White Hart Lame

I have recently speculated that, back in 1991, some African witch doctor discovered that Spurs' win in the 1991 FA Cup final ruined his pools coupon and was so incensed that he cursed Tottenham Hotspur football club, decreeing that they would never be successful again for the rest of time (except for the League Cup, which doesn't count). I like this hypothesis, particular because it's not hard to imagine a voodoo doll of Alan Sugar being involved.

But it's as good a reason as any for the wonderful mediocrity that Spurs have found themselves in for the vast majority of their recent history.

Managerial reputations have gone down the drain quicker than it takes Prince Philip to come up with an offensive remark on meeting an aborigine. Believe it or not, Christian Gross did rather well before he became Spurs coach, and also did rather well afterward. And so now the man known a couple of months ago as Harry Houdini after a great start to his tenure, is now in danger of becoming Harry Redcrapp.

Looking from the outside, it is difficult to fathom how this side cannot be doing well. I agree with Redknapp's constant moans about past transfer policy (step forward Damien Comolli, the Neville Chamberlain of DoFs) and the imbalanced nature of the squad, but the best eleven out there should be able to beat just about anyone but the big four and Aston Villa. I saw them scrape a draw at home to Pompey on Sunday, a side who are hardly on a flying run since Redknapp was replaced by Jimmy Nail (we're told it's Tony Adams, but he looks like Jimmy Nail and appears to have the tactical knowledge of Jimmy Nail). And my bravura and confidence from October-time that Tottenham would absolutely positively definitely end up well clear of a relegation battle is evaporating away.

Besides, considering his current wheelings and dealings, the words "pot", "kettle" and "black" can be aimed at Redknapp, who is badly in need of a goalkeeper (since when Gomes comes for a cross he looks like a penguin trying to achieve flight), a left back (since Gareth Bale is weighed down by the metric tonne of hair gel plastered on his head), a right back (so Corluka can play in the centre and Redknapp can chuck calamity Dawson and the lesser spotted one-legged Ledley King) and a left sided midfielder (because there isn't actually one) and instead is spending £14million on Wilson Palacios when he already has Zokora and Huddlestone at his disposal. Jermain Defoe's arrival at least makes some sense, but if Spurs play two up (they seem keen to partner Defoe with Pavlyuchenko) then I don't know how you can afford to have Luka Modric, blatantly the most talented player in the squad for me and completely wasted since his arrival, plus two offensive wide midfielders like Bentley or Lennon, in the team as well.

The other question with Spurs regards just how deep their pockets are. They have forked out so much lolly on players - with Palacios I count 13 squad members whose transfer fees were greater than £5m, with Bent, Pavlyuchenko, Modric, Bentley and now the Honduran all into eight figures. Even the mountains of cash wheelbarrowed across from Old Trafford for Dimitar Berbatov can't compensate for that. And it's not as if they've been in the Champions' League. And all those inflated fees seem to have led to inflated egos as well; it's not difficult to think of a few players who are clearly not as world-beating as they think they are...

It would take a brave man to predict the future for Spurs, and I'm not a brave man. But I don't think there would be even a raised eyebrow if, twelve months down the line, they are in about the same predicament as they are now, unless a few players get a right royal kick up the behind and Redknapp signs a goalkeeper who can actually catch a flipping cross...

L.