Published: 30 October, 2014

ARSENAL by Richard Osley

THE empty seats went wild. For big blue empty seats were what greeted Tottenham’s Erik Lamela when he scored apparently the greatest goal in the whole of the universe ever last week.

If Spurs go on and win the Thursday Night League this season, just ask any crowing Tottenham fan you encounter afterwards: where were you? If the competition has any worth or any real significance, they would have been there to see Lamela score this most wondrous, superbest Rabona goal of all time. But they weren’t. Instead, they stayed away, voting with their feet at another season lumped with playing teams like Asteras Tripolis, whoever they are. 

Thing is, the truly great goals aren’t scored against Asteras on a Thursday night in front of a half-empty stand. When Liam Brady scored his banana shot, it was in the north London derby. When Dennis Bergkamp outskilled Newcastle, the Magpies were a force in the Premiership. When Thierry Henry scored that waazzzzap? turn and volley goal, it was against Manchester United. You can have one for free – Gazza scored a good one in a FA Cup semi-final once. These were matches that mattered. And yet, Spurs fans are all pop-eyed excited, madly claiming we’re all jealous about Lamela’s Rabona in a meaningless match when it made no difference if he had scored or not. Let’s get some sane-faced proportion. Would he have even tried it on Sunday when Spurs were somehow losing yet again to Newcastle? He’d have been snipered from the upper tier by Daniel Levy if he had, and it hadn’t gone in. 

SPURS by Catherine Etoe

DON’T panic – Alex Ferguson says in his autobiography that proper clubs come out of adversity to return to their “cycle of winning”, so that’s Tottenham Hotspur sorted. 

We will be back. What’s that? Spurs don’t have a cycle of winning? Sorry, but we are talking here about the Spurs who were top-tastic not that long ago. Of course we have a cycle of winning. It’s just that one of our wheels has fallen off and our head mechanic can’t seem to work out how to fit it back on. He’s blamed the mentality of the riders, and even pointed a finger at the size of our bike shed. Of course, the fans reckon it’s because the team isn’t pedalling furiously enough and Pochettino is trying to fit square nuts into round holes.

But enough of this stupid and desperate cycle nonsense. It is time to admit that our form has, ahem, dipped, and hearing Pochettino complaining about the players or the width of the pitch doesn’t really cut it. At times like these, it’s the manager who has to face the flak. Not that Pochettino isn’t putting in the hours – the guy must be, seeing as he looks more like he’s spent the last five months running the country than a football team. 

You don’t get to look that world-weary from sitting around playing computer games all day. (Actually, one look at Gran after a 24-hour Game Boy marathon with Doris suggests that’s not entirely true.) But enough of that stupid nonsense, too.

Point is that the season is young enough for us to turn this around. Pochettino just needs to figure out his best team and get Spurs back on the road to recovery. Fast.