I had a great view for one of the lowest points in my career as a football fan. By the Spurs Cyprus flag, in the tunnel by the South Stand, with a perfect view of the away end… where AC Milan’s fans were having the time of their lives.
It was 2023, and Tottenham fans should have been revelling in hosting a return leg in the knockout stages of the Champions League. There was the challenge of a 1-0 deficit from the San Siro.
But my team, while not a vintage Spurs side, had recent experience of going deep in the tournament, had Harry Kane up front, with his telepathic connection to Heung-Min Son, and a world-class manager in Antonio Conte.
Yet the highlight of the whole night was the light show.
Though they had to score, Tottenham were passive from the start, creating almost nothing. By half-time, the stadium could barely summon a whimper and I swear that was not our fault.
The Milan supporters bounced the whole game through, like they’d always known. It was gutting. If we could not get ourselves up for the Champions League round of 16, what on earth was the point?
Eighteen days later, Conte called his players selfish and left. I was glad to see the back of him.
He argued, as many have before and since, that Tottenham don’t know how to suffer to build champions. Whether or not there was something in that, his attitude that my club should feel lucky he’d turned up left me cold from the start.
Some level of arrogance in football management seems necessary. You must thrive in a space where absolutely no one thinks you can. When deployed as a precursor to great things, like a puckish Jose Mourinho in his first term at Chelsea, it can even charm.
But a lack of humility teamed with a lack of results – that’s toxic. Look at the swift demise of Russell Martin at Rangers.
A great and thoughtful man, with a thorough, principled approach to management.
Like most managers he has had to learn how to stick to his guns and not sway with public opinion.
But his insistence that he would not wear a tie on the touchline divided him instantly from his base. Rangers supporters are sticklers for tradition. You can bend it a little but you must understand it.
This is one reason why Manchester United’s temporary appointment of Michael Carrick feels right to the fans.
United are mocked for their reliance on those who ‘know the club’ but when you are part of the tradition you are trying to continue, you have more rope.
The same was true in Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s temporary reign. His insistence on not using ‘Sir Alex’s parking space’ felt slightly silly – but it was a byword for his humility and understanding of history and the supporters largely loved it.
Of course it’s not just gentle signifiers that tell fans you know what they want. The United Way is real. United beat City looking like a Ferguson team.
Spurs fans want attacking, flowing football – it’s about ‘doing things in style, with a flourish’, as Danny Blanchflower memorably said.
Nuno Espirito Santo was so loved by Wolves for his pragmatic approach and the results he managed to grind out. That was never going to work for him at Tottenham.
In Thomas Frank, Spurs appointed a manager whose defensive focus and pragmatism was supposed to help the team to punch upwards and restate top-level ambitions.
There was a method to it. But it has not worked. Deep down, I never really thought it would. The fans are disaffected. There were 10,000 empty seats on Tuesday night. One win over Borussia Dortmund will certainly not be enough to change that.
But Frank came in promising to manage this way and his decency and dignity have never faltered. He has no club DNA but he is humble.
Can his pragmatism stretch to frequently delivering performances played the Tottenham way? Or is it simply too little, too late?
