STAMFORD BRIDGE – It is easy to say so after the event, of course, yet this always had the feeling of a Spurs correction about it. Having been shored up by Antonio Conte’s marvellous functionality, Spurs arrived at Stamford Bridge with the greater points potential, which, given they had already lost to Chelsea three times this season and twice this month, was anomaly enough.
Indeed it seems the point of Spurs in this fixture is to get whacked. At least at Stamford Bridge. One win, ten draws and 21 defeats is the tale of the tape in west London, the one Chelsea defeat coming four years ago when Conte held office. His love of time and motion studies, his devotion to scientific management, to order and pattern have brought a greater efficiency to Spurs. A favourable fixture list did the rest.
This was only his second fixture against a top-four rival. The home draw with Liverpool was anti-Conte in that it was thrillingly chaotic. This was archetypal Conte, Spurs set up like a guerrilla combat squad, fullbacks all over the place, setting traps, springing ambushes, hoovering space and Harry Winks fighting Pierre-Emile Hojbjerg for the privilege of sitting deepest.
Up front the indefatigable Steven Bergwijn did the hard yards with Harry Kane for not a lot of reward. The one time Spurs sprung the trap, Kane brushed the back of Thiago Silva, who went to ground as if struck by a missile, to see the goal disallowed.
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Spurs started the match as if propelled by an algorithm of their record here, barely escaping their own half in the opening quarter of an hour. They had Romelu Lukaku to thank for staying upright in the first minute.
At what point is Lukaku downgraded from great, to good, perhaps even ordinary? So much of his game is ponderous and scrappy, the ball never really under his command. The touch becomes heavier the harder he tries. The chance he spurned inside 45 seconds was golden, scooped over the bar like a topped drive in the Sunday medal. Nothing wrong with the service from Mason Mount, fast, early and accurate. You might argue the chance came too early for him, but at £90m quid that excuse is hardly viable.
Seemingly rehabilitated after the Sky Italia video nasty, Thomas Tuchel preferred Lukaku and academy products Mount and Callum Hudson-Odoi to the Bundelsiga-three, Kai Havertz, Timo Werner and Christian Pulisic, none of whom appear any nearer acclimatising to the Premier League.
Two minutes into the second half Hakim Ziyech showed them how to do it. Seated behind the arc of the shot, the ball seemed destined for the top corner before it left his boot. Time slowed as if the key of life had suddenly been revealed. Collecting Hudson-Odoi’s pass, Ziyech calmly switched the ball to his left foot and let fly. Hugo Loris needn’t have bothered with the dive. He was never getting there.
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Six minutes later Silva, surely one of Chelsea’s greatest signings, was glancing in the second from Mount’s free-kick. It had none of the artistry of Ziyech’s but was received just as enthusiastically by the fans behind the goal. Poor Conte, his afternoon of constant chuntering to the bench, a fusillade of overheated Italian as the world collapsed about him, petered out in despondency and resignation.
Tuchel, on the other hand, was jumping about as if Chelsea had won a trophy. After a run of just three points from 12 there was a sense that Tuchel was being sucked into a familiar pattern at Chelsea, the pace being set by Manchester City and Liverpool beginning to erode the peace. It’s the FA Cup and Club World Cup up next, an opportunity to reset the pulse to normal before the Premier League thunder calls Chelsea forth again at Crystal Palace a month hence.
from Football – inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/3GYjXAq
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