Bale and Parker ruin Rangers

"Help me out lads, his Rubix cube is really starting to annoy me."

Super, swaggering Spurs took another step forward in Project Top Four or Project Top Three or Project Let's Finally Finish Above The Arsenal or whatever it's being called this week. On current form, the sky appears to be the limit with regards to our short term ambition.

Let's not patronise the team and say that Sunday's win was the realisation of a five-year long plan to get us playing to-die-for football and getting results with it - this side has been playing above accepted convention for several years now. This was no landmark performance or season-defining win. But, boy, was it fun to watch.

Whereas the all-conquering (not 'all', I know) Spurs of two seasons prior had pretty much all boxes ticked, this years vintage are dripping head to toe in genuine quality and yesterday's win was as close to a perfect team performance as one might hope to see at this famous old stadium. The front five of Lennon, Bale, Modric, van der Vaart and Adebayor produced some of the most slick and memorable football the Premier League is likely to see this year.  One touch moves, dreamy passes to split the defence in two and exceptional off-the-ball running to make the space, it was football from another plane of existence.

And none of it would have been possible without the outstanding Scott Parker, who has unquestionably proven to be the signing of the season so far. Harry Redknapp was moved to compare his performance to the great Dave Mackay and, whilst one quite rightly hesitates to throw such accolades around so freely, those that this blog has spoken to who had the privilege of seeing the great man (Mackay) in action were equally as wholesome in their praise of Parker.

While van der Vaart has been grabbing the headlines with his run of goals in recent weeks, this time it was Bale's turn to grab bit of the spotlight as he terrorised the QPR defence with his combination of direct, lightning quick running and lethal, instinctive finishing. His first was a peach of a shot - right out of the sweet spot on his left boot and arrowing at pace into the bottom corner, after a swift and decisive move that started with Friedel and travelled to Bale via Adebayor, van der Vaart and Lennon in about 8 seconds.

His second goal, Spurs' third, was worthy of a far greater stage than a Sunday afternoon against a recently-promoted side. Intricate footwork from van der Vaart saw him release to Lennon whole then combined with Bale to play a double one-two (if that makes any sense?). Lennon, Bale, Lennon, Bale, beautifully curled finish into the top corner. Magnificent.

This being Tottenham, of course there were negatives. The number of goals we scored in the first half was not proportional to the number of chances we fashioned and once QPR had nudged their way back into the game, we were looking worryingly dicey at 2-1. Had Bale not scored his second, there's no saying what may have happened. If there's one thing we could majorly do with improving, it's our goals-to-chances ratio. Against Wigan, we created enough to have a first half party and ended up clinging on for 2-1. Another goal or two before half time really would have killed the game.

And, since we're pointing out things that could be better, it's worth mentioning Adebayor. The Togolese Tyrant (that'll catch on, just you watch) hasn't scored since the brace against Liverpool and the longer it takes for him to score, the more of a concern it'll be. He's been in some excellent positions too and could have had at least two yesterday. The calls from Defoe loyalists have already begun - what they're ignoring is Adebayor's superb link-up play with his midfield and with van der Vaart. If he goes ten games without hitting the back of the net, then fair enough but, for now, he's part of a hugely successful formula.

So the run continues. 19 points from 21, six wins from seven and a confidence and swagger about the way we play. Tottenham's football is good enough to sit next to the very best Arsenal have to produce. It's as easy on the eye and the stuff that Manchester United are capable of. And it's as clinically effective and devastating as Manchester City's. So long as complacency doesn't become an issue, our tilt at the top four looks to be snowballing.

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Project Blackburn: the story of a Spurs away day

Rafa's 1998 Heemskerk Disco Dancing Champion medal was still very much at the forefront of his mind

Apologies for the lack of posts in recent days. It's been fairly non-stop ever since this blogsworth returned from Blackburn at 1am on Monday morning. Yes, that's right, it's not all dodgy Internet streams and crowded pub visits to watch games for me.

Project Blackburn has to go down as a success for the team - our record at Ewood Park is formidable in recent years but you do feel it always takes a lot of effort for us to pick up the points. And so it proved on Sunday. But pick them up we did and it's now five wins from six.

But enough about the team. Here's my official account of Project Blackburn:

Saturday, 9pm: Meet friend in London. Drink beers whilst watching Match of the Day and contemplating just how miserable a five hour drive back to London will be on the back of a defeat.

12am: Attempt to sleep. Mind races over the various ways in which we could lose the game.

Sunday, 6.30am: An early start for what we ridicule as a ridiculously early departure time for the supporters coach from White Hart Lane.

7.15am: The bus leaves at 8am and we're still stuck at Kings Cross thanks to the London transport system effectively shutting down. Panic for a bit. Decide to get a cab straight to the Lane.

7.20am: No cab is interest in taking us. They're all twice as miserable as we are and coming off the back of overnight shifts. Panic some more.

7.30am: Finally find a cab willing to drive the 6 or so miles to Tottenham.

7.55am: Board supporters coach parked outside the stadium. Find the only two seats next to each other, right at the back. It's hot, uncomfortable and a tight squeeze but no matter... we're on our way!

8am: Still haven't left yet.

8.10am: Still haven't left yet.

8.15am: Now we've left.

9.25am: Arrive at Newport Pagnell services for 45 minute stop. Breakfast opportunity is seized upon immediately. Start praying for a good performance from Sebastien Bassong.

10.30am: Okay, I'm not one to complain excessively but this music is so morose. It's hardly the kind of aural fare to get one excited about a long coach journey. How about a bit of Radio One or 6Music? Or even commentary of the Rugby World Cup final? Apparently not.

11am: Spot Villa Park as we drive through Birmingham. Plans for the next away day are born.

11.30am: Getting pretty bored now. At least the music's changed - it's now 90s disco on repeat. So glad my adolescance was in the 00's and not this godforsaken decade.

1.30pm: After what seems like (and what actually was) hours, we're at Ewood Park. It's an odd part of the world. The drive towards the stadium is like crawling through a sleepy village but then suddenly you're past the away supporter's pub (packed full of the Spurs massive) and it's there. It's a nice looking ground from the outside and nowhere near as small as it looks on TV.

2pm: Pie and a pint. This is what we've come for. The choice of pies is typically Northern. Friend chooses Chicken Balti, which smells foul but he insists is glorious. I go for the interestingly named 'meat and potato', which makes no attempt to say which meat it actually contains. By the time I've finished it, I'm still none the wiser. Was it worth it? You betcha.

2.30pm: Friend has a bet on a 3-0 Spurs win and Modric to score first. His optimism scares me but then I suddenly come around to his way of thinking - we've been in top form recently and these lot are bottom of the league. We should do a number on them. But this is Spurs and things are never straightforward. Meanwhile, Balotelli puts Man City one up in the Manchester Derby and Crouchy scores for Stoke against Arsenal, raising a massive cheer from the Spurs fans in the stadium.

2.50pm: Take our seats in the away end, just behind the goal to the left. Again, it's a nice ground. Noticable amount of empty seats in the home stands. Blackburn fans actually in the ground are as silent as a tomb. Spurs are making all the noise and it's an exceptional atmosphere and a privilege to be part of... w-w-whats that!? Man City are 3-0 up!?

2.55pm: Players come out. Bale straight over to the away section to applaud the fans. Legend.

3pm: Kick off and we immediately look in control.

3.15pm: City have won 6-1. *passes out*

3.16pm: Adebayor feeds Walker who absolutely burns past his man down the right wing. His cut-back is steered home by Rafa and we're one to the good. Pandemonium in the away end. We'd started well so that goal was definitely coming.

3.30pm: We're still bossing it. Oh wait, they've scored. We're not anymore. A high ball into the box towards big Chris Samba comes off a combination of Kaboul, Parker and Samba himself and Formica is all alone in the box to ping it home. Ripples of applause from the home fans, who still don't appear to be in the mood to give Steve Kean or his side any support.

3.45pm: Half time and after the equaliser they've been in the game a lot more than we would have liked.

4pm: Players are back out for the second half and Paul Robinson makes his way over to the away end where he recieves an absolutely incredible reception from the Tottenham fans. The look on his face suggests it really means a huge deal to him. Loyalty in football is remarkably scarce but to see a player retian the same bond with the fans even after he's left the club is perhaps the most heartening aspect of the day.

4.10pm: How people can devalue van der Vaart's value to the side is mystifying. After a period of pressure, Assou Ekotto manages to feed Rafa 20 yards out, who curls his first time shout past Robinson and puts us back in front. He celebrates right in front of us. Adebayor feels the need to excessively point to the name on Rafa's shirt, as if to remind us who'd scored. Erm, cheers Ade.

4.30pm: The Blackburn aerial bombardment has begun and we're keeping them out so far, even if we do look a bit anxious under the high ball. Samba is the man causing us the most threat and every set piece has his name on it. Redknapp brings on Danny Rose for the disappointing Lennon - a substitution that I'm still trying to comprehend to this day. We were crying out for Sandro to help Parker shut out the game but he remained seated. I'm sure there was a good reason for it all...

4.35pm: Still haven't figured out the reason but should probably concentrate on the game - we're hanging on here.

4.45pm: Defoe on for Rafa with minutes to go. Tough for Defoe to only get a couple of minutes of game time but, until he makes himself un-droppable like Rafa has, there's not much that can be done.

4.49pm: Final whistle goes just as Defoe was winding up to score from halfway after Robinson had gone up for a corner. It must be noted that despite the pressure we were under, we looked remarkably composed towards the end. Defoe and Assou Ekotto disappear straight down the tunnel. Redknapp applauds the away fans for a good 15-20 seconds. Walker, Modric, Bale, Parker, Kaboul and Adebayor walk closer towards the away end to register their applause, which is warmly recieved by the Spurs fans.

5.05pm: We're back on the coach and ready to go. If things go well here, we could be back in London by about 9.30, which would be awesome.

Some time between 5.30pm and 6.30pm: We get stuck in awful traffic around Manchester. The coach temperature has tripled (probably not that much) since the morning and there's even less room to move. We drift in and out of sleep and pray for it all to be over soon.

7pm: It's still not over. It's pitch black outside. We have no idea where we are. This is awful.

7.15pm: Someone decides it's a good idea to put on the 2002 classic 'Ali G Indahouse'. Raises a few laughs from me but it's clear no-one else onboard is watching it. Shame. The scene where Charles Dance reads out the joke budget to the House of Commons is worth its weight in gold.

8.30pm-ish: The film ends. I don't know who long I've been asleep for. I don't know where we are. This has been a pretty hellish trip so far. Why can't they have one of those inflight maps you get on planes where it tells you where abouts you are and how long is left?

9pm: Stop at Newport Pagnell again, despite the fact everyone's really keen to get home. Our plans to get the 10.07pm train out of White Hart Lane is dead. Our plan to get the 10.37pm train is in serious jeopardy. It dawns on us both that we probably won't get home till at least 12.30am. And we've both got work early the next day. Why the f*ck did we choose to go to Blackburn?

9.30pm: Okay. This is beyond a joke now. I've never been a fan of long car journeys but this is something else. We have zero idea of how far out we are and it's ridiculously uncomfortable. And, to cap it off, there's about as much atmosphere on the coach as there is at an Arsenal game. Everyone's tired, miserable and desperate to get off.

10pm: Yep, we're not going to make the 10.37 train.

10.35pm: Finally pull up outside White Hart Lane. It's been a five and a half hour journey. We contemplate just how appalling it would have been had we lost.

10.40pm: Rock up at White Hart Lane station and prepare to wait 25 minutes until the next train to Liverpool Street. Discuss how much of a good day it was, despite the coach journey, but there's a suspicion that we're both sick of the sight of each other now, having spent the past 26 hours in each others company.

11.07pm: Train leaves WHL. Dead empty. We can seen the end of the tunnel but the harsh reality is that we're still at least a couple of hours from home.

11.30pm: Reach Liverpool Street and bid each other farewell. I enjoy my mate's company immensely, especially on football trips, but if I'd had to spend one more hour on a coach or train with him, there would have been violence. And I'm reasonably sure he's feeling the same way about me. We both resolve that our next away trip will be no further north than the Midlands and that we'll give serious consideration to taking the train.

11.55pm: Arrive at Waterloo and discover there's no train home for another 25 minutes. I've spent 80% of this day waiting for things.

Monday, 12.20am: Leave Waterloo. Eyes have long since started to glaze over.

1am: Home. What a day. It's been a 19 hour effort but well worth it. Spurs weren't at their best but they had more than enough in them to see off Blackburn, an indiactor, if it was needed, of how strong we are these days. How often in the last ten years can could Spurs have gone away, not played near their best and still won? What's more, that's 16 points from a possible 18 and we're up into 5th. With a plethora of winnable games on the radar, the next month is a giant opportunity. And all of this without a single mention for Bill Nicholson - on the seventh anniversary of his passing, what a way for Spurs to honour the great man's memory.

Another three points next week please.

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Fog on the Tyne

Tiote and van der Vaart were convinced that, despite their differences, they could dance their troubles away.

League wins at St James Park are as rare for Spurs as days where Harry Redknapp doesn't provide the press with a story-leading quote. If you remove the great Timothee Atouba's fantastic winner from the 1-0 steal back in 2004, our away record against Toon would look fairly terrible. As it is, it still doesn't exactly strike fear into the Barcodes. Therefore, if you'd have offered fans. 2-2 draw before the start of play yesterday, many, if not all, would have been grudgingly happy to take it.

When you throw in the circumstances of the season, it looks an even more hard-fought point. This, remember, was a Toon side that was unbeaten and sitting pretty just where we'd ourselves like to be - fourth spot. And let's not kid ourselves into thinking they didn't have the better of the game. There were more than a few hearts in mouths when Fabricio Colocinni swung his right leg at that chance in the dying moments.

Then there's the opposite way of looking at it. It's perfectly reasonable to think that a team such as ourselves shouldn't be happy with anything less than three points, having taken the lead twice. And if we're ever to amount to anything, we're going to have to learn to beat Newcastle in their own backyard.

But, all things considered, a point will do alright, cheers. Five wins on the bounce may have led to a few 'title-winning-form' quips from this blog but we'll just have to do with four. And having played the Manchester clubs already (you don't remember the results? Best not to look it up), we have the added bonus of a nice long stretch of games that are eminently winnable. On paper. Which means we won't.

Onto matters on the pitch and it was unfortunate to see Scott Parker have perhaps his first relatively poor game in a Spurs shirt. He unleashed his inner-Palacios by coughing up possession and failing to execute his 'tactical' fouls on a regular basis to control the midfield - perhaps he would have prospered in partnership with Sandro and not the inexperienced Jake Livermore.

There are serious concerns that our rock of the last month - the King himself, Ledley King - will be getting reacquainted with the physio's table in the coming weeks. Captain Fantastic was subbed in the first half with a muscle strain, one of those injuries that sounds fairly innocuous to you or I but to the world's most fragile centre back, not so much. Redknapp seems to think Ledley will be missing for 'some time' (a month? Longer?) and with Dawson and Gallas still missing, it'll be a big test for Kaboul, who's looked awesome in recent weeks, and Bassong, who, erm, hasn't.

Van der Vaart caused a minor earthquake by becoming the first Spurs player to score a penalty since the Cuban Missile Crisis. The penalty was won by Adebayor, who hasn't scored now in three games - don't panic, this can't be a Crouch-like drought. Can it!? Complain that VDV unbalances the side all you like but the simple truth is he does grab plenty of goals - enough to be considered a striker. Could we really leave someone like that out?

Defoe further complicated that particular conundrum by coming off the bench and grabbing a spectacular second, proving in equal measure that he can produce a bit of magic when required and that he can't play in the same side as van der Vaart. Sort it out boys, you're both too valuable to be left out. Also, as a side note, didn't he look miserable when he scored? This blog remembers the days when he used to go mental for a back post tap in. Now he can barely raise a toothy grin. Maybe he's not enjoying his football as much as we may think? Maybe it shouldn't matter seeing as he's on £50,000 or so a week?

Football. Bloody hell.

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Carroll on the way up

A strong feature of the early part of Tottenham's season has been the use of various youngsters in our non-Premier League campaigns. Anyone who was at Hearts away and Shamrock Rovers at home would have been impressed by Andros Townsend's electrifying contributions. Harry Kane might have missed a penalty in that 0-0 bore-fest against Hearts at the Lane but his general performance in that game and away against PAOK Salonika demonstrated that he might be able to make something of his career at Spurs. And Jake Livermore didn't disgrace himself when he suddenly became an important part of the side in the absence of other midfielders for the first few games.

How many of these youngsters eventually become first team regulars at Tottenham is entirely up for debate. But if the ripples of fan approval on social networks and supporters forums is anything to go by, then young Tom Carroll can expect some fruitful years ahead in the centre of midfield.

Deployed first against Hearts at home and then in games against PAOK, Stoke and Shamrock, Carroll's assured performances in midfield have earned him quite a few plaudits and concerns over his slight frame are easing with every game. What's more, he proved he had a bit of fortitude about him during the Carling Cup final defeat to Stoke when he stepped up and slotted home a penalty during the shoot-out.

He even made the bench for a Premier League game against Wigan, confirming, perhaps, that he is held in high regard by Redknapp and the coaching staff. He might appear to be lightweight - his 5ft 7 height would lend support to that theory - but the success of players such as Xavi, Andres Iniesta and Paul Scholes has proved that height is not the be all and end all. And besides, Carroll is just 19 years old - he's got a bit of growing to do yet.

Whilst it's perhaps unfair to throw so much pressure on these young players and hype them up to insurmountable levels, it's nice to finally have a crop of homegrown players to get at least a little bit excited about and Carroll is one of the brightest of the bunch. There's a fantastic interview and feature on him for The National, an English-language publication in the Middle East (hardly a Hello! feature but it'll do).

A choice quote from the boy, on his penalty at Stoke:

"I knew if I missed we would be out. The crowd were whistling and booing but I just tried to blank it out and focus on what I wanted to do with the pen. The keeper went early so I hit it firmly across my body. It was a relief when it went in."

It's interesting to hear him talk about his experience on loan at Leyton Orient last season and his clashes with Arsenal in the FA Cup (Carroll was pitted against the enemy at the Emirates for a replay after he helped earn a brilliant draw at Brisbane Road). He also mentions how Peter Crouch helped welcome him into the first team before the big man departed for Stoke and how Tom Huddlestone, very much a senior player these days, offered him some wise words of advice before he took to the pitch for his debut against Hearts.

He's nailed a penalty in a lengthy shoot-out, he's held his own in front of a hostile Greek crowd and he's had marginal success against the Arsenal. If those aren't ingredients for a promising future, this blog isn't sure what is.

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North London is Lilywhite

Benny was confused. Had Rafa not seen how good his wife looks!?

It's not so much a changing of the tide anymore - the dam has been broken. For the two North London clubs, the direction of the rivalry has largely been one way over the past 15 or so years but no longer. Spurs beat Arsenal 2-1 on a blazing hot Sunday afternoon at White Hart Lane and they didn't do it by raising their game and Arsenal lowering theirs: this Spurs display was worse than it has been in recent weeks and Arsenal rolled out their best work in the same amount of time. Yet, Spurs took the spoils. This was a symolic afternoon.

Before this blog gets all cocky, let us say now that for as much as we might like to feel we're now the superior force on the Seven Sisters Road, only at the end of the season, when we've finished above them, can we launch into such platitudes. For as dire as they are at present, they've been top dogs for so long it's going to take something definitive to officially dislodge them. But we're on our way, make no mistake.

Let's discuss the game, though a play-by-play analysis wouldn't serve much use as any fan reading this now will know exactly what happened. What's that you say? Scott Parker? Well, he's f*cking incredible. Much of our North London Derby downfall in the past has been our completely inability to compete in midfield, largely thanks to Messrs Viera, Fabregas, Nasri and, erm, Jenas. But with Scotty in the middle of the park, doing the work of about three players until Redknapp brought on Sandro to help out, Spurs have a competitive edge that they've scarcely enjoyed in recent years.

Parker was everywhere. Plugging holes in midfield, snapping at the heels of the opposition, retrieving the ball from deep and working it forward intelligently when needed to. I've said it once and I'll say it again: he might just turn out to be the bargain of the season. To get all this in one player for just £5million is seriously tidy business. That he kept us in with a shout all by himself until Sandro was finally sent on to help him says it all. Little fuss, no extravagance, maximum productivity.

Was it a handball for Rafa's first? Your point of view will depend entirely on who you wanted to win. Personally, this blog thinks it hit him on the shoulder, if anything (*braces for abuse*) but there are plenty out there who'll scream at the injustice of it all (looking at you Wilshere).

Walker's long-range missile was a hit worthy of winning such a high stakes game. The speed at which he was running makes the fact that he hit it so sweetly and kept it on the ground a minor miracle. Szczesny probably should have got behind it more but such was the ferocity of the strike and the late swerve on the ball, it was a seriously difficult save to make. His defensive work still needs a bit of improving (a season in the first team ought to teach him a great deal) but there's piles of excitement about this one. He might just be about to join an exclusive group of young English talent that we brought from other teams and then turned into first teamers (see Matt Etherington, Tom Huddlestone, Aaron Lennon, etc).

As is often the case when Spurs beat Arsenal, the reaction of their fans is one of the most gratifying highlights. Particularly those with a strong Twitter presence, such as Wilshere and Piers Morgan. Morgan's assertion that Modric was 'useless' showed all you need to know about the man's grasp on intelligent football discussion, whereas Wilshere's litany of tweets claiming that van der Vaart should have been sent off and so on were eerily and comically similar to the conversations this blog has had with friends of an Arsenal persuasion. Always blaming others, never themselves... Spurs fans aren't exactly perfect but at least when things are going wrong, we're willing to admit it's our own fault.

Perhaps the most vertigo-inducing aspect of this win (a fourth on the spin for Spurs) is the comparative lack of significance being attached to it. When we beat Arsenal last season and the season before that, they were triumphed as landmark wins, with Levy commissioning DVDs and commemorative mugs quicker than you can say 'squeezing every last penny out of the fans'. This year, the win has been celebrated as a North London Derby win should be but there's more of a relaxed attitude towards it. As if to say, 'we beat them again, so what?'. Not in all my years of supporting Spurs has this been the attitude surrounding Arsenal.

It's both odd and hugely rewarding in equal measure. We beat a team that, at the moment, looks inferior to us. And instead of banging on about it, the prevalent feeling is: what's next?

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