Tottenham Hotspur 2 Sunderland 1
I mentioned Alex Edelman in my previous blog and his recollection of the time his father told him "being a Jew means you'll never be happy". There are days when I feel similarly about being a Sunderland fan and this was one of them. In the morning I had enjoyed 90 minutes revisiting "Tree" at the Old Vic. The 90 minutes at White Hart Lane felt like it was never going to end.
It's invariably the hope I can't stand. So Sunderland surrendering the opening goal after three minutes actually did much to relax me. A comical attempt at a clearance from Santiago Vergini fell to Jan Vertonghen, whose shot deflected off John O'Shea passed a helpless Costel Pantilimon.In a predictable state of affairs, Jermain Defoe did not continue his run of scoring on his debut. But he was a nuisance, if a nuisance that was frequently caught offside. He also created the opportunity for our goal. I do love a free kick on the edge of the box. Particularly when Sebastian Larsson curls it into the top corner, sparking pandemonium in the away end in the 31st minute. Prior to that, Spurs had had the best chances, most prominently Roberto Soldado stinging the palms of our keeper Pantilimon.
The second half felt like the Alamo. Spurs were retaining and using the ball much better and we were dropping far too deep, leaving too much space for Nasser Chadli on the wing. Our best opportunities seemed to come from hopeful balls hoofed forwards. With two minutes left, an ambitious attack broke down leaving Andros Townsend to maraude forward on the counter, pulling the ball back for Christian Eriksen. He swung his right foot, his shot flying off the post and in to score yet another late goal for his side this season. It seemed too inevitable to feel properly gutted about.
There was still more to come though. The much maligned Danny Graham (0 goals in 13 matches, three loan spells in the past two years) nearly scored an implausible equaliser, his shot tipped around the post from Hugo Lloris. There was still time for a bizzare incident where Pantilimon came up for a corner, the ball broke free and Vertonghen slid the ball into an empty net. Only for referee Chris Foy to inexplicably rule him offside, despite starting his run in his own half. Still, his incompetence maintained a personal record. I have never watched Sunderland lose by more than a single goal.
"2-1 and a long way home" sang the Spurs fans at the denouement. It was about the only time they did sing. With a 35,000 capacity with the seats built up on all sides, the stadium should feel like a fortress. The atmosphere felt funereal, save for 3,000 mad bastards getting behind the club from the north east. And we are undeniably mad. I've shouted myself hoarse and feel mentally and physically spent, all for naught in the end.
I can have no complaints about the result. We're plucky in defence but currently lack the pace and technical skill required to generate the opportunities to win matches. 3 wins in 22 matches tells its own story. At this point in time, I think we're going down. But if we are, I'll be at Charlton or Watford or Fulham or Brentford next season cheering them on.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you"
It's invariably the hope I can't stand. So Sunderland surrendering the opening goal after three minutes actually did much to relax me. A comical attempt at a clearance from Santiago Vergini fell to Jan Vertonghen, whose shot deflected off John O'Shea passed a helpless Costel Pantilimon.In a predictable state of affairs, Jermain Defoe did not continue his run of scoring on his debut. But he was a nuisance, if a nuisance that was frequently caught offside. He also created the opportunity for our goal. I do love a free kick on the edge of the box. Particularly when Sebastian Larsson curls it into the top corner, sparking pandemonium in the away end in the 31st minute. Prior to that, Spurs had had the best chances, most prominently Roberto Soldado stinging the palms of our keeper Pantilimon.
The second half felt like the Alamo. Spurs were retaining and using the ball much better and we were dropping far too deep, leaving too much space for Nasser Chadli on the wing. Our best opportunities seemed to come from hopeful balls hoofed forwards. With two minutes left, an ambitious attack broke down leaving Andros Townsend to maraude forward on the counter, pulling the ball back for Christian Eriksen. He swung his right foot, his shot flying off the post and in to score yet another late goal for his side this season. It seemed too inevitable to feel properly gutted about.
There was still more to come though. The much maligned Danny Graham (0 goals in 13 matches, three loan spells in the past two years) nearly scored an implausible equaliser, his shot tipped around the post from Hugo Lloris. There was still time for a bizzare incident where Pantilimon came up for a corner, the ball broke free and Vertonghen slid the ball into an empty net. Only for referee Chris Foy to inexplicably rule him offside, despite starting his run in his own half. Still, his incompetence maintained a personal record. I have never watched Sunderland lose by more than a single goal.
"2-1 and a long way home" sang the Spurs fans at the denouement. It was about the only time they did sing. With a 35,000 capacity with the seats built up on all sides, the stadium should feel like a fortress. The atmosphere felt funereal, save for 3,000 mad bastards getting behind the club from the north east. And we are undeniably mad. I've shouted myself hoarse and feel mentally and physically spent, all for naught in the end.
I can have no complaints about the result. We're plucky in defence but currently lack the pace and technical skill required to generate the opportunities to win matches. 3 wins in 22 matches tells its own story. At this point in time, I think we're going down. But if we are, I'll be at Charlton or Watford or Fulham or Brentford next season cheering them on.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you"
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