Long-term view: ‘Spursy’ tag destroyed by Pochettino

Sarah Winterburn

When it was put to Arsene Wenger prior to the derby that Spurs were now the force in north London, he thought the idea was ludicrous. Effectively: two decades of finishing above them, one year of them finishing above us. The pendulum had a long way to go before it swung to White Hart Lane. Except of course, if you ask any football fan, and God knows more than a few up Arsenal way, whether they’d prefer the glory of the past or the promise of the future, there’s only one sane answer. Wenger, predictably, prefers the past.

And yet still you hear from Spurs fans the trace elements of fear, that they will find a way to do something ‘Spursy’ to what Pochettino is building. I’m sure some of them think they’ve already cracked it: move to Wembley, that soulless corporate showcase, at precisely the time when the team requires the focused momentum of a home stadium. That seems pretty Spursy.

It’s going to suck, for sure, but it’s not Spursy. Spursy isn’t a real thing, it’s a bogeyman. Spursy is Martin Jol, Glenn Hoddle, Harry Redknapp, Juande Ramos and all the other almost-but-not-really managers who combined to make a big fat flake on the top of a soft 99 whip.

A phrase used more sparingly these days, now that more water has passed under the bridge, is talk of ‘the United way’. Possibly because a more sanguine viewpoint would be that it now incorporates – ahem – getting ripped off by agents who see you coming, sacking your manager regularly, signing Marouane Fellaini when you wanted Thiago Alcantara, and having endless boxes of samples from various sponsors litterered around the training ground for Luke Shaw to trip over. And regularly turning Old Trafford into the visual equivalent of root canal surgery.

I still know what it means, as I’m sure you do – developing local youth, thrilling crosses whipped in to culminate a counter-attack with a driving header, goals in the 93rd minute. But as Moyes and van Gaal and Mourinho have been keen to demonstrate, that stuff isn’t written into the red bricks of Old Trafford. It came from someone, and you know who, and evidently had no greater link to the club than his presence.

As far as this matters – and it’s football, it doesn’t matter that much, at least not to the degree that has grown men who dreamt of being someone combing Instagram feeds to agonise over whether Dele Alli’s sparkly belt is worth a back page – it matters simply to dispel received wisdoms about what clubs ‘are’. The ones that truly ‘are’ something lasting – and only Barcelona and Real Madrid seem convincing on that front – ‘are’ thanks not to some magic in the waters, but through in Catalonia the meticulous indoctrination of players into a system, and in Madrid, the historical ability to be Europe’s premier club, and the more recent willingness to go ape-shit with a credit card. Essentially, they ‘are’ thanks to decisions made higher than replaceable managers.

In England, Chelsea’s present identity bears no relation to its previous incarnation, which was just Mourinho writ large and expensive; Man City of the two-year manager have no identity, beyond Pablo Zabaleta and Vincent Kompany being good blokes and the ability to sign Yaya Toure, David Silva and Sergio Aguero. Arsenal were boring, then got a new manager, and now their stubborn inability to adjust and to play invigorated football is simply the reflection of what you presume the players hear each day. And that has becoming boring again.

Spurs probably just got unlucky in having to endure so many years of similar managers that they fell into the kind of self-doubting slump that anyone who’s endured a protracted bad relationship will recognise. There was a sound that used to be instantly recognisable as the White Hart Lane crowd; encouraging, but prone to immediately slip back into grouchy disgust the moment something ‘Spursy’ happened. Now they just sound thrilled most of the time.

But did Spurs, you may ask, not throw away a very winnable title last year? Only if you judge them by the exacting standards Pochettino evidently aims to set. That was still a team relying on players who not that long ago were at Milton Keynes and on endless loans, that had Danny Rose and Kyle Walker only a year or two away from their old versions; and yet still the assumption was that they should go to Chelsea and get the win, which seems a pretty new perception of what a Spurs team ‘should’ do.

It’s an obvious point to make, but Spurs are where they are and convince as they do because they’ve had a few years under a manager who has an outside chance at being considered currently the best in the game. I’m sure he would treat that with level-headed derision, and speak of how much work he still had to do; equally, I’m sure he’d treat with similar derision any belief in inevitable Spursy failures. Inevitable why? Because of the past?

Incidentally, though – and I’d ask for your patient understanding in seeing the distinction – I think Harry Kane is excellent, doing a stellar job of maximising what he has; but I also think that if Spurs dream of the highest heights, he’ll hold them back. There’s a lack of guile and mobility, of in-game nous that gets your head up and puts a razor to your decision-making, that Aguero and Robert Lewandowski have in abundance and is an essential tool for getting past the modern, agile defenders at the top of the game. And that I can’t see Kane ever learning. His determination to do the opposite, to get his head down and get the shot off regardless of who’s around him, can only go so far. And yet he’s excellent. It’s a conundrum.

It’s easily mitigated though. The Spurs celebration this would prompt would paint the entirety of London white. Just imagine a front three of Alli, Sanchez, Kane. That would win the league.

Toby Sprigings – follow him on Twitter