It was all there, wasn’t it? From the moment Bodo/Glimt snatched a goal they really didn’t deserve in the closing stages of the first leg last week, it was all there.
As we put it in Big Midweek: it wasn’t a consolation, it was a lifeline. It was a route back into the tie with Spurs’ lead no longer quite so decisive ahead of the trip to a tricky little stadium with a very tricky pitch and some very tricky weather conditions. Not to mention a Bodo/Glimt side restored to full strength with all those first-leg suspensions out of the way.
They fancied their chances, weren’t shy about saying they fancied their chances, and nobody thought they were wrong about it either. Before kick-off here, with the home side choosing to water an artificial pitch with all creases in its corners even as the rain poured down for hours on end, and a huge Minion-based Tifo was unfurled it was hard to resist the notion that here were some absolutely unimprovable conditions for Spursiness. Plenty of clubs less prone to self-sabotaging slapstick have quivered before at the intimidating sight of… Minions.
And yet that is not at all what transpired. Spurs are, somehow, made of far sterner stuff on these Europa League nights. The pragmatism and professionalism of Frankfurt in the last round was in evidence again as Spurs controlled the game before finally putting it to bed with a pair of quick-fire goals in the second half.
What’s truly striking is the way, in those last two European away games that required a very specific set of skills, Spurs have shown they can absolutely defend properly and competently when set up in such a way that gives them half a chance.
As in Frankfurt, it was impossible to fault the balance Spurs struck between attacking intent and defensive solidity. The mystery – and it’s one only partially explained by the strength of their own team and that of their opponents on these European Thursday nights – is why they are so utterly incapable of showing this level of adaptability in domestic football.
Bodo/Glimt, buoyed undeniably by the unique attributes and challenges of their ground, had been the Europa League knockout stage’s leading home goalscorers. Spurs shut them down almost entirely. Barring a 10-minute spell late in the first half and a few late flurries when the tie was long over, a team that had beaten Lazio 2-0 and Olympiacos 3-0 and Twente 5-2 here in previous rounds barely threatened Guglielmo Vicario’s goal at all.
What little he had to do he did without fuss, while the sight of him in bright orange rather than his usual yellow was only rendered more jarring by the sight of him whacking every goal-kick as far as he possibly could after taking as long over it as he possibly could. It’s just who we are, mate.
In front of him were a whole bunch of rock-solid performances from players who simply haven’t been doing that for vast swathes of this season. Cristian Romero treated it like an Argentina game, and there are few higher compliments than that. It was a reminder that whoever gets a fully engaged and focused – albeit still probably on occasion quite lunatic – version of him next season will still have one heck of a player on their hands.
Micky van de Ven sprinting and turning on this pitch in this weather made us wince, but he continues to be the most conspicuous difference-maker of all when Spurs can get him on the pitch. They are still fully capable of disaster when he’s there, but he is so often a vital get-out-of-jail-free card with that pace.
Destiny Udogie retained some of his usual licence to invert and attack, which highlighted what was at the core of Spurs’ strategy here. They didn’t come just to protect what they had, but nor were they willing to place it at undue or unnecessary risk.
Rodrigo Bentancur had his best Spurs game in some time. Yves Bissouma his best in even longer. And Dominic Solanke – increasingly taking the Big Nando Llorente role in this latest unlikely Spurs jaunt to a European final – put in a huge shift in thankless conditions. Few players have ever deserved a tap-in more than his here after Romero got ridiculous hang-time to meet a Mathys Tel corner and nod it back across goal.
Pedro Porro was so flawless that even his one mistake ended up in a goal. The very idea of a Porro performance without some kind of significant error is so unlikely that the referee just assumed he must have made one with a perfectly timed tackle in the penalty area late in the game.
The penalty was given, and then VAR took it away when pictures revealed that Porro, like Spurs in general here, had absolutely nailed it. Fair enough, referee, we’re as surprised as anyone.
The tie was over by then, of course, Spurs having eased into a 5-1 aggregate lead, but the clean sheet still felt significant.
Spurs have now conceded just two goals across their four quarter-final and semi-final matches. You don’t need us to tell you how out of character that is for Spurs in general and especially this iteration.
It feels absurd to think of Spurs in a European final this season because we’re so used to seeing them bumblef*ck around the Premier League. And yes, in recent weeks the Premier League commitments have taken an obvious and correct backseat but the bumblef*cking significantly predates that.
But at the business end of this tournament, from the moment it became their sole and absolute focus Spurs have been… really bloody good actually.
From the second leg against AZ onwards, it’s been hard to find any real fault with any of Spurs’ efforts. That’s five games. Five coherent, grown-up, big-hearted and above all else big-brained performances when the entire season and several careers were resting on the outcome of each and every one of them.
Yes, the gulf between the Champions League and Europa League has never felt wider than it does right now, but Spurs – Spurs – have been taking care of business in jarringly responsible fashion, responding to setbacks with calm authority and something that has at times approached class.
And now they have to do it just one more time and a generation of banter dissolves away. One more time against a team at least as stupid as they are. One more time against a team they have already beaten three times this season, while keeping two clean sheets and scoring eight goals.
But also against a team for whom winning trophies is such a habit that being objectively crap is no barrier to silverware. A team that should they prevail in Bilbao will have won three progressively more prestigious trophies in three years where they have got worse and worse at football.
It’s a fascinating final, one that will end with either the current 15th or 16th best team in England qualifying for the Champions League. There is no sensible outcome.
The fear is there and the fear is real that for Tottenham all these competent performances have done is simply defer the Spursy until the worst/funniest possible moment. There’s no avoiding that.
But that fear was powerfully present here, and Spurs laughed in the face of it. What if Ange Postecoglou really does always win something in his second season? What if this really is the point when the joke stops always being on Spurs and they actually get the last laugh?
Wild and crazy talk. Wild, crazy, but now dizzyingly plausible talk.
