What Peter Crouch will add to Tottenham

My thoughts on Peter Crouch have been made time and again so I won't bore everyone with how little I think he'll add to our squad.

I will, however, indulge in the one reason I'm a tad happy with the fact that we've spent in the region of £10 million on a player we once deemed not good enough to play for us.

Abbey Clancy is now a Spurs WAG. Rejoice.


Welcome back to the Lane, Peter.

Sleeping with the enemy

Patrick Viera. This has got the feeling of quite a contentious issue.

Harry's keen. And he's not afraid to say it either. Looking at it from a purely footballing perspective, one can understand why. Being 33, it would be polite to say Viera is in the autumn of his career. But despite his advancing years, he's still turning out all action performances for Inter.

Those in the know say he still has the legs. He's still got the eye for a pass and is still capable of marshaling a midfield to the tune of his game. And yes, Sgt. Wilson is more than capable of doing all that and more. But a bit of experienced cover doesn't hurt. If we could get him for a economical price, he'd be a worthy signing - a similar big-name-with-revered-past signing to Edgar Davids a few years ago. Davids may not have been world class in his time at the Lane but his presence galvanised the squad and he brought crucial experience that fired us to our best season in recent memory.

The sticking point, and it's a biggun, is that Viera is ex-scum. Not just an ex-Arsenal player but a pretty central figure in their history. He was their captain, their inspiration, their heart and soul. He was and possibly still is a symbol of everything we've come to loath and dispise. Could we as fans really accept him in a Tottenham shirt? He'd no doubt be committed to the cause - he's a professional after all. But would people be comfortable with him strutting his stuff for Spurs? And what effect would the possible discourtesy from the fans have on him?

According to Harry, Viera is very much interested in the move. The price could be the only stumbling block in the eyes of the board. So should negotiations proceed smoothly, we could well be seeing one of the finest midfielders of his generation playing his trade at the Lane next season. Ordinarily this would be a cause for celebration and buoyancy. In the case of Viera, fans could be approaching the deal with trepidation.

What's the view then? Would we accept Viera amongst our ranks or treat him with irreverence?

Jermaine Jenas: Responsibility and me

The Spurs midfield man gives his thoughts on the coming season.*

It’s a big season for Tottenham. Just like last year, and the one before that and the one before that. I mean, sure we didn’t really have the best of times last year but once October came everyone knew things would be ok because it’s that time of year that we’d be getting a new manager to galvanise us for a game or two. As unofficial vice-captain, I made it a personal mission last year to get the lads playing well and consistently. And I led by example with my goal at the Emirates. If anyone hasn’t seen it, it’s on the Sky+ planner at home and I’ll be happy to let people round.

One of the things I’ve tried to develop at Tottenham is my maturity. As a pretty senior figure and, don’t forget, unofficial vice captain, it showed that the boss (or bosses) had a lot of faith in me and I knew I had to repay them at some point. This year is the year I’ll be looking to do that. I know I’ve said it years before this one but that was different. There was always something happening like me playing badly or me not being in the side.

A few people say I’m never going to progress as a footballer. Bet they haven’t played and scored at Wembley! Not that it’s a big deal or anything but it was on for England against Switzerland on February 6th 2008 and in the 40th minute. I don’t try and overplay my achievements - the way I see it, there’ll be plenty more to come. Probably.

Anyway, Harry (the latest boss) put me in charge against Barcelona which meant I got to lead the team out and everything. I tried to play the role of leader as best as I could and tried a few encouraging cajoling at the boys throughout the game. I think it went down well and I could tell they were impressed with my leadership skills. A few of them even mentioned something about Patrick Viera and something along the words of ‘not getting in the side’. Doubtless, they were comparing me to the French master in terms of our midfield prowess and tireless work rate.

So I’ll be trying super hard this season to make the step up from good to great. I really feel confident I can do it this time - before I was young and overly ambitious. This is the year. You’ll see. And if I don’t then the coaching staff will have patience in me because I‘ve earned it. When does my contract here run out again?

* - Of course he didn't - he was busy being captain for the night.

Jake Livermore

I'm not one for sporting hyperbole. I find it raises people's hopes unneccessarily and makes people look rather stupid. But tonight, Jake Livermore, in what surely must be one of his greatest ever days, grabbed an equaliser for Spurs against Barcelona in the Wembley Cup as we gained a 1-1 draw.

Today, Livermore has managed to sign a new deal at the club, keeping him here until 2011, play at Wembley Stadium against the European Champions and score the equaliser with his first touch, placing him momentarilly in the hearts of Spurs fans up and down the land. Not too bad a day, really. Like I said, would be best not to get too excited.

To hell with it, he's going to be the brightest thing we've had since Hoddle.

Double (Kyle) vision

Stop the press: we've finally signed someone.

Not just someone, mind - we've signed two players. Oh yes, we don't do things by halves here at Tottenham. In a tame, by usual Spurs standards, summer so far, we've finally done what we do best and laid signature to cheque and forked out a small fortune for a new recruit or two.

But, this is no ordinary signing, not at all. In Kyle Naughton and Kyle Walker, we've effectively gone and signed two identical players. Consider: they're both full backs, they're both young and they both came from Sheffield United - they might as well have the same bloody name... hmm. It's a unique feat to sign the same player twice and Harry must be proud of himself for making such a nonsensical signing before the fans really started to lose faith in his transfer wheelings and dealings.

Throw in the five existing and competent full backs we already have and the situation becomes even more clouded. Walker is reportedly going back to Sheffield on loan for a season but is Naughton really expected to break into the first team? You'd think not, especially seeing as our defence is so tight right now we're setting records and everything. If it's cover Harry's looking for then so be it. But surely a centre back is what's needed? Ledley King's knees ain't getting any better.

Taking cynicism out of the equation for a second, we've picked up two very good and promising players here. That they broke into the Blades first team just last season and were immediately touted as Premier League players is tantamount to sticking a 'come-and-get-me' sign on the backs of their shirts. But, and this is a recurring theme with Tottenham, do we really need them? One can understand that Walker has been snapped up for the future, hence the loaning out immediately scenario. But for the reported fees (£10 million for both!), it makes you wonder if the money could have been better spent.

Still, in Harry we trust. There's a long way to go in this transfer window and we should be confident he's got the ideal striker lined up. I just pray it's Klaas Jan Huntelaar and not Peter Crouch.

All time favourite players: Paul Robinson

Goalkeepers are an unfashionable lot. Take a wander around your local park, find the nearest youthful game of football being hastily organised and see how many kids are actively volunteering to go in goal. Unless you live near some kind of FA approved goalkeepers academy (this must exist, surely), you wouldn’t find that many. Put simply, being a keeper is not something most children of the game aspire towards. The young keepers of today have an innate desire to play between the sticks - apparently, it’s a natural thing to want to fling yourself about defying both gravity and the opposition’s attack.

Growing up supporting both Tottenham and England, I’ve had precious few goalkeepers to grow fond of. David Seaman was the England stopper for the majority of my childhood - a good keeper, yes, but a Gooner no less. And throughout my teenage years I was treated to the nerve-shredding, heart attack-inducing spectacle that was and still is David James. I still swear blind that when James came rushing out to clatter Thierry Henry in Lisbon at Euro 2004, my life flashed before my eyes.

At Tottenham, I was treated to a plethora of mediocre goalkeepers. Ian Walker was an extended incumbent and never really instilled any genuine confidence. Playing in a team with an English spine of Sol Campbell, Darren Anderton and Teddy Sheringham, Walker never really rose to the levels needed to be one of the best and complete the foursome. Neil Sullivan came with an excellent reputation and didn’t do a bad job by any means but never really set the world alight, or at least the borough of Haringey. And Kasey Keller? He did well to wrestle the number one spot from Sullivan but he never really convinced as a long term prospect. And he looked awful in those short shorts.

What I would have wanted from a keeper at that age and probably at my age now is someone young, committed and passionate. Someone with authentic quality, to be more recognised for their brilliant feats than their embarrassing mistakes. Someone who the crowd would love and feed off and who could have a hero-like relationship with. Think, Peter Schmeichel in his early Old Trafford days.

As it turns out, I was quite lucky. In 2004, Tottenham signed a great deal of players but one of them would have a prolonged impact on both myself and Tottenham fans sitting in the Paxton and Park Lane ends for the next four years. At just £1.5 million, Paul Robinson was an absolute steal. Known as an excellent young keeper and understudy to Nigel Martyn at Leeds, Robinson came to Spurs as part of Jacques Santini’s new era. Whilst Santini lasted only a few months at the Lane, ‘Robbo’ went on to make over 150 appearances in a Lilywhite shirt and was a fan’s favourite in every sense of the phrase.



As a person and a character, Robbo was one of the greatest. The bond that he formed with the fans was both significant and long lasting. It’s no surprise that he was afforded a generous reception at the Lane when he visited as an away player in November 2008. At the end of the match, he threw his gloves into the home fans, as he did regularly back when he played for Spurs. It was a congenial gesture and only served to reinforce the general high esteem in which he was held by the Tottenham faithful.

At Tottenham, players can be fan’s favourites for cult reasons alone and not ability - the current ardour for Roman Pavlyuchenko is hardly garnered from the Russian‘s lethality in front of goal, or lack thereof. Robinson was an exception. At his best, he was a phenomenal goalkeeper and certainly up there with the best in the league and possibly Europe. Within a few months of joining Tottenham, he was single handily repelling a rampant Chelsea at Stamford Bridge. The combined might of Didier Drogba, Arjen Robben, Joe Cole, Frank Lampard and, er, Mateja Kezman were time and time again thwarted by Robinson’s outstretched hands, legs and any other part of his body. Chelsea boss José Mourinho was moved to make his famous ‘they parked the bus in front of the goal’ comments - surely Robinson deserved more of The Special One’s credit?

It was one of a number of good early season performances from Robinson as Tottenham’s defence uncharacteristically let in very few goals. He was quickly promoted to England’s number one, after yet another calamitous performance from David James, where he would occupy the spot for the next three years, encompassing the 2006 World Cup in Germany. If Robinson was shining domestically at Tottenham, then he then had the platform to impress on the international stage.

After the apprehension of having such an error prone national keeper, Robinson provided mass relief with a series of solid, no fuss displays. The media even afforded him something of a love-in, astonishing given the fact that he wasn’t a big four player. Robinson’s concentration was extolled as England played a number of games against weaker opposition with attacks about as threatening as a fluffy white cloud. It seemed as though England had found their next generation goalkeeper, the man to finally replace Seaman and to lead them for the foreseeable future.

Robinson kept his place secure at both club and country but was possibly in need of a spectacular display for England, having made a solid start rather than an explosive one - a testament to the strength of the defence, no doubt. There was one stunning save against Wales in Cardiff in a World Cup qualifier. England, putting in a limp display, were crawling to a 1-0 win when John Hartson aimed a fierce header low to the bottom corner of the net. Robinson, finding his inner Gordon Banks, went full length to his left and plucked the ball out with his fingertips. If his critics wanted evidence of his class, this was surely it. But tougher tests were needed.

He was guaranteed to get his test when England lined up to play a friendly against world heavyweights Argentina in Geneva - a game that would end up being Robinson’s finest at international level. On an entertaining night, he kept out shot after shot as Argentina turned up the pressure. One diving stop to deny Juan Roman Riquelme lives long in the memory and Robinson turned in a performance of absolute brilliance to keep England in the game. After Michael Owen had dramatically snatched the win in the dying moments, Robinson was commended for his game and had cemented the position of number one.

So there I had it. The goalkeeper that I and Tottenham fans had long since dreamt about. Nothing could go wrong. He had suffered no slumps in form since he joined and had completed two seasons of pure excellence. There were two consecutive mistakes in October 2006 against Manchester United (he let a tame shot spill right in front of Mikael Silvestre, who scored) and Arsenal (came for a cross, flapped at it and presented them with an equaliser) but apart from those blemishes, Robinson was the wall with which Spurs launched their ill-fated (pardon the pun) assault on fourth place. Fifth would have to do but Robinson and Tottenham were widely acknowledged as one of the best keepers and teams respectively outside of the big four.

And then Croatia happened. And everything went catastrophically wrong.



Go on YouTube and type in ‘Paul Robinson England’. Sadly, you’ll find a multitude of versions of the same thing. That miss-kick that would go on to cost him his reputation, his England place and his time at Tottenham. The mental effects of that night in Zagreb were irrevocably seared into Robinson’s consciousness and he found it nigh on impossible to shake it off. I’ve long since advocated that the whole incident wasn’t Robinson’s fault and now that it’s largely forgotten that doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind.

Robinson was criticised for his ’06 World Cup campaign by parts of the media, who claimed that he looked indecisive on crosses. It seemed as if the country was looking for someone or anyone to blame in the wake of England’s spineless performance throughout and Robinson was being lined up in the crosshairs of every top four loving, tabloid journalist with a six figure salary. Now, more than ever, he would be under pressure at international level. He was even made liable for not performing better in the penalty shoot out that knocked England out. If Portuguese keeper Ricardo was saving penalties, why wasn’t Robinson?

Months later, on that fateful night in the Croatian capital, Robinson gave a magnificent performance. With England 1-0 down, he kept them in the game with some of his most inspired goalkeeping and was giving fans hope that England could get something from the match. But, when Gary Neville’s tame back pass hit a bobble in the pitch, agonisingly close to where Robinson’s boot was swinging through to clear, the result was inevitable. Although listed as Neville’s own goal, Robinson assumed the blame and the press had a field day. Now, more than ever, they could really have a good go at him, holding him responsible for the goal, the defeat, the Gulf conflict, the economic crisis of two years in the future. Despite being by far England’s best player that night, he was hung out to dry by those allegedly in the know and he’d never fully recover.

It wasn’t his fault. I’ve heard idiotic fans tell me that they chanted ’You let your country down’ at him during a Tottenham game and few things have ever enraged me more. If people out there cannot see that that ball deviates from the pitch right before it should have hit Robinson’s boot, then they need certification. It’s one of the unluckiest circumstances I’ve ever witnessed in football and I have nothing but sympathy for the endless barrage of abuse Robinson was to be subjected too.

It got to him. It got to him good and, slowly but surely, errors began creeping into his game, both with England and Spurs. The indecisiveness that he apparently suffered at the World cup inflated into full blown nervousness. The lack of command of his area grew worse and worse. His sublime shot stopping remained but he started allowing meek, long range efforts to creep past him. Gone was the confident, assertive Robinson of old. Here was one riddled with self doubt and unsure of his ability. The crowds around the country picked up on the theme, bellowing as he made his run up to take long kicks, in an attempt to induce a similar mistake.

Robbo’s problems only increased. He palmed a Bernd Schneider cross straight to a forward against Germany at Wembley, gifting the visitors a goal. Comparisons between the mistake and Seaman’s back at the last England game at Wembley were made. Robinson kept his place, tenuously, but went on to spill a shot straight to Roman Pavlyuchenko (whatever happened to him?) in a crucial game against Russia, who tapped in. As the vultures circled, it turned out to be the final straw at international level. Robinson was left out of the side for the crucial match with Croatia at Wembley, where, as it happened, Scott Carson made his own high profile howler.

The jitters continued at Tottenham. More and more comments were being made about his weight as he appeared to pile on the pounds. The lean, fit Robinson of his early Spurs career was a thing of the past as people started attributing his poor form to his apparent weight problems. If Robinson read the papers, they wouldn’t have done his confidence much good at all.

As Spurs suffered an indifferent season, losing manager Martin Jol, Robinson’s form continued to veer towards the worrying. He was still pulling off saves but he let in bucket loads of goals. The 6-4 against Reading was certainly entertaining but didn’t do much for anyone’s nerves. Against the same opposition days later, Robinson caught a high cross but fell over the line and a goal was given. Once Spurs had fought their way in front in the game, he spilled a weak shot and Reading snatched an equaliser and a replay. Patience in the loyal keeper was wearing thin.

Robinson was dropped by Spurs in favour of number two Radek Cerny in January 2008. Cerny’s initial form was promising and Robinson, for the first time in four years, was consigned a place on the bench. He missed out of the famous 5-1 thrashing of Arsenal and was widely expected to leave when the summer transfer window arrived. It seemed certain that the stay of one of Tottenham’s most loved players would be all too brief and names started being thrown around the media as to his replacement. Joe Hart. Shay Given. Heurelho Gomes. None of them felt right. None of them were Robinson.

But he was to have one last hurrah in a Spurs shirt. A game before the Carling Cup final, he won his place back after a string of low profile Cerny errors. It seemed as if Juande Ramos was desperate for Robinson to regain his form and get back between the sticks. Robinson finally got the chance to play in a cup final for the team that he had grown so close to and he rightfully took his place behind Ledley King as Tottenham marched out onto the Wembley surface to face Chelsea in the final.

Early indications were that it was a mistake. Having had a free kick go just wide, Didier Drogba got an identical chance and curled it into the net, with Robinson completely unmoved. Spurs fans groaned in unison. But, as the game wore on, Robinson became far more assured. Spurs equalised and took the game to extra time. Robinson was barely needed as they took the game to their opponents, eventually taking the lead. For the remainder of the game, Spurs launched a gargantuan rearguard with Robinson’s goal under constant siege. The big man held his nerve and didn’t let down the hordes of expectant fans, hanging on his every move. In the dying moments, Saloman Kalou found a yard of space and struck towards goal but Robinson, alert and active, stuck out his foot and blocked his shot. He then saved at close range from Joe Cole as Chelsea pressed and pressed.

When the final whistle went, the unconfined joy on Robbo’s face was as rewarding as seeing it on any other player. Alongside King, here was a long serving player who genuinely cared deeply about the club and was clearly over the moon at winning a trophy with them.

Robinson continued to make elementary mistakes between then and the rest of the season and it was decided that it would be in the best interests of both parties if he moved on. He was transferred to Blackburn in the summer of 2008, in an exodus of players from White Hart Lane and so ended a four year love affair between himself and the club. Gone was the keeper that we had all admired so much and relied upon when things were at their most dramatic. For four years, we had become accustomed to the familiar sight of Robinson in goal, throwing himself horizontally to claw the ball away from the net or rising majestically above his defence to claim a high cross or passionately imploring his defence to do as he says.

His distribution was also stellar. I recall a game against Dinamo Bucharest in the UEFA Cup in 2006, which we led quite comfortably. Robinson held the ball after an opposition corner and immediately spotted Jermain Defoe on the run near the halfway line. He launched the ball about 70 yards down the pitch, straight into the path of the diminutive striker. It was a pin point pass and Defoe fully capitalised on the space provided by Robinson’s vision and slammed the ball home to put us 2-0 up. Robbo would do it again on several occasions as he became not only a fine keeper but an attacking asset as well.

Speaking of attacking, you didn’t think I’d forget his potency in front of goal, did you? Having already scored in his days at Leeds, a bullet header in the last minute, Robinson achieved the unique feat of scoring again and what a truly magnificent moment it was. In a season where he’d been a little under pressure, he came face to face with a rival for his England position - Ben Foster, who was in goal for Watford. Robinson dispatched a long goal kick down the ground, which bounced on the edge of the opposition area. Foster, thinking his defender would clear, misjudged it, came rushing out and the ball bounced over him and into the empty net. Cue unrestrained delirium around the whole stadium, with the crowd almost engulfing Robinson such was the noise reverberating inside the Lane. Surely it was one of his best moments in football and something fans who were at the ground should cherish forever.

(Apologies for the poor video, it was the only one I could find. Irony of ironies, it‘s a Arsenal station!)



These days, Robinson is free of the nerves that inhibited his performance in the latter stages of his Tottenham career. He plays freely and confidently up at Blackburn - not in the spectacular vein that he achieved whilst with us but solidly enough to become a dependable keeper again. He has even been rewarded for his good form with an England recall, albeit as a backup. It’s ironic that ‘Calamity James’ is back in goal for England and Robison is again his replacement in waiting. It’s my opinion that Robinson is still a far superior prospect than James and always has been.

For all the downheartedness surrounding Robinson’s Tottenham departure, he really is a player we should remember with relish. He made me believe that, after a succession of ordinary keepers, Spurs were capable of having a brilliant one. He made it slightly fashionable to be a keeper again - I know I certainly tried my hand at it once or twice; I was awful and shortly gave it up but I digress. Robinson was very much in the mould of a classical Tottenham player: classy, full of ability and an entertainer. And it’s unlikely that we’ll have a player to bond with quite like him for a while.

Wherever his career takes him, he should know that he will always be welcomed at White Hart Lane. A true gentleman to the last, Paul Robinson is and always should be a Tottenham hero.

Wilson Palacios and the Twitter debate

Had a conversation about Twitter with a Spurs mate tonight, in particular the possibility of the 'Wilson Palacios' that we were both 'following' being actually legitimate or not. Twitter does seem to be the 'in' form of social media for celebrities and sportsmen these days and there's every chance that the person behind this account is actually Sgt. Wilson himself - the posts stop around the date that it was announced that his brother had died and he mentions a lot of Tottenham related activities such as training, studying his performance on Match of the Day and last season's trip to Ukraine to play Shakthar Donestsk.

Still, it's a bit too jokey for me. As you'll see from his posts, a lot of them tend to make reference to his extremely physical and powerful style of play and, whilst that may sound normal enough, you just get the feeling that whoever is writing it is trying to be comical, particular with Palacios' physical stature. Have a look at the postings:

- yesterday we win but play football on sunday is not soulful. in england maybe football is more different than i imagine.10:25 PM Mar 16th from web

- also I have been thinking - at wembley i only watched and i think i saw art. a run by lennon has both geometry and aesthetic. is art 8:37 PM Mar 3rd from web

- did not play in donetsk and illegal to play at wembley. i need action as dreams of football only do not make me wake happy.8:35 PM Mar 3rd from web

- Ukraine food is satisfying. Lot of meat. 225 press pushes then sleep. Emu oil pungent yet soothing.11:54 PM Feb 18th from Tweetie


- leaving for Donetsk in Ukraine. it's minus 1degree centigrade. cold weather affects my joints so i packed emu oil. 2:51 PM Feb 18th from web

- I watched the england versus west indies today. Hondurans would be perfect at cricket. we have the right temperament.10:35 PM Feb 15th from web

- i am watching a tv show called secret millionaire on more4. did not know england had poor people like we do at home.11:34 AM Feb 11th from web

- not much to do in essex but chigwell has more culture than wigan. soon i'll see london its community of central america. eating steak. rare.8:32 PM Feb 10th from web


- training was satisfying today. I stayed to work on neck muscles. when I head the ball it must travel hard like a coconut from the slingshot.4:34 PM Feb 10th from web

- slept for 13 hours last night and woke up hungry like a lion. if only I could find some honduran tamales in Essex. 10:36 AM Feb 10th from web


- doing left thigh exercises as felt imbalance yesterday. anyways gives time to catch up on regional geopolitics. 2:18 PM Feb 9th from web

- day off so cold shower then 3 mile snow run. porridge in Guinnness for breakfast before upper body work-out. 10:41 AM Feb 9th from web

- Studying my performance on MOTD2. Interceptions/tackling strong but distribution uneven. Tin of corned beef with Guinness before bed.11:08 PM Feb 8th from web

If it turns out that they're not real then they're pretty damn funny. The thought of Palacios trying to ensure his headers are like 'coconuts from a slingshot' truly is something to treasure, whilst surely only he would attempt 225 'press pushes' before bed. It's the disjointed English like that that makes me feel that the Sgt. could really be behind all of this and that he is indeed fully aware of his reputation as a tough tackling monster.

I'm also lucky enough to be 'following' Jonathan Woodgate, Harry Redknapp and Jermain Defoe, of which I reckon Woody's is real, Harry's is clearly a fake and JD's is another maybe. Check out the links below.

Wilson Palacios
Jonathan Woodgate
Harry Redknapp
Jermain Defoe

The jury's out on this one. Twitter fans: Thoughts, comments? Any other Tottenham players out there that might be legit?

Harry Redknapp: A day in the life

The Tottenham manager’s day to day exploits are leaked to the public in this diary extract.*

Two points eight games. Daniel rang this morning. It woke Sandra up and she weren’t best pleased, let me tell you. He asked me if I was serious about that Downing bloke. I said to him ‘Listen Daniel mate, I honestly think we need a left footer to go out there on the wing and do what Lennon does. Might play Luka through the middle.’ He took a few seconds - it’s tough for Daniel, he’s not really a football man like I am or Jamie is. Jamie's a good kid. Daniel told me he’d put in another call but not to get too excited. I heard him mutter something along the lines of ‘those f*cking greedy Teesside b*stards, you know Harry?’ Turns out I didn’t know.

Pre-season soon. Important to get the lads on the straight and narrow as soon as possible. Last thing we need is any of ’em coming back having put on loads of weight (Tommy) or coming off a three week bender (Ledley). I told Ledders last year, after that unfortunate business with him and the bouncer, that it was important he started acting like more of a role model for the younger lads. They look up to him, y’know? I think he got the message; although I kept hearing him asking Keano if he wanted to make his pre-match Lucozade ‘Irish‘, whatever that meant. They’re bonding together as a group.

Got a lot of journo’s asking me about transfers and players leaving and that. Been getting a few questions about Robbie recently, which, frankly, is pissing me off a bit. I spoke to him just the other day and I asked him categorically if he wanted to leave. He said to me, ‘Gaffer, have you heard those rumours? I’m not going to bloody Sunderland whatever Quinny offers me. Things here haven’t got that desperate yet.’ I told him he was a vital part of what I’m trying to achieve at this club. Besides, I’m confident he’s aware that even if he does bugger off, he’ll be back for half the price come January.

Was looking at the fixtures the other day - it’s going to be bloody tough. Some big, big games coming at the start and a potential few banana skins as well. Still as long as we do better than when that Spanish geezer they had was in charge. I can’t remember the actual number of points they had when I joined or the number of games they’d played but I think it was something like… no, I’ve lost it. It’s immaterial anyway - why go on about it?

What matters most is getting results this season and with our squad I think we’re capable. So long as we retain our best and brightest we should be okay and both Aaron and Luka came to my office yesterday and double swore on their lives, turn around and touch the ground, that they weren’t leaving. Strangely, they both had their hands behind their backs during the meeting - formal, polite young men, they are. Best keep Sandra away from ’em.

Two points eight games.

* - not really. I made it up.

The Croatian love-in at the Lane

No signings yet, which is a surprise given both our history in the transfer market and our manager. Still, it's not all quiet on Tottenham front - well, the club website at least. Vedran Corluka has been a busy boy, taking time to launch a generous review of his compatriot and Spurs team mate Luka Modric.

"It was difficult at the start because it was his first time
playing in England and nobody in the team was playing well at that point. When the team started to play well he showed
why he is one of the best young midfielders in the world. Hopefully he will be
even better next season because he knows how other teams play against us and the
surroundings, so it will be a lot easier."

So Luka's only going to get better. Shame that. It means Sir Alex will be after him very soon, probably quicker once we refuse to immediately bow down and let them have Aaron Lennon. It'll be his way of getting revenge, you see.

All time favourite players: Dimitar Berbatov

It was October 2006. The England cricket team were gearing up for a 5-0 thrashing at the hands of Australia; Kim Jong Il's North Korea were panicking the world by planning their first nuclear test; and Tottenham were 1-0 up away to Besiktas in the infancy of their UEFA campaign. In a cacophonous, cauldron of an atmosphere in Istanbul, Spurs had performed extremely impressively but were in urgent need of a second goal to kill the game off. Having suffered a distinctively stuttering start to the season, fans could have been forgiven for biting a fingernail or two.

In the 63rd minute of the game, something happened. Something that both decided the game and decisively began a relationship between player, football club and fan alike. Dimitar Berbatov, a £10.9 million Bulgarian summer signing for Spurs, had scored just the one goal since arriving at the club and, although the panic sirens weren't being sounded yet, there were whisperings of slight discontent.

Suddenly, Robbie Keane released Berbatov with a clear enough path to goal. He had a defender to beat but Baki Mercimek wasn't ideally positioned and was struggling to keep up with the tall forward. As he advanced into the opposition area, Berbatov dragged the ball back onto his left foot, evading the desperate sliding tackle from the defender. With just the keeper to beat, the stadium waited for Berbatov to fire an expected effort towards goal with his left peg. And, as if to confound everybody watching, he dragged it back onto his right just as the keeper came for him, leaving him with an empty net.

A millisecond later and the Bulgarian was gratefully accepting the praise and congratulations of his team-mates and I was left staring at my TV in South London in total and utter wonderment. It could have been a number of things: the fact that we had gone two up in a tough away game or Berbatov managing to get another goal perhaps. But, looking back now, it was the sheer intelligence and flair of the goal that did it. The way that he seemed to be about five steps ahead of everyone else, the way he had total confidence in his own ability, the poise and serenity that he demonstrated in calmly putting the ball away. It was staggering to watch and left me certain we had a serious player on our hands.



Nearly three years have passed since that night, that goal. And Dimitar Berbatov is still in my eyes the best player I have ever seen in a Tottenham shirt. I say this as someone who never got a chance to witness the greats of yesteryear: Hoddle, Chivers, Blanchflower, Gilzean, etc. Berbatov played in an era where I was young enough and impressionable enough to be completely taken with him and I make no apologies for that. Had I the years on my side to have seen Tottenham teams of the past then perhaps my opinion would differ. But one can only work with what he has seen and, by that logic, Berbatov was and is the finest I've ever seen. Using the same logic, my father, a man who brings years of Tottenham experience to the table, also rates Berbatov as one of the most superb he has seen.

It's the touch that does it. That delightfully elegant first touch that other players would kill for. Berbatov's ability to control a moving football is something that astounds. They used to say Hoddle could land the ball on a coin from 40 yards. Berbatov could probably be blindfolded, spun around a few times, pushed into an open space and still effortlessly bring the ball down and still have a good idea of where best to play it. Ability such as this is paramount to Berbatov's play. His brilliant use of a ball and the time and space that his control can create is priceless. It's one of the reasons he formed such a superb partnership with Keano - they would feed off each other, Keane running into the space provided by Berbatov's vision and class. Berba possesses perhaps one of the best first touches in today’s game.

See for yourself and prepare to be amazed.



Once Berbatov had begun scoring after that night in Turkey, there was no denying how good he was or could be. Tottenham had undoubtedly picked out an absolute gem. At Bayer Leverkusen he had potential but at Spurs he was getting progressively better. Together with Keane, they formed one of the most deadly strike partnerships in the Premier League. Feared by the division and coveted by the top four, Berbatov was hot property and he fired Tottenham to a second successive fifth place finish in the league under Martin Jol.

Inevitably, once the success came, so did the vultures. The media began publishing rumours of top four interest in Berbatov and subsequent unrest from the Bulgarian. It seemed as though they were desperate to see him flourish at somewhere, anywhere other than Tottenham. The extent of the truth is unknown. Berbatov stayed the summer and prepared for his second season as Tottenham looked to crack towards the top four themselves. No-one could have predicted the unbelievable series of events that unfolded at N17 in the opening months of the next season.

Tottenham suffered a dreadfully poor start. Bad results led to bad morale and an ill-feeling around the squad. The hacks inevitably seized upon negative Spurs stories like moths to one big flame. Berbatov is unhappy - he wants out! He’s desperate for a move to a Champions League club! Berba and Jol in massive fallout! Berbatov to be unveiled at Old Trafford in January!

Of course, the majority of it was bullshit. But it was clear that Berbatov wasn't entirely happy at the situation and as we continued to struggle, it became painfully evident that he was a moody little so and so. A player with undoubted talent but with little passion, heart and determination. He even looked lazy, like he couldn't be bothered at times. It was masked by the exceptional standard of his play but, in spite of him scoring goals and playing brilliantly, he was highlighted as a frustratingly lethargic player.

The incident up at Newcastle was a painful moment. Tottenham got spanked 3-1 and Berbatov, on the subs bench, appeared to refuse to warm up at the request of Jol. Jol latterly dismissed the 'argument' as a misunderstanding but the overriding feeling was one of Bulgarian unhappiness. When Jol and Tottenham parted company soon after, Berbatov was reported as telling the Dutchman that if he (Jol) left then he would go with him. Reports of their relationship are sketchy - it's not clear whether they respected each other or not. But after Jol left, Berbatov ended staying till the end of the season under Juande Ramos.

It was worryingly inevitable that he'd be on his way come summer however. So Tottenham fans sat back and hoped to fully appreciate the genius at work for as long as they had him. And, to his credit, he continued playing like a champion. Scoring some stunning goals and providing unfathomable assists, Berbatov was quite simply brilliant. It was a depressing realisation that the better he played, the more appetising he looked to his rich suitors. Still, it would have taken a cold heart not to be thoroughly staggered by his four goals against Reading in the 6-4 rollercoaster, surely his best display in a Lilywhite shirt.



Man United were constantly linked with him and when the season ended, so began a summer of cat and mouse between United and Spurs. When Berbatov eventually left Tottenham, on the last day of the transfer window, it was an oddly satisfying moment. The furore he had caused in the early stages of the season were highly damaging - Ramos refused to play him in the first three games, believing him to be a 'negative influence' on the squad. As points were thrown away, fans patience rapidly decreased and when Berbatov made his way to Manchester that day, illegally or not, it brought an end to a painfully prolonged transfer chase. There was a sense that it was finally over and that we could move on with our own season, albeit with Frazier Campbell.

Berbatov had good enough season last year with United. He didn't score that many goals, nor did he stand out like he did at Tottenham. Surely a case of big fish, little pond and vice versa. Berbatov's talent is undoubted at United but his languid style is picked upon by unsatisfied fans and his penalty miss in their FA Cup semi final with Everton led to a barrage of momentarily angry fans. Still, he won the league in his first year, was part of the Carling Cup winning squad and played in a Champions League final. So you tell me if he's moved on to better things or not.

There's bitterness regarding Berba around Tottenham - many people find it difficult to let him go and wish him the best. Indeed, I was one of the fans booing and offering derogatory statements his way when United came to the Lane in December (although I voiced my own discontent whilst watching on Setanta). The way he left may have sealed his fate amongst the die-hards in the White Hart Lane faithful. The manner of his departure and his demeanour at the time left a bitter taste in the mouth. However, it was widely accepted that he was meant for better things than Spurs. Sure, it was great having him for a couple of years. But here was a player so blessed with unbelievable skill, it would be criminal to hold him back.

It took a while for this to hit me. I was angry. I was upset. I went through a period of utterly despising Alex Ferguson and United for what they had done. But when the dust settled and Berba started scoring a few up north, I felt it best to let the hatred fade away and simply appreciate just how phenomenal he was. Hindsight is indeed a priceless commodity and Berba had more good days then he ever did bad.

That goal against Charlton at The Valley where he demonstrated the outrageous control to knock it past his man on the halfway line, spin through 180 degrees, chase after the ball and curl it past the keeper to put us in front. The Carling Cup semi final (the first one) against Arsenal at the Lane where he scored a bullet header and celebrated with the crowd like a local hero. That volley up at Middlesborough where as the ball was played in it seemed absurd to go for goal, let alone with his first touch. Berba certainly had his champagne moments at Tottenham and they were goals, assists and touches that I'll never forget.

Having already mentioned the goal against Besiktas, I'll plump for another favourite memory. It's one that I'll be eternally grateful to him for and one suspects that 40,000 odd fans inside Wembley that day will too. One thing about Berbatov's apparent 'lazy' nature that never bothered me was his penalty taking. Where most players favour a long, powerful run up or a severe, fierce strike of the ball, Berba's approach was simple. Jog up, take a split second to see which way the keeper is going then side foot the ball into the net. It was a touch nerve racking at first but when he started regularly putting them away, the doubts subsided.

At Wembley in the Carling Cup final, with us a goal down to Chelsea, Berbatov chose the perfect moment to write his name in the Tottenham record books. The second the ball came up off Tommy Huddlestone's knee onto Wayne Bridge's arm, you could tell he wanted the penalty. He placed the ball down and stood calmly a few metres away - an island in a sea of nervous fans and players. Didier Zokora couldn't watch. I couldn't watch. Thankfully I opened my eyes just in time. Berba stepped up, sent Petr Cech the wrong way and slotted the ball in, drawing us level in the game and sending Spurs fans around the country into unashamed euphoria.

It was the perfect moment - a fusion of goal, celebration, significance and atmosphere. Berba pumped a determined fist towards the Spurs fans behind the goal and roared passionately towards them as if to encourage them to cheer even louder. Surrounded by celebrating players, Berba seemed alone, somehow - a saviour for the long suffering Lilywhite hordes so desperate for a fleeting glimpse of success and silverware. Tottenham, as if they didn't know it already, had found their hero even if he was to depart in the coming summer. That we went on to win the game makes the goal all the more sweeter. My memories of Berbatov proudly hoisting the trophy aloft and enjoying the medal-laden lap of honour are some of the most poignant I have of the Bulgarian.



Whatever becomes of Berbatov is of no consequence for Tottenham. I chuckled when rumours abounded that we'd enquired as the availability of re-signing him, in the wake of Robbie Keane and Jermain Defoe returning to the club. Berbatov is a world class player and deserves his shot at winning big trophies. The way he conducted himself in his departure from us was admittedly disgraceful but one cannot deny him a season or two at the top. At United, he doesn't shine week in week out like he did for us. Perhaps the plethora of talent surrounding him makes it harder for a player to stand out in the way Berbatov has shown he can.

It's easy to be resentful about his time with us. But instead I choose to cherish the two the years when we had the privilege of having him at our club. His grace, timing, poise and elegance made him a quite beautiful player to watch and I wait patiently for the chance to witness a player of similar ilk to once again grace our famous football club.

Meanwhile, Berbatov can rest safely in the knowledge that my grudge with him ended long ago.