Never in doubt
I don't do football match reports anymore. Occasionally, I might pick apart a game or a players performance but I usually like to sleep on a result and the next day feel inspired to write about a particular thing that might have stood out. I'm going to do a bit of everything tonight. The game has just finished and I fancy grabbing a crayon and smacking down my thoughts with ye old technicolour vibrancy and positivity. Even the bits where I moan are sprinkled with happy happy joy joy.
I might as well start with the line-up. Jose Mourinho made mass changes and nobody would have been surprised to see this considering the small matter of Liverpool at the Tottenham Stadium this Thursday. My initial gut reaction never changes regardless of fixture congestion and priority of opponents. I always want us to put the game (in a cup competition) to bed. That rather than react to the game, dictate the narrative from the start. Control and then do the things to protect the lead and the fitness of the key players. But this is a fantastical thought that holds no weight in reality. It's just a ghost, a day dream.
It's Wycombe. Bottom of the Championship. Three wins all season in the league. Ten points adrift. Ded. So surely making changes to the team, all of it, holds no risk to our progression. Right? Well yes. The quality of the team we did put out might lack the momentum and the telepathic instincts of our proper starting eleven but it still has enough first team experience in there; enough senior players to boss it.
Alas, reality can often distort itself by doing the opposite it's meant to be showing you. We started well, attacking with comparative ease. Then the hosts got more involved. And the game has tiny pockets of the ominous fractures about it. Could reality crack like glass?
I kept thinking 'should have played the big players, all of them'.
The reason I always want us to put the game to bed by playing our best line up is because of momentum. Because it's barely a cup run if you're fielding different players every round. I'm a super traditionalist on this. It gives the competition identity, a sense of connection to the adventure. But this isn't the way it's been for a generation. There's a reason I often feel ominous anxiety creeping over me, like an entity whispering doubt into my ears during a bout of sleep paralysis. It's because a mish mashed team can lack that familiarity of swagger and purpose.
We sort of lacked a bit of it in the first half. We had lots of the ball and looked alright. Gareth Bale had an early chance off his head where he should have buried it. Then Joe Hart had to punch the ball away a couple of times that had me fearing 'one of those nights'. Shame on me. That was actually the last we saw of Hart as the second half was pretty much dominated by Tottenham. But before the second forty-five blessed us with its presence we had to endure the indignity of going 1-0 down (having survived a Mousa Sissoko handball incident).
I kept thinking 'Y U NO PLAY PROPER TEAM JOSE?' whilst we struggled to really force ourselves into the game and slap 'em. I don't think we had a shot on target in the opening 30 minutes. Sissoko had one that deflected off the woodwork and then in the forty-first minute we actually got one on target. But honestly, the discomfort of trailing by a goal made things appear far worse than they were.
I knew deep down my concerns were nothing more than my impatience for the tangible.
It finally came as the half closed. Gareth Bale finding himself onside thanks to some Championship level defending (attempting to play the offside) to touch the ball over the keeper. Lucas Moura providing the cross. Phew right? Right.
Then came the second half and I guess this is where my traditional demands of wanting a full strength team from the start is dismissed by that bloke that manages and coaches the team. You know, the geezer that's won the lot.
See if you can rest players and then bring them on, that's probably better than risking the lot from the opening minute. Very simplistic logic there. When you can sub on Pierre-Emile Højbjerg and later also introduce Harry Kane and Son and Tanguy Ndombele - all without a major risk of preparation for the league game against Liverpool - well, why start with any of them? Why not see if the mish mashers can do the job and if they can't, then bring 'em on.
Afterall, it's just Wycombe.
And cup games are no longer this momentum driven experience. It's game management, one game at a time. And as for cup runs, look at the one that got us into the League Cup final. It's barely worth a DVD.
Anyways.
The second half was so much better. So many opportunities, passages of play. Hart could have practised his bowling, he had so little to be concerned about. We bossed it. All the possession all the stats for shots on target. By the end it was around 28 or so. This game might have appeared to be close but it was nothing more than an illusion.
Having the first team players on, watching them slow burn into the game and then hit the afterburners was decent on the eye. Kane had a chance from a Davies ball. Son should have scored. We got to the 80th minute but I knew what was coming. I knew we'd carve them up somehow. The physicality, the fitness alone was going to be enough. Yeah, I was four rums deep and feeling cocky. But I was right.
Harry Winks scored for the 2-1 after some lovely dramatics inside the penalty area. It started from the feet of the magical, exceptional Tanguy Ndombele. The ball to Kane was absolute sauce. Kane's shot was saved (their keeper was alright all evening bless him) and Son failed to follow up when Harry had another stab at getting the ball across goal. It falls to Winksy who is stood just outside the pen box and he floats a perfectly placed shot into the net.
Then the heavens open.
Tanguy with the 3-1, side footing the ball with his first touch from an assist via Son.
Then it's 4-1. Tanguy again, taking the piss now, dribbling and turning and sticking the ball through two players and the keeper. Perhaps a super minor deflection but it was always going in.
Christ, look at me. Saying I wouldn't be writing a match report and I've gone and written a bloody match report.
86th, 87th, 93rd.
Spurs in full clutch mode at the death. Yes, it's Wycombe but yes we want to see our team - any side put out - dispatch teams in this fashion. Sticks a smile on our face.
Everton away in the next round, the 5th round. Year ends in 1. Something is happening.
In the end, it was never in doubt. In the end, I have to remember to just trust the process. These modern times have been with us for an age and my whimsical desire to see us take every competition, every game serious is an impossible task to adhere to. In the past, we did make mass changes in cups and got knocked out. It wasn't that we didn't take it seriously, more the case that we didn't have the depth to rotate. We do now. Although I still stand by my statements that Europa League group games is the valley of defilement when it comes to fixture and selection management.
In the end, I was happy to see Gareth finish the game on the field. He looked sharp, had that burst of speed in and around the pen area. Seems more confident and capable to play around a defender and cut inside too. As for Tanguy. Man is different gravy and pushing towards that Lyon form that made him a £60M player.
Recently I waxed lyrical about him playing deep and having the capacity to read so much from midfield positions. But he can still be something more in the final third, pushing up against the forwards. It's a lovely conundrum to attempt to solve. Jose seems to think the player can do more (it's a motivational thing for sure, players can't be complacent about their form and slot into a comfort zone).
Tanguy has the footwork to produce glory, be it deep lying or on the front foot. He can pass, assist. He can invent for others and for himself too. He knows where to space invade, he knows how to select the best option that will do the best damage. He scores all types of goals. We might have the best midfielder in the world, in a year or two. Remember how close many of our fanbase came to dismissing him? Making a meme out of him? Perhaps his form, his class...this too was never in doubt.
Now for Liverpool. Don't low block them Jose. Go for the jugular. We're at home. Make a statement. Play with intelligence, but look to hurt them with the players that have the ability to do just that. Set up so the likes of Ndombele can dictate.
Release the kraken. Whilst I drink myself through a bottle of the stuff.
COYS