Class Dismissed

And Tottenham's Trajectory

This game means everything. Always has. 

For me, it’s often come with a certain sense of dread. Nothing feels quite as sweet as beating them, nothing feels as low as losing. For years though, we had to hear the bleating of “form is temporary, class is permanent”. Most annoying thing was that we weren’t in a place to knock the smugness out of them. They were winning and competing for things and we weren’t. 

But oh how things have changed. This is a new Tottenham Hotspur. 

As that lot chipped or hacked in cross after cross, our boys repelled them every time. In the initial moments after the match, I couldn’t help but think back to a match we played against Manchester United about eight or nine years ago when we drew in a rather dull affair. I was annoyed because we had put in so many crosses and controlled the ball well, but Rio Ferdinand and Nemanja Vidić—despite being at the end of their years of dominance—sent each ball right back out to where it came from. Sir Alex Ferguson, after the match, certainly didn’t think as much of our performance as I did. 

“They sent them in, but what did they create?” was the general tone he took with the post-match commenter who wanted to hear the famous manager’s thoughts on what transpired.

And that’s how I feel today. Our nomadic neighbors put in a performance as good as any they’ve produced in a month, but what did they create? A half chance here, a contested header there. Eric Dier and Toby Alderweireld sent almost everything right back to where it came from. If anyone would have told me two months ago that we would keep five clean sheets in the league during the next six matches—shutting the door on Manchester City, Chelsea, and Woolwich in the process—I’d have called their family members and told them that maybe a long rest away from the stressors of 2020 was in order. 

The defensive evolution that has taken place in the last six matches is nothing short of staggering. Since a certain 3–0 lead was squandered on October 18, we have given up one league goal.

One!

That is the reason that I will always value winning the league over any cup competition, including the Champions League. And that’s not to say that I don’t love the rush and emotional swings of a cup match, but there is just something about being there week in, week out and doing it. The reality that everyone had to show up every week whether to score that crucial goal that secures three points or to push the one real chance wide of the post to ensure that the spoils were shared. It all matters in the league and it asks questions of the entire team. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? With this squad, at this moment, there are so many bouquets to give. So much credit due.

We’ve been hearing about the importance of the collective for years. In the previous era, the collective was about becoming the business-end of a sledgehammer, looking for the action; but is there anything less team oriented about the way Moussa Sissoko and Pierre-Emile Højbjerg thunder about the pitch? Is there anything less committed about holding one’s nerve as runners flood the area, knowing that if they make even one false move, the counter is on?

Is there anything more selfless than watching Harry Kane and Son Heung-min terrorize teams on the counter only to charge about the defensive half, winning headers and closing out passing angles?

As I pointed out last week, it’s not particularly scintillating when you’re watching your team defend for extended stretches, but it does allow us to see the trust and belief each player has in the plan. Players will not do that type of grunt work if they don’t believe in the cause or believe in the player next to them. 

It’s still all a bit nervy for me, honestly; it’s not the football we grew to love under Martin Jol, Harry Redknapp, or Mauricio Pochettino, but they are making a believer out of me. 

The process itself is the key. The rapid remaking of this squad, from an attacking team who struggles to defend to a defensive team that defends to attack, has me considering a lesson I learned during my third year of university studies, when I took a class about Indigenous American literature. As part of the curriculum, we read Leslie Marmon Silko’s novel Ceremony. The novel challenged me to rethink the way I see the world.

In Western literature, we are inundated with “rags-to-riches” and tragedies as common story arcs. But, as my professor told us, what if we were to consider life in a more cyclical way, in the phases the novel presents: times of bounty, drought, and ceremony.

What is most important about using this lens to understand our lives, according to my professor, was that we use the ceremonies to admit the struggle, to acknowledge the pain, in an effort to bring the balance that will bring the bounty back.

While nowhere near as serious as real drought, poverty, or addiction, Tottenham Hotspur went through a time of tremendous upheaval in 2019 and 2020. It was not always clear how we would come out of it. Often I’ve been at odds with our approach: I’ve questioned, I’ve yelled, and I’ve mourned.

I miss many of the players that are frozen out or left for different pastures. I miss the familial nature our last set of coaches created. I’m worried about the future of the roster even as we find ourselves in an incredible run of form.

And that’s the tricky thing about approaching the concept of life as cyclical. Only by admitting that there is drought could we continue the cycle. Only by admitting that there will always be work to do can we stay on top. What we can see, though, is that by making the difficult decisions, the sacrifices, and getting back to basics, the cycle has started again. 

We’re growing. Perhaps most importantly, we’re growing together; and while success is not guaranteed, the journey out of the desert feels good and I’m happy to be taking it.

As for that other club, let them have their YouTube fans, self-delusions, and belief that superiority is permanent.

But as for any real conversations of relevance? That’s for us now. And our class at the moment, unlike theirs, can’t be dismissed. 

North London is ours.