Diamond Geezers, Episode 68: Lads, It’s Only Spurs
It’s an incredibly cold lunchtime in North London, only a degree above freezing as we arrive at White Hart Lane. The players are already fully warmed up, having had to push Chugger the last few hundred feet into the car park after his engine failed at the top of the Tottenham High Road, but it’s good, it keeps them humble, and means they’re all ready to go after we’ve arrived just ten minutes before kick-off.
Speaking of humble, I should also tell you that in the wake of some fan backlash, I am happy to report that I’ve offered Byron Bubb a new contract. It was expiring at the end of next season anyway, plus the Ultras who have been in touch are right: he is vastly underpaid for a man with such fantastically well-defined abs. His demands are reasonable and professional, much like the player himself.
Byron will start against Spurs, for sure. My team is unchanged for what feels like the tenth game in a row, but why would I change? We’re on an incredible winning run since I settled my squad and reverted to my trusty 4–1–3–2. The heady days of playing Roberto Baggio in the hole and sacrificing my defensive midfielder are long gone; it’s time to go back to what brought us to the dance.
Spurs have got a curious squad. They play a 3–5–2 with wing-backs, and it’s fair to say their back three is not to be trifled with: Stephane Henchoz, Dean Richards and Chris Perry are formidable at this point in their collective careers, and with former Diamonds loan favourite Paul Reid in reserve, Javan and Karadas will have quite a job to find space in between them.
In goal, Michael Oakes isn’t brilliant, and while Christian Ziege is certainly an excellent left wingback, it’s fair to say that Darren Anderton, who’s likely to line up on the other side, is not. Very much an attacking player, and no doubt still capable of causing trouble with his crossing, Anderton’s 9 for tackling and 10 for Positioning wouldn’t look great in Division Three. It is a weakness that Kalvenes and Bubb, who will combine down our left side, should be able to exploit, and I summarily inform the players to use the left flank whenever possible.
I expect that someone will play in AMC for Spurs, so I prep Marcel for an afternoon of shinpad splintering, while the rest of their team will probably contain Pär Zetterberg and Steffen Iversen but it’s hard to say; most of their squad have a decent number of games under their belts this season, so guessing Glenn Hoddle’s starting team isn’t easy. I decide it’s time to lead my players out onto the pitch to see what we’re up against.
Yep, it’s pretty much what I expected. Marcel the Destroyer has his sights set on Sergei Rebrov, and I also tell Andersson that he’ll be tasked with tracking Zetterberg into the hole behind him. I’m hoping with all my being that those instructions will allow Bubb and Hysén to overwhelm Simon Davies and make life miserable for the Spurs defence… as long as their dangerous attackers don’t get us first.
The first 19 minutes are uneventful, other than a Michael Oakes save from a long-range Hysén effort — both teams are feeling each other out, and the whole thing is remarkably even, like so many of our games against top-division teams. However, the 19th and 20th minutes are… eventful. First, Simon Davies lobs over a corner, Dean Richards collects it, but Kalvenes launches himself in with a perfectly-timed slide tackle — however, the loose ball bobbles to Steffen Iversen, and he needs no second invitation to strike high past Pinheiro to give our illustrious opponents the lead.
The players look dejected, and trudge back to the halfway line for kick off. With the Spurs players still celebrating, Tobias Hysén walks past Sergei Rebrov, says nothing, and the Ukrainian summarily punches him right in the mouth. Perhaps it’s an Eastern European greeting, I’m not sure, but the important thing is that our distinctly uncultured referee brandishes a red card for Rebrov, and Tottenham are down to ten men with 70 minutes to play.
I switch my midfield marking around so that Marcel is now laser-focused on Zetterberg, and Andersson is released to create problems for the Spurs defence; five minutes later, he puts a ball ahead of Byron Bubb, who skips into the area, shapes to shoot, but is taken down by Chris Perry! Penalty! Surely! WHAT!! HOW IS THAT NOT A PENALTY? REFEREE! My god man.
We’re largely on top now, but we can’t take advantage of being a man up before half-time. Spurs do nothing more coming forward, since Mahouvé has neutered Zetterberg and my centre-backs are doing a great job with Iversen and Williams, but other than a Javan header that Oakes saves, we can’t do anything more to change the scores. I have some fiddling to do at half time.
I do fiddle, particularly with Kalvenes, who’s not doing a brilliant job of exploiting Anderton — Mike Duff has been too quiet since I told everyone to put all their passes down the left, so I balance the team out a bit, and send the players back out for the second half. Surely with a man up, we can at least equalise.
We cannot. The Spurs defenders are unbelievable in the second 45, only allowing one further shot on target from Martin Andersson, but otherwise my fears about their back three being in the primes of their careers is brought into sharp focus. Led by the indomitable Chris Perry, they make 16 key tackles between them over the course of the game, and we just can’t break through, even with an extra man. What also doesn’t help is that having my commentary speed on Very Fast stitches me up towards the end; the game zips from 70 to 90 minutes with no commentary, and I basically sacrifice the opportunity to make any subs until it’s too late. It’s a nightmare, I’m upset, and we’re bounced out of our second cup competition of the season. Someone steal some jumper cables for Chugger on the way out.
I cheer myself up on the ride home by transfer listing the rest of my reserve players. I leave a few on the loan list, because I don’t want to lose all my backup players, but pretty much everyone else down there is available for transfer. Hull show an immediate interest in Daniel Talbot, Mattias Andersson and Victor Renner, while a few end-of-contract bids fly in for Billy McKinlay. It’ll be sad to see Mad Dog leave, but the rabies took him long ago, and it’s time for someone else to take care of his vet bills. Here’s what my reserves look like from a transfer point of view:
The interest in McKinlay is insane, and after not much thinking about it, he turns down offers from all over the world to agree a move to Premier League Fulham. I guess we’ll meet again next season, Mad Dog. Until then, though, he can bite the ankles of Division One reserve players and I’ll put a nice soft blanket down in the rec room for him to nap on.
On the other side of things, I make an end-of-contract offer for Argentinian U21 international defender Leonardo Tambussi. I already know he won’t get a work permit, but his contract demands are incredibly reasonable, and we’re always on the lookout for people who know how to mark and tackle, so he goes into the potential signings bin for later. I’m sure he’ll go the same way as Carlos Tevez, but it’s worth a shot.
The next day, Byron Bubb accepts my new contract offer, and he’ll stay with us until at least 2009. Well done Byron — you deserve the payrise. To be honest it probably should be more than it is, but that’s all the lad asked for, so that’s what we gave him. He did demand a minimum fee release clause, which I never want to give anyone, but it’s pretty good all things considered. If Real Madrid offer that for him, I guess we’ll take it.
It’s February 1st, the day after my birthday, and we’re off on the long trip to Sheffield to meet Wednesday at Hillsborough. They’re a solid mid-table team with solid mid-table players who we were lucky to snatch a 0–0 draw with earlier in the season after defender Steven Haslam pocketed Sir Les, and Roberto Baggio got sent off for punching Leigh Bromby. Neither will feature for us today, from the start at least — Baggio won’t be in the squad, and Sir Les is backup to the in-form Azar Karadas at the moment. The Norwegian is our second-best player on recent form, with 5 goals and 5 assists in his ten starts.
On the way to the game, I get some nice news about another of my fringe players…
Alex Farnerud isn’t always in the team, or even the squad, but there’s no faulting his application and dedication to the cause. As a result, I feel he deserves to be rewarded for his efforts, and he takes the place of Martin Andersson in my starting team. Andersson hasn’t been awesome recently, and could do with a break now that I look, so he drops out altogether and forgotten man Kim Källström returns to the bench. He’s not in the best of moods from not playing recently, but appears “willing to fight for his place in the team”, which is a jib I enjoy the cut of. I will consider restoring him to the side if he can impress me in some sub appearances. Kalvenes has also been bang average recently, so the equally crap Jamie Victory can have a go at showing me he deserves to stay off the transfer list. Neither of them are impressing me this season, and might both have to be phased out in the summer unless one of them starts turning up.
It’s a really frustrating half. We have the first six chances on goal, but all of them fly off-target, with Azar Karadas the main culprit. We put the ball in front of him inside the box constantly, but he can’t trouble Nicky Weaver in the Owls’ nets. However, we keep coming and coming at Wednesday, and eventually, someone has the decency to hit the target: in a lovely move, Mahouvé and Couto combine to get the ball to Hysén, he turns nicely and passes ahead of the forward-bursting Byron Bubb, who celebrates and justifies his £27m release fee with a rising shot past Weaver to give us a 1–0 lead after half an hour, which sees us through until half time.
Luckily, the second half is near-total bombardment of the Wednesday goal in similar fashion, and actually, my changes make a difference: I get sick of Karadas within five minutes of the restart and hook him for Sir Les, plus I swap Farnerud — who’s running around like a springer spaniel on a beach — for the calmer midfield presence of Kim Källström. The moment I’ve made the second change, we look more steady, and more likely — and it only takes two more minutes for the game to be made safe. Källström and Mahouvé play a neat one-two and send the ball down the right for Mike Duff; he wins a corner, Bubb pops it into the box, and Teddy Lucic leaps highest to power a header past Weaver for 2–0, and surely the three points.
Källström and Ferdinand then force Nicky Weaver into a spectacular double-save, before the game is finally put to rest: Mahouvé, who seems to have been involved in everything today, provides the assist for Meysam Javan to finally hit a low shot at Weaver that squirms under the Owls’ keeper for 3–0, and that’s how we finish. It’s a great performance and a fantastic win, after some anxious first half moments.
Post-match, my hand-wringing over finances is alleviated — not by a player sale, but by other results in Division One. The teams around us can’t decide who’s going to actually challenge us for the title, and as such, nobody is doing a great job. Wolves are plummeting with yet another game without a win, losing out to QPR, and while Forest have won, we are now — brace yourselves — 15 points clear at the top of the table.
The Premier League yawns for our presence. We’re coming, my darling.
I can’t have even a single moment of joy, can I?
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