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From My Seat: Tottenham Hotspur (H)

Words fail to capture such excitement, disbelief, relief and just sheer joy that stayed with us until the whistle went.

Last home game before Christmas and 36 thousand or more of us turned up to witness a game that is traditionally close, with Spurs being the only opponents to witness our manager being roundly booed from four corners of the ground in the past for what fans thought was a negative substitution. Not bad for only once in over 10 years and today I believe we showed how far we have come in that time considering the money situation at both clubs being miles apart. The burning question being: Can the club in its present state allow the manager to prosper further... or is this as good as it gets? I hope for a speedy answer.

We assembled in our North Liverpool watering hole and, amongst all the pre-match banter, 2 - 1 to the Blues was the most talked about outcome. We got there... but the ride was helter skelter and, if we are all honest, most unexpected.

I left our boozer early and made my way to St Luke’s church to purchase my copy of the DVD ‘Alan Ball remembered’ with proceeds going to the charity ‘Health through sport’ set up by ex-Blue Ronnie Goodlass. While I was there, I espied Big Nev doing a book signing so I asked him to sign my DVD, which he did without hesitation. I also got a free mince pie from some lovely ladies on an adjacent stall. After all that surely I would see a win.

I took my seat and we started brightly with Coleman looking reinvigorated and, for a few minutes, he resembled a famed Brazilian wing-back. Apart from a few lapses, he kept up good form throughout. He fed Gibson who put in a cross that Jelavic passed to the keeper. Jelavic then was a bit theatrical as he was put through one-on-one with the keeper who dived for the ball with Jelavic falling over him and causing raucous shouts for a penalty – Denied.

We continued to look the more likely – as you would expect a home team to do... but it was all fur coats and no knickers as we ran out of ideas in the last third; it looked to me like players trying that bit too hard. Mirallas, who was back after hammy trouble, was a bit headless chicken but he did show one bit of pace and a cross to pick out Jelavic but it was a bit behind him and only a non-productive corner ensued. However, it did show that, with the right ball, he could get behind the Spurs defence.

The half wore on and it was in the main end-to-end stuff with each team having spells of attacking which the defending side had difficulty in getting away.
Coleman had a chance but, instead of doing the simple thing well, he lost his head a bit and lashed a shot wide when a cooler head would have had the chance to pick out a better-placed team-mate. Then Pienaar caught the bug and, after a joined-up move involving Mirallas, and Osman, he lashed wide when other options were better.

Spurs were forever holding up play at every opportunity; whether this has anything to do with the boy wonder manager, I don’t know... but it got right on the crowd's wick. This was typified when, for some reason, they were more than reluctant to retreat the 10 yards back for our free kick when the ref ordered them to do so. As Baines prepared to take, Defoe just broke ranks and walked toward him, thus stopping the kick. The ref booked him amid cheers from the faithful. What are these foreign managers teaching England internationals? Perhaps Roy should have a word...

Coleman had a gallop down the wing and, as he threatened to leave the Spurs full-back for dead, he was scythed down and the Spurs man booked. The Spurs protests were at best embarrassing.

The game kept going in this fashion with little direct threat on either goal; we were getting forward but our crosses always came to nought and I remember wondering what ever happened to the art of attacking the near post when a cross looks like coming in as most of our crosses were cleared from that area with no Blue shirt anywhere near.

Half-time neared and produced two shouts for handball in the box that from my seat looked nailed-on. The ref would have none of it and the crowed grew very angry and let their anger be shown in high decibels. The whistle went and the half-time chat was about us never getting anything from refs. I made a call to a mate of mine who watches via other means and he confirmed that slow-mo retrospection proved the ref Mr Friend to be spot on.

On half-time, Mirallas sort of limped off with signs of hammy reoccurrence and this was confirmed by Naismith replacing him for the second half. A blow, yes... but these things happen and we may well be some weeks without him now so best get behind Naismith and hope he remains injury free whilst building up his match fitness and confidence. He quickly had a chance to win over fans when the ball unexpectedly went through to him after a free kick by Baines was charged down and back to him; Baines then fired back and the ball ended up for Naismith who had stolen in to hit it into the side netting when better could have been expected.

The half continued with two well matched sides having attacking spells in turn and both teams giving away fouls for free kicks that came to nothing. It was looking more and more like yet another draw and my mind wandered to a statement from our manager saying that Gibson needs to buck up and get the game by the scruff of the neck more and drive us on better. Well, today he did some nice things... but nothing like the manager is looking for. I am sure he is capable but he needs to show it.

75 Mins gone and oops... A nothing situation in mid-field saw Dempsey just put his foot through the ball in hope. The ball deflected off Distin and looped over Howard and into the net. Cue ‘Blue Silence’... What a blow. We all looked for reasons. Howard too far off his line was the favourite around us but in truth it was just one of those things. I had been saying for some time that it was a match the first goal would win left me feeling right deflated. It got worse on the nerves as they hit the bar and time was drifting away at what seemed like jet speed.

Vellios came on for Osman on 80 mins and with Fellaini dropping into centre midfield we went 4-4-2 but without much change in fortune as our forays forward still floundered in that last third. Pienaar, although making some poor decisions, kept up a great work rate and at least gave us a feeling of ‘Never say die’ as we tried both ‘hoofball’ and ‘joined-up stuff’ to grab an equaliser.

A draw was looking to be a great result for us, after that being the last thing we wanted at the start, but it wasn’t looking likely as the board went up: 4 mins... Coinciding with this, Coleman made one more lung-busting run. He got a good cross in — Pienaar dived full length and met ball with head — Net bulged. Oh joy! The celebrations were both spectacular and deafening. We had got another point.

Spurs attacked: "Why the hell don’t you blow the whistle?" many thought.... After one attack by Spurs, we repelled and got forward. Someone got the ball into their box. Vellios went all ‘Beth Tweddle’ and acrobatically propelled the ball over his head from a mid-air prone position and there was Jelavic reacting like a robber's dog and steering the ball home. That brought Goodison to an occasion that you just had to be there to appreciate. Words fail to capture such excitement, disbelief, relief and just sheer joy that stayed with us until the whistle went. No "If ya know yer ‘Istery" after this win but instead it was Slade belting out "Merry Christmas" — which the crowd took to a louder level than the tannoy.

Moysie was seen on the pitch as mad as the rest of us after the winner and at the end. Jelavic limped off after his winner to be replaced by Heitinga who did not put a foot wrong for at least 90 secs.

MotM — Pienaar; Special mention for Coleman who I thought had his best game to date.

Cue high fives and handshakes as we who sit adjacent all season bade each a merry one; and then the walk along Goodison Road and Spellow Lane was filled with good cheer. Back to the boozer and the Butties and Karaoke were going down well. After my purchase of the Alan Ball DVD, I thought I would stick to 60s and 70s fayre and had a Brown over Bitter. The Reds were on the box and losing 2-1 so we sang bubbles and then didn’t give a damn when they won. Just one of those days out that cause happiness!

Two away days before Christmas.... Drat — Can I get out of the ritual last-minute Chrissy shopping? We’ll see...

As our car nosed out onto those mean streets of North Liverpool, I swear I heard Ball, Southall and Goodlass singing "We’re gonna win the league"...
UP THE BLUES

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