IN TOTTENHAM CONVERSATION WITH @spurs_ssp - PART 3

Quite the week for our fast-fading heroes. Leave us breathless against our biggest rivals, then winded versus an underestimated team of scrappers. So, a perfect opportunity to a take up another Spurs dialogue with the unflinchingly excellent Mr Such Small Portions.

3. Which players have performed this season and who’s been found wanting?

Charlie: Dave,
 
Right, a Player of the Season to start. I might just plump for William Gallas. He sometimes looks like he’s running on fumes, he’s the mercenary’s mercenary and those nose-bleed, crazy-legged advances into enemy territory always make me giggle/gasp, but he’s dragged us through games this season. And in the absence of Ledley, Gallas has given Michael Dawson his requisite hand-holder.

Our captain’s an odd one. Imperious against storied opposition and defiant when his back’s firmly against wall, yet occasionally mindless in less glitzy arenas and always culpable versus nippy strikers. I feel like I’m bad mouthing the faithful family dog, but there are times (in fact, I can be explicit about those times: a.) whenever he’s sailed a Hollywood cross field ball needlessly into Row 9 of the East Stand b.) he chugs through treacle after a disappearing forward and c.) each occasion he allows himself a penalty box lunge) where Daws is essentially a Rich Man’s Roger Johnson. I also can’t help but feel he remains forever the junior partner longing for a calm, senior head to guide him through choppy waters, despite now being a 27-year-old international.

To their right, well, it’s been a bit of a shambles. Vedran Corluka began the season with Kaboul panting down his stubbly neck, before Scots thug Alan Hutton lucked out on a dual injury, swung us a game against Wolves and turned in several months of 6/10 performances despite Harry loathing him. All the while, we were harbouring grass-is-greeners over at our own Kyle Walker, who most of us now presume will return to usurp his trio of middling rivals. (Funny how it’s always the less fancied half of our double deals who seem to flourish at Spurs. Davies over Etherington. Dawson, and not Reid. And now seemingly Walker instead of Championship-doomed Kyle Naughton).

Since Alan Hansen’s vindictive and beautifully ignorant attack on Benoit Assou-Ekotto (although he was pretty rubbish that night against Everton), our left-back’s consistently impressed. The derby was the perfect Benny performance: tenacious when challenged, unruffled and cocky in possession and mentally tuned in for 90 whole minutes. Yes, he then hobbled off with a dubious looking knock after gifting West Brom their opener and I doubt he’d confident identifying what “WBA” stood for if challenged, but I do sort of love him.

Now, I know you love Luka as strongly as I nurture a misguided torch for Rafa. And don’t get me wrong, he’s probably been our best player this year. His departure would be catastrophic and I’d forever miss seeing him dance past burly henchman. But as you bravely stated in your post-Arsenal report, Dave, he doesn’t score enough. And we’ve needed goals from him his season.

Meanwhile, Rafa’s gaudy goal record masks a lot of mid-season issues. He has looked unfit, he matches Modric in the deceptively slow stakes and owes us an almighty last few games to apologise for waddling around, petulantly wasting possession since Christmas. But, had we landed Harry’s chief target – a prolific striker capable of leading the line solo – then I believe 4-2-3-1, with Van der Vaart, Bale and Lennon buzzing about behind said £30m man (with Modric and Thud/Sando in central midfield) presents zero problems. That formation soured when our strikers hardened in their perverse collective goal strike. Suddenly, should our attacking midfielders not score, we were doomed.

And it’s the forwards who deserve our loudest tutting. Defoe’s now third choice and, for me, bound for another prolific stint somewhere more austere than London. Domestically, Crouch has been rumbled. Games of unplayable dominance like Stoke endured the other week are far, far too rare. Instead, we groan as he drags another shot feebly past the post and like lovely Abbey, struggle to forgive him for dicking about in Madrid.

The whole ‘Super Pav’ thing has been always a cult hero too far for me and I’d like him returned this summer. I never liked how the woefully limited Steffen Freund was always championed for charging around like a WWE moron, but at least he cared. Too often, Roman fails to get beyond a canter, has a maddening habit of reminding you just good he can be when games are irredeemable and simply isn’t prolific enough to warrant any further patience. Same for Gomes. I can’t stand him for a season longer. Just give me a bog-standard stopper who won’t humiliate me at work on a Monday, please.

During last summer, I would grow giddy imagining Gareth Bale and Aaron Lennon hurtling down their respective wings. Which is why their injuries and inconsistency have been so disappointing. You see, Dave, I was expecting the pair of them to carve up the Premier League. Instead, they’ve just given Europe a fright and each have a handful of league moments to cherish. I know I sound incredibly harsh on the pair of them. Bale is Europe’s most wanted prospect, the Player’s Player of the Year, and doesn’t require me bleating on about his abilities. And Lennon has enjoyed patches of fully-realised productivity and won us several huge, clutch and exciting points in the final minutes. But I’m greedy, I want more.

And that probably sums it all up. No one’s played particularly poorly this season, really. Watching Spurs in the second half of the derby, I realised just how good we are now. But then we stink the place up in games against West Broms and West Hams and I realise I want more. And this lot can give us more. They can all just be incredibly annoying.

Dave: Charlie,

It has been an odd season in terms of heroes and villains.

Especially odd when you consider that Gareth Bale was voted PFA Player of the Year and yet most Spurs fans would say he’s not even Tottenham’s player of the year, and that little Luka has actually been our most outstanding and consistent performer (AND IF THEY DON’T SAY THAT THEN THEY ARE IDIOTS AND SHOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING AT ALL).

I think your run-through of the line-up is pretty spot-on – and extra kudos for the phrase ‘gaudy goal tally’ in reference to the sometimes maddening Mr VdV.

I’m not prepared to go quite as far as you re. Billy G, though. Yes, he’s played well and can be an especially reassuring presence in big games, but I still tend to check my phone, or tie up a shoelace when his name’s read out before the match. He’s still William fucking Gallas for God sake. And I can’t shift that image of him staging that sulky sit-in at whatever northern graveyard Arsenal found for their title hopes a few years back.

Sorry, to keep to some sort of order, let’s dart back to the Gomes conundrum. He costs more points than he saves and he pisses me off with that stupid jumping up and down touching the crossbar thing when he comes out for the second half. So, whilst it’s not as important as sorting out the striking problem, we should at least have a scout around for someone better.

In defence I’d pick out Kaboul as a beacon of hope. And I’d insist that all discussions discount the possibility of King and Woodgate ever playing for us again. That’s the mindset we need when assessing our CB options. Totally agree with your point re. Dawson; he needs to be the main man, not second banana. If he can make that psychological leap then I’d have no problem with him and Younes being our first choice pairing next year.

In midfield, Modric is clearly a superstar. Our best player, one of the Premier League’s best players and, if he keeps progressing as he is, soon to be one of the world’s best players. We must keep him. Fuck it, make him captain if we think it’ll help. He’s not a gritted teeth, clenched fist kind of player, but he never shirks either the responsibility of possession or the crunch of a 50/50. Who wouldn’t follow and respect him?

The emergence of Sandro has been a bonus – and as far as I’m concerned a wholly unexpected bonus. I just didn’t think someone with that haircut would ever really, pardon the pun, cut it. I mean it’s just so awkward and graceless. He’s overcome it, though, and Palacios, I think (hope) will now be surplus to requirements.

Bale, Lennon and Thud have all stalled to some extent. That might sound odd in relation to our Welsh winger and his peer-approved prize, but we knew he was this good last season, and apart from a golden period in and around those two Inter games, he hasn’t really kicked on in 10/11. In fact, in the last couple of months he’s seemed subdued, distracted and hesitant.

If those three can develop next year (and stay fit) like we hoped they would this year, then that will be a huge bonus. With Lennon and Thud, though, you do start to worry that we’ve been talking about ‘potential’ for rather too long.

Up front? Fuck knows. The problem with our three is that they’re not completely hopeless. There’s no obvious one to chuck or one to keep. Defoe can still shift the ball half a yard and slam it in the corner; Crouch has undoubtedly proven a handful in Europe and worked well with VdV; and Pav, our enigmatic if not exactly energetic Russian cult, well he has the physical presence and finishing technique to be a real handful on his day. He just doesn’t have many days.

So, we need a change, we need more quality and we need goals. But do we need one big buy? Wholesale change? Personally, I’d keep Pav and Defoe and buy one more big name (Redknapp will be off soon, and isn’t there a chance that someone else might fancy Pav a bit more and subsequently get more out of him?). Oh, and if Man U offered a straight swap, VdV for Berba, I’d probably take that – providing he came with the right attitude. Yeah, you’re right, unlikely.

Or, we make a smart, informed punt, like we did with Berba, in fact, spend £15-£20m on someone who’s on the radar but not yet a superstar. I’d rather do that than go for Drogba, anyway. Just couldn’t learn to love that man.

So, yeah, agreed, no one’s been awful. The strikers have been disappointing, the midfield hasn’t lived up to its stellar potential and the defence, shorn of its two best performers, has been largely admirable whilst prone to meltdowns. And Gomes is a clown, a clown who can sometimes pull off a worldy. And now, having slipped into the vernacular of Paul Merson, it must be time to sign off. COYS!

More coming up when we've shaken off our collected disappointment. In the meantime, investigate Dave's superb, ever-so-slightly maudlin blog Such Small Portions.

THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE

Today, I take my girlfriend to her first weekend Spurs game. She made her glitzy debut at the Milan game, but thanks to me being unwell to the point of willing the wretched game over and the lack of goals, she's seems more excited about today. This is her proper Lane debut. She's even talking about "customising" my Rafael van der Vaart t-shirt and trying to remember the chants.

And really, this should be the ultimate debut-friendly fixture. The sun's out, it's the Easter holidays, there'll be boisterous beer gardens, we're against (admittedly slightly resurgent but still...) inferior opposition and hopefully all the players she's been bludgeoned into forming opinions on ("the lazy Russian you shout at a lot"... "the little quick one with the go-faster eyebrows".... "Rafa, who'd you'd probably run off with"... "that naughty Peter") will feature. She might even see a few goals.

Of course, I'm praying she'll see more than that. I'm praying that she'll see a carnival of free-flowing football, led by a resurgent Rafa that'll move her into perhaps appreciating why her boyfriend gets so silly about it all. That she'll understand the collective - and greater - joy you take from experiencing a victory alongside 36,000 people all hankering after the same thing. That she'll get her own favourite player (my money's on Benoit) and maybe even want to come again.

Of course, this is all if we do as we're supposed to today. But let's not forget: this isn't like taking someone to the theatre, or a gallery. There, you can be confident a good time will be had. You'll have carefully sourced reviews to ensure satisfaction and even if the movie/gig/show is a crushing disappointment, it's not going to effect your general mood too greatly. But at football stadiums, there are no such assurances of satisfaction. It's a risk. And a failure to beat West Brom today would constitute a disaster. I really, really don't want my lovely girlfriend seeing me red-faced, hurling abuse at Heurelho Gomes as he allows a speculative Chris Brunt punt through his legs and then having to "there-there" me as I gently sob over a titantic Spurs meltdown.

So, Tottenham: please do me a favour today. Don't let my girlfriend see me become the wibbling, over-emotional idiot you occasionally turn me into. Show off for her today, strut about in the sun and humiliate West Bromwich Albion. Let her see that you're not an entirely pointless waste of my time.

PREDICTION: We'll win 2-1. Rafa will continue his renaissance. And Jermain might even see some gametime and celebrate with that 100th goal. We'll obviously make it needlessly difficult at some stage. But I'm confident today. I think.  

IN TOTTENHAM CONVERSATION WITH @spurs_ssp - PART 2

Time for Mr Such Small Portions and I to square off for Round 2. This time, Dave, let me put it to you:

2. We finish fifth. How big a disaster is it? And who will leave?

Dave: Charlie,

The fact that the words ‘fifth’ and ‘disaster’ are in such close proximity in a conversation between two relatively sane and almost completely sober Spurs fans is, in itself, quite extraordinary.

Until very recently the words most closely linked with Spurs and fifth would have been ‘miracle’ or ‘from bottom’.

That said, I know what you mean. It would feel like a disappointment. For a start, I think the top four was within our range this year. City remain wholly unconvincing, Chelsea wobbled badly and Liverpool never got their arses in gear.

But this is about the consequences of finishing fifth, not the reasons for finishing fifth. And what it all comes down to is trust. We have to trust that Levy and Redknapp (with Levy in the driving seat, of course) are true to their word and that we will not sell our biggest players to bigger clubs.

‘Sell’ is probably the wrong word. I don’t think we are, or even were, a club that sees its stars as commodities to be cashed in. We don’t tout them out unless we want rid or they’re obviously running down their contract with a view to a ‘free’.

The problem has been more to do with resisting bids from big clubs, clubs that turn the heads of our best players, players who then make it clear that they fancy the move. We ‘fail to keep’ rather than ‘sell’.

So this summer, if Man Utd, Barca, Inter or whoever make it clear they want Bale or Modric, then, even if we say no, what happens if the player wants to go? Are we big enough and convincing enough, without Champions League football, to make them believe they’ll win things with us? And that this season’s tilt at Big Cup wasn’t a one-off?

Personally, I think we have a year’s grace. Bale’s sensible enough to know that (at least) another season at Spurs would do him good. And I believe Modric when he says he wants this squad to stay together because he believes we’re capable of great things. I’d also believe Modric if he told me the tooth fairy is real and Jack Whitehall is a genuinely funny guy.

But, if (when) we finish fifth, then the next 12 months become the most important in our recent history. We have to spend the summer keeping the key players and adding, say, two more quality (not ‘squad’) players. Then the next season we need to put in a better league campaign than this year’s, or even last year’s.

Because Man U, Arsenal, Man City and Chelsea aren’t going away, and Liverpool are/will be back. We have to get used to and be part of a Premier League elite that sometimes qualifies for the CL and sometimes doesn’t – and when they don’t, they don’t panic, they don’t sell, they just redouble their efforts and get back the year after, and it’s someone else’s turn to miss out.

So, in a remarkably upbeat conclusion: no, I don’t think finishing fifth will be a disaster, and I do think we’ll hang on to all our major players. But I think what happens after that defines our short-mid term future.

(Oh, and if someone offered us £12-£15m for Van der Vaart, I’d take it, just by the by)

Charlie: Dave, 

 
My biggest concern about (potentially) finishing fifth? Manchester City. I was at Wembley this weekend for the Semi Final, and while nouveau-riche City haven't usurped their snobby neighbours just yet, it's coming. And as an aside, they boast the nosiest, most intimidating fan base I may have ever heard. Give that fearsome lot something proper to cheer about, and even Mario Balotelli might be inspired to jig about a bit. In short: allow City to park themselves up in the the Top Four bay this season and they may be immovable tenants. Add Champions League football to their potential signing sales pitch and suddenly Gareth Barry becomes Bastian Schweinsteiger and Pablo Zabaleta is Dani Alves.

And as you rightly say, United won't be vacating the Top Four on Fergie's watch, Chelsea will reload next year and Arsenal will most likely remain, as Henry Winter said this weekend, the Premier League "prettiest bridesmaid" for a while to come. It's imperative we barricade our door from City.

Dig deep for these coming seven fixtures and we stave off the inevitable for another year. A stay of execution we'll desperately need with Harry's England desertion a shoo-in next summer and half his stars surely eyeing his departure the perfect excuse for theirs. Big Cup re-qualification (not entirely sure this is a word...) means Levy touring Europe with his dog-eared cheque for £30million and lassoing a worthy striking prey. Another tilt at the big time means our Barrys and Zabaletas are upgraded.

But should we lose out this May, I'd love to hold your optimism for the intentions of our loveliest assets. And maybe you're right. After all, Bale may recognise one more year is required to hammer home his gigastar credentials in comfortable environs. Modric is trotting out encouraging quotes. We're split on Mr Van der Vaart's effectiveness, but give him a proper pre-season and a capable striker and he'll happily stop for another year. He loves being the big fish in the medium sized pond. Unless Fergie decides he requires another barrel-chested drifter who scores in bunches.

Instead, the danger might be the quality of the reinforcements. We lucked out on Rafa this past summer, Sandro was signed as a project, Gallas proved a trademark 'Arry transfer manouvere that came off and Pienaar's simply rekindled fan love for our wronged Nico. That's been the level our Champions League-bolstered recruitment drive. Lose Top Four status and will that standard dip? Probably not, but for Tottenham to progress, the fresh legs have to be a marked upgrade on our current standard.

Because one false move, and our membership to this new extended elite suddenly looks perilous. Should Bale actually decide he simply must rub Champions League shoulders with his elite peers each year, his starrier teammates will get twitchy. And without Bale, or Modric, we're a different proposition. We're one of those upstart sides systematically dismantled after a season in the sun. A gateway club for fledgling world-beaters. But batten down the hatches this summer and keep our toes crossed for serious Levy investment and we've got our extended elite VIP wristbands for another season. A 2011/12 Tottenham led by Bale, Modric, Rafa and Mr £30million Striker in 2011/12 is a Premier League dark horse. It's a season that - as you say, Dave - holds incredible value for our future.

I'm still unsure quite how loyal our stars will prove to a Spurs shorn of Champions League football. But I'm entirely certain this summer will define what sort of club we support for the next five years. Christ, we've made it all sound rather important, haven't we?

Do remember to check out Dave's imperious blog right here. We'll be back bickering later in the week for Part 3.

IN TOTTENHAM CONVERSATION WITH @spurs_ssp - PART 1

The internet's packed with blogs dedicated to Tottenham. But any savvy Spurs fan will have navigated their way to Such Small Portions by now. And if you haven't discovered it yet: it's fantastically well written and should be favourited immediately. You should also follow the blog on Twitter right here.

Its chief (Dave) and I often exchange Tottenham gripes on Twitter and enjoying his 140 character opinions, I suggested he and I go all Bowie and Jagger: a series of collaborative posts where we back and forth on a few pressing Spurs matters. So, here goes. First up...

1. Will we qualify for the Champions League? And if we don’t, do even want to qualify for the Europa League?  

Charlie: So, as José prepares for a El Clásico mini-series, Harry must sober up from his Champions League hedonism and focus on this little lot: Arsenal (H), West Brom (H), Chelsea (A), Blackpool (H), Man City (A), Liverpool (A) and Birmingham (H). 

Get a point more than City take off Blackburn (A), West Ham (H), Everton (A), us (H), Stoke (H) and Bolton (A) and we’ll have another beautiful summer fearing another band of plastic-pitched chancers in the Qualifier. Oh, and we get to keep our lovely stars.

But can we do it? Well, much like last season, it all hinges on a post-disappointment North London derby. Twelve months ago, we were hoodwinked by a no fear, no future and no-regular pay Pompey and all looked bleak and Europa League-shaped. This time – my cresting hatred for Heurelho Gomes aside – we face Arsenal all proud of our brave little European soldiers. Trump our neighbours for the third time on the spin, and suddenly: it’s on. 

Yes, we have an away day triangle of doom with Chelsea, Man City and Liverpool looming, irrespective of derby delights. But it’s about drumming up some momentum. Now distraction-shy and with Bale galloping back into full flight, there’s again every chance (shut up about Gomes, our strikers, and Rafa’s malaise, voices in my head…) we can extract one last run from this lovely Spurs vintage.

Now for the depressing bit. Their away games are a lot easier than ours (“Come on, um, Junior Hoillet!”) and even without Tevez (although popping on the confidence cap again briefly: his potential month long absence is terrific news) they could joylessly dismantle everyone like they did those tumbling Mackems. Or wither à la Anfield. Our mutual inconsistency simply hammers home how important it is for us to thunder on and only worry about them when we square of for Battle For Fourth II: Mancini’s Revenge. 

Personally, I think we’re going to do it. Enough players are returning to fitness and owe us some form. My favourite panto villain (and player of the season) Billy Gallas will drag the defence through the season’s business end. Big Tom and Luka are finally reunited for their crafty little ‘n’ large schtick. Bale owes his reputation (and us) a run of barnstormers. Van der Vaart needs just something – a goal, outrageous piece of arrogance, free-kick, anything – to come off for this funk to be lifted. And surely one of our meandering strikers will realise they’ll be in Moscow, Birmingham and the North East respectively should they not start milking our creative teat. Three out of four of these happen and we’re golden. 

And if we don’t? Then I refuse to be snooty about a year of Europa League purgatory. The monumental collapse required to allow Liverpool to vault us would be more damaging to confidence than travelling to Gent for a 4:45pm kick off live (ish) on ITV4+1.*

*Please don’t allow this pay-off to haunt me come August, Tottenham.  

Dave: your witness. 

Dave:  Charlie, you won’t be surprised that I don’t share your optimism.

I do share some sentiments: your increasing annoyance at Gormless, your begrudging but burgeoning admiration for Mr Gallas, your bafflement at the travails of VdV, and your belief that the Mod/Thud combo could be as good as any midfield pairing in the country. But the optimism? Nah, we’re fifth. We are, to slip into the vernacular of my daughters and their friends, so fifth.

We actually haven’t been playing very well for an alarmingly long time. After that FA Cup humbling by Fulham, we won three games in a row: Blackburn, Bolton and Sunderland. A decent run of results, but far from sparkling performances. We scraped home in every single one. 

Then we took three points from Blackpool, Wolves, West Ham and Wigan. That’s where we blew fourth. We won’t miss out by more than four points. And we should have got a bare minimum of seven from those fixtures. Instead, we got three. You’re a Partridge fan, I know (what right-thinking individual isn’t), so let me put it like this: that was our driving to Dundee in our socks moment.

The best we can hope for against Arsenal, I think, is a draw. And I tell you what, I’d absolutely take that if it was on offer. When was the last time we beat them three times in a row? Were numbers even invented then?

We also just look a bit tired. Key players, especially: Bale (first big season and pressure of sudden triple-A fame for a young lad), VdV (never looked fit from day one), Modric (carrying a whole team must quite a drain on such a slight frame). 

I thought the Stoke game was interesting. We managed to splutter into life now and again and remind ourselves how good we can be, without actually sustaining it – not over 90 minutes and certainly not over the remainder of the season.

So, it’s fifth. In which case, and here I do agree with you, bring on the Europa League. It’s the Champions League’s ugly little sister, sure, but we genuinely haven’t got the right to be fussy about exactly which major European trophy we deign to pick up, have we?

Chelsea and Arsenal fans would sneer, but fuck ‘em. They’ve won two European trophies apiece in their history. And do you think we’d care about them when we’re dancing through the streets of Bucharest (yep, I looked it up) next May? 

Oh, and yes, obviously I thought exactly the same thing after our semi-final defeat to Portsmouth last year...

Check in over the weekend for Part 2...

2010/2011: A MADDENING VINTAGE

Don't bother looking at the table today. Don't think about the three points combined we've just claimed from Blackpool, Wolves, West Ham and Wigan. Certainly do not worry about Rafael van der Vaart's funk, Gareth Bale's nagging injuries, the fact we've only won just two league games by more than one goal all season and definitely don't bother thinking ahead to when an American Football brand called "Under Armor" ensure everyone laughs at our Starship Trooper-style kits next year. Coincidentally, that'll be around the time Harry slips off to manage his nation. But don't worry about any of that this morning. It's Mother's Day, and they'll have had enough Tottenham grief over the years. 

And besides, is it all really that terrible? I was with one of my Charlton-supporting best mates on friday night, and he's one weary Addick. Now, I know the textbook, slightly awful "big club" argument: fans of smaller clubs have lower expectations, they simply appreciate the good times when they unexpectedly arrive, all that usual patronising twaddle. But Charlton have gone from Scott Parker, Darren Bent, Danny Murphy and Premier League solidity to banking on Dagenham's star striker hauling them out of League One in just five years. Even after City win today (bit of reverse psychology for you there, Mancini) we'll still only be six points behind with a game in hand at the business end of a season where we've vanquished both Milan clubs, pulled Arsenal's pants down at the Emirates and progressed to the point where "Tottenham Hotspur vs Real Madrid" isn't just a fanciful FIFA 11 exhibition fixture. But sweet Lord, they've made us earn those moments.

Now, will memories of my Dad squealing with delight within White Hart Lane's white hot cauldron as Gareth Bale blazed past Maicon be dimmed in future years because we squirmed out of the DW Stadium with an ill-deserved point? Is the moment Younes' header nestled into the corner now forever tainted because Fulham humbled us in the Cup? Will that odd sense of paternal pride seeing a creaking Woody repel waves of Milan attack in his first (and probably last) performance in 62 years and the giddiness felt during Aaron's Michael Owen-vs-Argentina-'98 slalom at the San Siro prove worthless as we couldn't score against West Ham in 180 minutes? The answers to all those long winded questions is ultimately "no". Sport is about creating lasting moments. Spurs fans, in particular, are wired to value one night stands of glory over prolonged, but less explosive, satisfaction. I wish our strikers could score against the league's scrappiest opposition and our defenders would concentrate on DJ Campbell's abilities like they do when facing Zlatan Imbrahimovic. It would be sometimes nice to support a more reliable team. But, as Mick Jagger sang, "You Can't Always Get What You Want".

Naturally, I'll be spitting impotent bile when we fail to reclaim a Champions League spot and face a summer seeing our best players wooed by those who'll still be hearing that lovely music on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. But I fancy there are still a few moments left in this season's tank to ensure 2011/11 will be considered a vintage campaign. A maddening, wholly inconsistent vintage, yes, but one we've all had a lot of fun with. Our propensity to play to the level of the opposition - and occasion, too - should stand us in decent stead down the huge game-laden home straight. And if not? We do our best to cling on to Gareth and Luka and retool for next year. Come August, we'll have every opportunity to put right those miserable afternoons at Bolton, Fulham, Wigan and West Ham. But it'll be a while before I get to hug my Dad as Spurs take apart the European Champions in the stadium he's been taking me to since I was seven. And that's sort of what it's all about.