Look, I may as well be honest: I was here for the bloodletting.
Go to Tottenham, they said. Go and see the anger, the anguish. Get tanked up on boos. Be a neutral witness. I’m not a Spurs fan, nor a Spurs correspondent, but that was the point. The whole gig was to be an outsider, to have my innocent mind blown by the negativity. It was an anthropology assignment.
So off I went, decked out in my best hazmat suit, Britney Spears’ second-most famous song ringing in my ears. I was primed for it, my big day out in the vipers’ nest. Let’s get toxic, baby.
And then… nothing. What did I get? Something like a love-in.
On a mild, oddly serene north London afternoon, Tottenham played themselves some of the way out of their funk. In doing so, they also laid the groundworks for a rapprochement with their public after an emotionally charged few weeks.
Whether or not they can make it stick is an open question. For now, though, they should celebrate being in a position to ask it.
Even if you had gone with no prior knowledge — not heard the abuse aimed at Guglielmo Vicario last weekend, not read Thomas Frank’s response, not followed the back-and-forth about applauding the fans — you would have had an inkling before kick-off that there was something going on here, that the milk was on the turn.
The stadium announcer urged supporters to “get behind the team” — a rallying call you would never hear in the good times. Frank’s programme notes followed the same pattern. “We know our home form has to improve,” he wrote. “We are working hard to do that and together, we can build some momentum and make Tottenham Hotspur Stadium a fortress.”
There were, in the early offings, what felt almost like performative gestures, attempts to will a sense of communion into being. Pedro Porro, critical of fans after the 2-1 defeat against Fulham, made a point of applauding them before taking a corner. Xavi Simons whipped up the crowd after outmuscling his man on the touchline.
At half-time, the Spurs players again formed a little huddle before leaving the field. Against Fulham, this had the look of a defensive formation; they may as well have had shields raised, pikes poking through the gaps. On this occasion, they could lap up warm cheers. A healthy 2-0 lead will do that for you.
This, really, is the crux of it. Whatever you think of fans turning on their own players, whatever the optics or the ethics, however the manager seeks to deflect, soften or counter the blows, there really is only one reliable path out of these situations. You get supporters onside by doing things on the pitch.
Sometimes that’s as simple as taking a few shots. When Richarlison converted a Simons cross, 24 minutes in, it wasn’t just the first goal Tottenham had scored in the first half of a Premier League match since late October. It was their first shot on target in a first half since the defeat against Chelsea on November 1.
Sometimes it’s about playing with heart. Sometimes it’s about playing with intent. Tottenham ticked both of those boxes against Brentford, winning the physical battle and zipping the ball around. Mohammed Kudus and Simons were both at it. Richarlison ran his lungs out. Rodrigo Bentancur made more interceptions than peak Bletchley Park.
Mainly, of course, it’s about winning. This victory came a full 16 weeks after the last home league win, far too long by any possible metric. Of course it lightened the mood. As Tottenham repelled a few cursory Brentford attacks in the second half, the sense of relief was palpable.
It bled into Frank’s conciliatory post-match press conference.
“There are ups and downs in football and life, but I like how the team responded,” Frank said. “I like how the whole stadium responded. Maybe it was me, but I noticed when Vicario’s name was announced (before kick-off), I think there was an extra high roar. I love that. That makes me warm inside. Today, there was a fantastic energy between the team and the fans.”
Frank will be well aware we’re not yet in utopia territory. Brentford were not at the races here. Even then, Tottenham let the second half drift a touch. It will take a string of positive performances to properly erase the memory of that awful home run.
Nor will the bigger-picture issues be dispelled in a hurry. There is still structural angst among fans, a feeling that the club’s hierarchy is not quite pulling in the same direction. There have been justified grumbles about ticket prices, about the loss of the right to transfer seats to friends and family. The stadium is a marvel in so many ways but it can feel transactional. I can’t think of another football ground at which I have been advertised quite so vigorously.
This stuff is easier to digest if the on-field product is excellent. When you pay top dollar, you expect top quality. The squad, though, is not as strong as it was a couple of seasons ago. The departure of chairman Daniel Levy — not always popular but at least broadly public-facing — means there is no longer a convenient lightning rod for all this frustration.
Beating Brentford won’t change this. The underlying ennui is not going anywhere. What Frank and his players can do is dampen it down in the short term, hope to harness what goodwill there is, create a snowball effect. This is the first step, a hand extended across the void.
Fans like winning football matches. So do footballers. This game showed that this particular shared interest is as good a basis as any for synergy.
Now: does anyone want to buy a brand-new toxicology textbook?