Over 90 minutes they had twice as many shots and made three times as many tackles. Tottenham just looked like an entity with more weight behind it. These were desperation fouls, the kind of foul that takes a little bit more out of the player committing it every time, an admission that the battle is being lost. Son was fouled five times in the opening half-hour. And before long Arsenal were being bumped and pressed back, not so much by fine football but by the weight, the force, the will of Spurs’s movements down the flanks. man, 50 Ov coorge, Next to yourself, Barney ' chimed in Tim, with the air of a cour- Hold, sir ' interrupted the gentleman alluded to. Spurs sat back, then applied their shoulder to the wheel. She sketches a picture of Barney, who is angry and hurt. How deep can this thing run?Īrsenal did start brightly, finding those familiar angles. Spurs – and there is no higher praise – haven’t looked like Spurs.
Both here and at Anfield last Saturday something else has shifted. Not just a first full-house London derby in the new stadium, not just a performance of bracing brutality. And it did feel like a new frontier in some ways. Before kick-off he had demanded that Tottenham’s fans get this place rocking for a game they had to win to keep their season alive. For an hour they played like a team high on pure uncut essence of Antonio, football reimagined as a kind of glorious, performative suffering.Ĭonte is all about that magnetism, the flashing eyes, the sense of some deep well of personal man-energy.
First, this was the most Conte of Conte nights.
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