supposedly he did on Sunday?

As with Sunday, two up front doesn’t work well with this team. They are used to a different balance. It’s better with Defoe because he’s adapted his game this season to play deeper when required. However, as time went on Pav and Manu stayed forward and increasingly detached from the others, too far apart. Manu should have roamed but as it was, their back four were seldom shifted around and dealt with our increasingly rare attacks.

Also, Luka has to stay central. Despite Cole’s advances on our right, we were weak when Modric was wide right and strong every time he came into the middle. This was why we were better in the later stages: Luka was in his rightful place. He had a good effort deflected, then made the pass that enabled Bale to put in Manu for his late chance.

Our defending at set pieces was amateurish. We never got close to Terry and I was relieved when Drogba was substituted.

Our opponents were stronger for much of the half and frankly should have scored. I swore as the ball reached the head of Ramires: it sounded for a split second that mine was the only voice in the stand as a deathly hush descended and time stood still. He missed, and 30,000 souls exhaled.

We mopped up many attacks but never quite picked up their runs from deep. Gallas rose to the challenge, becoming more assertive, while King was alert and quick. He and Sturridge set off on a chase. This was more than a dangerous throughball on the right wing. It was the old master versus the young pretender.

In the blink of an eye, it could have been the changing of the guard. Ledley has learned to turn quickly and maintain a chopped economical stride to coax the maximum effort from those battered, weary bones. He was ahead but the young man pressed from behind. Eager and willing, he sensed weakness and quickened. Shoulder to shoulder at full speed now, for a moment he eased ahead but Ledley stretched one last time and came away with the ball, the master still. Long live the King.

We rallied in the final ten minutes but the impact of good chances for Luka and Sandro were lost in the stomach-churning emptiness of the possibility of defeat. This hideous desperation is part and parcel of success too, I guess. I thought our moment had come as Modric and Bale opened up the defence at last. Manu stroked the ball goalwards but Terry blocked it and the moment had passed. Despite this, we began the night confident that anything less than three points would be failure but ended it relieved that we had one. A good point in that we are ahead and stayed there. Chels*a are still chasing us and like Ledley, we have enough to stay ahead.

Everyone focussed on John Terry. I’ve deliberately left it until last. I don’t like the man and how he carries himself. He deserves some stick but the negativity grew tiresome after a while. The ground felt a better, more positive place for our team when the Lane was rocking with ‘When the Spurs’.

His fans gave him their full support. I question what this says about them. Terry is innocent until proved guilty but if I were accused of racist remarks I would be home under suspension rather than leading my team into the challenge of the New Year. His employers put their own narrow and selfish needs before that of the wider issue of racism in football.

The same can be said about their fans. It’s highly unlikely but if a Spurs player were similarly accused, I would support the team because I love the shirt but would remain silent when it came to that individual. Yet by their actions I can only presume that their fans provided their full backing to a man accused of racism. The tribalism of football offers no excuse. Disgraceful.

I guess this is what success means. Regular readers will know that whilst I’m unreservedly extracting every last Higgs boson of pleasure from the current run and this terrific team, I’m still pondering on what being successful feels like. It’s just that it’s been so long. 44 years on from my first match, I’m being accused of being a gloryhunter. The price of fame.

It’s odd. Spurs fans are often told they are fickle. We’ve had a reputation in the past of getting on the team’s back very early if things are not going well. This goes back to when I was a teenager. I don’t think we are any worse than the other Premier league teams who have been in the top division for a while and we’re a lot better than many, but even our detractors would have to acknowledge that we have stuck around. My kids are in their mid twenties now. They’ve been coming since they were little and they’ve not been there for the glory.

A ‘before and after’ victory. The ‘before’ was a first half reminiscent of so many sticky and listless afternoons during the dark days of old. Struggling to get going, no tempo, an absence of pace or inventiveness. Good players passing to shadows.And the surest sign of the old days – dull. Spurs and dull. These days it goes together like Ant and Ball or Cannon and Dec. How far have we come when we’re concerned about 45 minutes where we are superior and make a few chances, yet we know it’s not us because it’s not flowing?

Then ‘after’. A change of emphasis in the formation, add the commitment and determination of every last one of them, the talent’s already there and we are transformed. A shame there was only a single goal to show for our dominance but don’t let those late wobbles fool you: this was a decent victory and there were real and lasting positives in the manner in which we overcame adversity.

In these pages I’ve debated the pros and cons of our midfield set-up ever since TOMM began. Whatever the merits of playing two wide men, that’s what the whole team are used to. In the first half, it took us a while to escape the clutches of Sunderland’s packed and hardworking midfield but when we did knock a few short balls, they looked up to stretch the play and saw only empty grass. When we tried something, the ball was overhit – Modric to Lennon, Lennon to Walker, it looked the same but it wasn’t quite working.

When Lennon departed, we looked forlorn and bedraggled. Luka wasted on the left, Rafa couldn’t get on the ball, Parker deep. Pav on and had a good chance that he didn’t commit to, Manu good touches but nothing in the box. Crosses sailing over the far post. Sunderland had the best chance, a low cross that flashed across the box, but they had no ambition and Gallas had young Wickham in his pocket.  Following the evidence from the Stoke match last week I predicted that the high balls would rain down. Gallas gave away a stone and 4 or 5 inches but showed that a clever old ‘un has the drop on a good young ‘un. Apart from one free-kick conceded, he was the master. This season as last, it takes Gallas five or six matches to become match fit. He’s ready – a fine game.

The 4-4-1-1 with Bale and Lennon as attacking wide men has worked well. In the long run, I’ve discussed and advocated the merits of trying Parker and Sandro as two defensive midfielders with Modric central in front of them, Bale and Rafa and leaving out Lennon, despite his strong performances this year. Harry demonstrated the value of this set-up, at least as an alternative, in the second, tactical changes that brought us the three points and he deserves the credit. Although Parker did plenty of the fetching and carrying from deep, Sandro stayed back, Rafa and Luka could play in a more central position, leaving space out wide for Walker and BAE to provide width. Parker went further forward predominantly while Manu had a more roving commission up front. I understand why Pav came on, 2 up front because Sunderland were so cautious, but paradoxically it made us less incisive because we’re not used to playing that way.

Sandro had a good first half an hour – he saw this as an opportunity and was determined to make the most of it. Like the others, he tailed away as the half concluded. He then produced a storming second half until he went off near the end, exhausted after several lung-busting runs and feeling the effects of Thursday. This rock allowed the others freedom to get forward. When he lost the ball, he had but one thing on his mind, to get it back. He’s top class, born to that position.

Now we were cooking. These changes ignited the tempo. Rafa hit left foot pingers all over the place, Luka and Parker kept the ball moving and the full-backs were more than willing to help. We would have had more if Benny had been a fraction more accurate but Sunderland made it hard to penetrate their massed ranks.

The goal when it came was a sweet effort from Pav. I was in line, such a lovely feeling to turn away in celebration before it hit the net, knowing it was in. Otherwise, he didn’t do a lot, one decent shot. We should have had more – on twitter the match announcer Paul Coyte said Luka was kicking himself for the miss long after the final whistle. Rafa was well set at the edge of the box for a couple of his specials but he didn’t connect cleanly, and Manu was close twice. I’ve not checked the stats but we didn’t really make the keeper work too hard. That said, there was only one team in it.

Sitting on the Shelf means I’m close to our full-backs and wingers. We know how good Walker is but I want to tell you how focussed he is. There’s a look in eyes that would scare me if I played opposite him because of its intensity. Like Sandro, losing it means an opportunity to get stuck in. Nothing but getting it back. Brilliant.

Finally, a word of praise for Friedel. His calm understated excellence spreads to the rest of the team. A couple of good saves but his true value is in his safety. He catches where possible and when it is his, he makes it. His low save from a shot come cross late on was competent and expected but it meant so much, and if we do well this year we owe him a vast debt of gratitude.

So we’ve learned to overcome setbacks and we have a plan B. No wingers but we won, and won well. 606 on the way home, an Ar****l fan bristles at an earlier call from a triumphant Spur. He was wrong to write them off but she really got the hump. Showing that they don’t know the game, she wrongly said we haven’t won anything since their last trophy. She sounded as though she was a lot younger than me so she knows nothing but success. She needs some perspective. She was really edgy – I reckon that’s a sure sign of what success feels like.