Spurs- a throwback to the glory, glory days

Spurs- a throwback to the glory, glory days

It was a pleasant day by the River Thames. The river itself was calm and unruffled, almost oblivious to events at nearby Craven Cottage. Meanwhile an FA Cup match was carefully unfolding in front of us. Fulham were playing Tottenham Hotspur in the FA Cup fifth round and the world was going about its business in the way it always has. But Spurs were winding the clock back to the good old days of Bill Nicholson, push and run, give and go and intricate triangles. It was reminiscent of how things used to be rather than they are at the moment.

Fulham, of course, are no longer the Premier League force of old and the FA Cup is just one isolated memory. When they were beaten by fellow Londoners West Ham in the 1975 FA Cup Final it was a like a brief acquaintance with an old friend. They met at the railway station, slapped each other on the back and then lost contact with each other.

Last night I came across a classic piece of You Tube footage featuring the abundantly gifted and masterful George Best and the equally as celebrated Rodney Marsh just over 40 years ago. Then Best and Marsh became the magical exhibitionists playing in a Fulham side that seemed to have been temporarily bequeathed a priceless family heirloom. But it was only one season and perhaps the Fulham fans gathered at the Cottage yesterday may have been totally unaware of the Best and Marsh double act. It's probably safe to assume that some of them hadn't even been born yet.

Still today's FA Cup fifth round tie between the Cottagers and Spurs was all about the present day. Fulham are now a team playing below stairs rather than the upper class stratosphere. A couple of seasons ago they fell from Premier League grace after a 13 year tenancy in the big time League. But yesterday they faced a Tottenham team who were both technically brilliant, richly expressive and sumptuously stylish. If somebody had given them a paint brush before the game they'd have probably  produced a masterpiece.

Tottenham are still hankering after another FA Cup. It's 27 years since their last Wembley Cup Final victory against Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest and the longing becomes greater by the year. Yesterday Spurs just demolished Fulham before they'd had time to release the handbrake. The passes were strung together like the prettiest of daisy chains and it all looked like something they'd cut and paste a million times from the training ground. It was football that had a wonderful off the cuff spontaneity, flowing like sugar and honey.

But essentially this was the day when Spurs superb striker Harry Kane gave a convincing imitation of a striker in the best goal scoring form. Surely it can only be a matter of time before England boss Gareth Southgate gives Kane complete licence to terrorise opposition defences on a regular basis. Kane's goal scoring prowess is now deservedly recognised throughout the game and there is something of his predecessor Jimmy Greaves about him.

Kane scores goals for fun, a hungry predator and could, you suspect, score goals in his sleep. Comparisons with Jimmy Greaves are deeply unfair at the moment but Kane has a wonderful goal- scoring prowess that seems to come naturally to him. All strikers relish the geography of a penalty area. They always seem to be in the right place and the right time. Kane has almost adopted the role and claimed it for himself. Now the goals are gushing out of Kane like a prolific oil gusher and yesterday Kane was just unstoppable.

Throughout the whole of the game yesterday Kane was like the central axis of all Tottenham's attacking movements. He floated and darted into space without any prompting at all and when he came anywhere near the Fulham goal, Kane was in his element. He pounced like a viper and then ruthlessly applied the killer punch. It was mercilessly cruel and somehow inevitable but then that's the way Kane likes it.

In a sense Kane's hat- trick against Fulham was somehow fated to happen. It was as if  Fulham should have been given prior warning because Kane was a dark, menacing force breathing down their neck. All three goals were the direct result of some delicious passing and incisive approach work. You were reminded of a hospital surgeon with a scalpel. Fulham were cut open and then stitched back together with surgical precision. Job done.

Spurs supporting cast consisted of Christian Erikssen, a player straight out of the Tottenham finishing school of excellence. Rather like Spurs in their Ardilles and Villa incarnation, Erikssen loves to be in permanent control of the ball. Here he was in a complete command of proceedings, a player of wit and impulse, prompting and probing for Spurs at will, the complete playmaker.

Then there was one of the new and now flourishing home grown conveyor belt. Harry Winks looked bright, breezy, happy go lucky and vibrant. Winks was emotionally involved and splendidly carefree, fluttering around like the most colourful of birds. In many ways some of Winks football was tremendously eye- catching. Now where did that pun come from?

And so it is that Spurs go marching on in much the way Bill Nicholson would have advocated and supported whole heartedly. It's Millwall for Spurs in the FA Cup quarter finals and that cockerel at White Hart Lane could hardly be happier. Harry Kane, hey? Orson Wells would have been enormously proud of Spurs latest citizen.