Everton 0-3 Spurs: Four Tottenham Talking Points

1. The Formation

If you had caught a glimpse of AANP during the opening exchanges of this one,  you’d have spotted him viewing proceedings with eyes narrowed and brow furrowed; and if on the basis of the narrowed e. and furrowed b. you’d inferred that he was having a dickens of a time trying to work out the formation adopted by our heroes, you’d have been bang on the money. Which, ironically enough, is precisely what AANP was not bang on when trying to decipher that set-up.

The first thought that floated between the AANP ears was that Our Glorious Leader had gone with two right wingers at the same time. Which, if true, would have been Thomas Frank’s prerogative, of course. He’s the shot-caller, after all. If he wanted to go down the Not-Typically-Done route then he had every right. As long as it works, went the AANP take, then do your damnedest.

But while I was lustily supporting this little tactical quirk, it dawned on me that whatever our formation was, it wasn’t one featuring two right wingers. The next notion to spring to mind was wing-backs, but this did not seem quite right either. Spence, perhaps, was adopting wing-back-like poses on the left; but out on the right, Johnson didn’t really appear to be signing up to the “back” part of the wing-back arrangement.

And what, I asked myself, was Kudus? Or perhaps more pertinently, where was Kudus? Because for what I assumed was a Number 10 sort of role, he seemed to be drifting out to the right an awful lot.

Anyway, the main takeaway of all this was that it’s a good job I’m not a manager, as I’d have spent most of that first half simply goggling at the lilywhite formation rather than doing anything useful.

With the dust settled, I guess it was a 3-2-4-1 sort of get-up, in possession at least – with Spence and Johnson up the flanks, and Simons and Kudus inside them. Frankly, the label matters little at this point, for the gist is that it ought to have provided a few more passing options whenever we advanced up the pitch, as well as the standard defensive stability of the Palhinha-Bentancur double-act.

I suggest that it “ought” to have provided more passing options going forward, because in practice the quick passing routines didn’t really register. Not that it mattered too much today, given that our set-piece sequences were immaculately choreographed, and all defensive parts in fine working order at the other end. But I nevertheless noted, with a sigh that was two parts patience and one part disappointment, that despite a Spence-Simons-Kudus-Johnson line supporting Kolo Muani, we remained a little light on the old whizz-bang when trundling forward.

2. Set-Pieces

One can’t have it all, however, and to criticise in the slightest a 3-0 away win at a mighty imposing estate would be pretty off. With two goals nodded in from set-pieces this had the Frank fingerprints all over it.

I view set-pieces much as I view technology, in that it ought to supplement rather than replace the honest sweat and endeavour of the good souls involved, and our heroes used it marvellously today, supplementing things like billy-o.

There was the delivery, for a start. The Porro corner for our second contained a level of spite that ought really not to be allowed before the watershed. It absolutely fizzed into the area, to such an extent that had it not been converted one would really have had no option but to launch an independent enquiry to understand why not. Mercifully, Van de Ven had the good sense to give the ‘keeper a knowing shove and then angle his head appropriately, but while it was the Dutchman who drank in the plaudits, the AANP glass was raised to Porro.

While the delivery for the opening goal (courtesy of Kudus) did not necessarily carry quite the same level of menace, it being swung a tad more gently towards the far post for Bentancur, I did nevertheless applaud its accuracy. A yard higher or lower and the whole operation would have crumbled in its infancy. Kudus, to his credit, dropped the thing at the designated coordinates, and at the designated time and – critically – at the designated height.

Interestingly, although that aforementioned D.H. was, specifically, head height, Bentancur took it upon himself to improvise a little. And there was no harm in that at all. If a little innovation was good enough for Thomas Frank when doodling his formations, then it was good enough for Bentancur when arriving at the back-post. One might well have spotted Bentancur mouthing the words, as he shimmered towards the back post, “Just because it’s called ‘Head height’ does not preclude me from using my shoulder, what?”

The moment of improv. worked swimmingly, and VDV’s head-angling got its first taste of action. And let’s face it, if the t’s are crossed and i’s dotted on set-pieces as meticulously as that, then there is a little less pressure on the front five to string together too many slick passes.  

3. Danso

As mentioned, VDV knew a good thing from approximately two yards out when he saw one, and full credit to him, but with Romero again missing – that innocuous pre-match ‘knock’ of last week proving a dashed sight more sinister than we had initially been led to believe – I once again adjusted the monocle and subjected young Master Danso to feverish scrutiny throughout.

And once again – for the third time in a week, in fact – the fellow emerged with a laudable report card. One doesn’t have to search too hard to find a fish of lilywhite persuasion who will fold their arms, tilt their head and remark sadly that the absence of Romero deprives us of some incisive passing from the back, the undertone being that we might as well all pack up and go home in the absence of such line-breaking gold. AANP, however, is a more traditional sort of egg, brought up to believe that a defender’s purpose in life is to defend, and it was with this anthem on my lips that I meted out the approving nod and slapped the approving thigh each time Danso unveiled another of the defensive basics.

I think I heard within the post-match burble that Danso rattled off more clearances than anyone else in the vicinity, and while I couldn’t put a hand on the Bible and swear to it, I certainly would not be surprised. He seemed fully committed throughout to the basic notion that Ball Near Goal was Bad, and Ball Away From Goal was Good – and frankly it was an attitude that I could get on board with.

He might not necessarily be the sort of fish we want manning the helm when Europe’s elite come to town, but for an hour and a half in the pouring rain in Everton, he put the fevered mind at ease.

4. Vicario

A congratulatory word also for our resident back-stop, who had seemingly been convinced that the final whistle at Monaco still had not sounded, and consequently just carried on where he left off there.

Two second half saves in particular were of the absolute highest order. Admittedly I say that from a position of general ignorance when it comes to this goalkeeping lark, but to stick out a paw from point-blank range when the opposition chappie is pulling off an overhead kick seemed to take some doing; while the save from a shot that took two deflections really did have me purring in admiration. Reflexes, one was inclined to murmur, maketh the top-notch save.  

My views on Vicario at corners remain a little more mixed – for every successful punch to the edge of the area there seemed also to be one rather sorry attempt to propel himself forward that was aborted midway through when he ran into a jungle of bodies. However, this was a day to salute, again, the fellow’s fine shot-stopping, and those two second half saves were essentially worth goals.

A second clean sheet, on the road, within three days, is not to be sniffed at, and certainly provides a useful base upon which to build a hale and hearty future; concerns about creativity can wait for another day.