I am remaining upbeat after this trouncing. Trying to put everything into perspective. We are still five points clear in the remaining Champions League spot, and this was our first back to back spanking of the season. Dickie Wright was in the sticks for his first League start in over a year, and more worryingly Stubbsey was no were to be seen. Joey Yobo filled his berth in the centre of defence, and Faddy stood in for the injured Watto, with Leon not be chanced, other than on the bench. It was obviously a lot of changes for Everton to contend with, and they were dealt a spanking and a half. Everton were not at the races. They started poorly and faded after that.

Tottenham took command early on, and their pressure paid dividends after only a quarter of an hour when new boy Dean Marney, beat Everton's back four to the punch, and lifted his shot over the on rushing Dickie. No probs we all thought. we will get a quick equaliser, but it was Spurs again who scored. After a long throw Everton's defence were as disjointed as I had seen them all season, and Zeigler got in between Hibbert and Weir to fire a low drive past Wright. It could have been much worse when Irish man Robbie Keane, also chipped Dickie, but watched his shot crash of the woodwork.

Moyesy's frantic reshuffling at half time was put on hold as Everton through Tim Cahill pulled one back, with five minutes of the half left. With a superb timed run, Tiny latched onto a Marcus Bent header to fire his volley into the Spurs onion bag. Oh how he reminds me of Bryan Robson in his hey day. Strong, aggressive, runs timed to perfection. Moyesy has surely done the best bit of business of last year, bring the best Aussie since Kylie to the club.

Half Time: Spurs 2, EVERTON 1

Everton were a different side in the second half. Spurs were on the back foot, as the Blues pressed for the equaliser. They did not convert the pressure into goals, and as sure as Liverpool are shite, Spurs got back their two goal cushion. It seemed to me that every bobble, deflection and mis hit pass landed at a Spurs players feet, and when it eventually landed at Mendes feet, he blasted the most powerful shot into Dickie's net.

After that it was back to one way traffic, as Marney and Keane took advantage of Everton's piss poor defending to make the score line more like a rout. Faddy pulled one back to make it 5-2, but with five minutes left on the clock, it was all to no avail.

I don't want to be to unfair on the lads, as most sides through a season will have shite games like that. Lets hope against Pompey on Tuesday we can strengthen our Champion League claims with a solid win.

Keep smiling lads, everything as I said isn't that bad. It could be twelve months ago. Struggling relegation, Board room bust ups. Rooney's ego to nurse, and no new faces on the horizon. Lets look forward this year to Board room harmony, cash in the back, new faces in January, and a European adventure to come next season.

My blue kipper Starman goes to Tim Cahill, and the only reason I can give you is that he was the best of a very bad bunch.

Full Time: Spurs 5, EVERTON 2

All Change - Triple Substitution

Jimmy Mac Hits A Daiseycutter to Score Everton's Second

Match Report from White Hart Lane

Blue Kipper Star Man

Tiny Tim

 

Goal At Last For Faddy

Excreta, actually
By
Mickey Blue Eyes

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Christmas and New Year’s holiday is a crazy time to play professional football. Alright, alright……………yes, I WOULD say that given the results. But I mean it anyway.

Despite the fact that I was totally clear-headed for the journey, despite the fact that it was a beautifully mild morning at both ends of the trip, despite the stoic and wonderfully humorous company – the very bedrock of Evertonians, not a whinger among them – I cannot recommend travelling in a minibus again. Claustrophobia can do your head in. New Years Eve had taken its toll of our usual numbers too. We were down to seventeen including the driver, Texyla, though strangely enough there were only a few obvious hangovers with bloodshot eyes and the mood to go with them.

Once in Lahndan we found ourselves excluded from the Antwerp Arms due to previous behaviour of various away fans, and a threat from the local constabulary to close the joint if any away fans were allowed in. So we walked around the corner and into another pub, wherein we were ensconced with a pint before the bouncer realised we were away fans. At which point he suggested quite amicably that when we had downed said beverage he might have to ask us to leave because the locals get shirty with visitors. We moved on to a club around yet another corner and under yet another railway bridge. Which was large, good and clean, well served by bar staff and occupied by almost all sensible Tottenham fans with whom you could hold a civilised conversation. Friends, never trust someone who has nothing but the ability to indulge his own loutish big mouthed lack of manners or straightforward human courtesy. In this case we didn’t have to. The home fans were great and full of good footy chat. It was a pleasure to be there as the outside temperature dropped as low as the clouds and chilled rain spattered the pavements. Not that is stopped a raucous bunch of kids playing The Beautiful Game out in the car park and kicking the living bejaysus out of each other to get possession of a very small ball. Ah, sweet bird of childhood.

Inside the ground and seated in the top tier for the first time it was possible to scan around and see how well the architect had dealt with redevelopment of an impossibly restricted site, and why Tottenham will surely have to move from White Hart Lane. A design feature is how big screens have been sensibly located out of the way at roof level behind each goal, thus enabling the seats to sweep right around without interruption. This seemingly obvious and welcome detail is ignored in too many grounds – including our own – but is both brilliantly commercially successful (more seats) and much easier to look at without interfering with the spectacle out on the pitch.

And, not to put too fine a point on it, a spectacle is what we made of ourselves in this match. It was horrific in the way we expected most matches to be this season, but which has proved so marvellously contradictory. Everybody played badly including full selected Wrighty, Joey and Jamie. Sandro even got ‘megged for one of their goals. It was an unmitigated disaster from first to last. At least three of the goals came from lousy defensive play, especially at the centre of the defence where once again Davey-Joey showed they don’t have the same chemistry as Stubbsy-Joey. Buggered if I know why, but there it is. They looked as if they had just met each other in the tunnel. But as I said, it was everybody, and it wouldn’t do to start blaming individuals. Collectively, we went to hell in a hand basket. And that isn’t taking anything away from Tottenham because they still had to deliver the goods in sheeting, freezing rain. And they did it consummately, and without Defoe. In the end it could easily have been seven or eight.

For once this season our Twin Slaphead centre mids went AWOL for virtually the entire game, and with Hibbo and Sandro both tripping over their own bootlaces at two minute intervals this left nobody minding the house, wherein dwelt discordant Davey-Joey and a quite stranded Wrighty with nothing to do but miss headers and clearances and crosses. Needless to say nothing got through to Marcus, anymore than it did to Jamie and Killa out wide. We mustered only two good moves all afternoon.

If Blackburn was forgettable and Charlton grotty, this was farcical. So let’s assume it is a seasonal “blip.” Every team has them and there’s no reason why we should be any different. If we are to reinforce this season’s hard won gains then we have to stop leaking points and goals and re-establish the spirit and organisation that got us there in the first place. How we do that is up to the players and Moyesy.

Which is why the Portsmouth game now assumes even more importance. A bad result then and injuries and suspensions might well prove even more telling than we thought they might. Let’s see who stands up to be counted, new signings or not.