EYEWITNESS: Tottenham Hotspur 1 Chelsea 1, FA Premier League

 

Then there was the shareholders prospectus, posted out this week in anticipation of Tuesday's AGM. While before the match there was a march up the Seven Sisters Road to show the fan's distaste at the plans to move to the Olympic Stadium site, the annual report must have been an easy enough document to pen: the opening few pages of puff for investors, most of which are those who bought a fiver's worth when the club was floated in the 80s, outlines the club's recent success in clear and succinct numbers: a fourth place finish last term, was our highest in the Premiership to date.

 

That term featured 19 different goal scorers - a Premiership record. Only 12 home goals conceded - an equal best in the 2009/10 season.

It document also explains the chairman Daniel Levy's position on White Hart Lane, which will be the major topic at the meeting, and while there have been briefings suggesting Spurs would like a move east, the comprehensive health-of-the-club report suggests otherwise. Staying at the Lane is still the Number One Priority, it says, though changes to the design to save three listed buildings, transport improvements and the lack of any public cash in grants or partnerships means costs have risen by £50m. But simply staying in our 36,000 capacity ground is just not an option, he explains.  

 

"A new increased capacity stadium is essential for our club," Levy writes. "We have 33,000 supporters on the paid-for season ticket waiting list. Our Northumberland Development Project received planning consent and now progresses. We have recently registered an interest in the Olympic Stadium site to keep our options open. Given the early stages of reaching full planning for the Northumberland Development Project it is only prudent..."

 

We shall see what sort of reception he gets at the AGM when the new stadium comes up on the agenda: whatever the questions from the floor are like on that topic, he can expect a standing ovation regarding matters on the pitch.

Whatever pans out in the coming months, this is some team Levy has fronted the cash for. Chelsea, for so long a horrible bogeyman we just couldn't beat (even when we are 3-1 up with 15 to go in the FA Cup in 2006...) entered this contest without the pomp of Champs. And oh how things started nicely. Chelsea, with their usual noisy contingent, made a fearful racket but while their team had some mania about them, egged on by the travelling support, the calm composure you expect from this side was evidently missing: we've read all about problems at the Bridge but to see it so starkly was still surprising.

 

They have quality, yes, but they no longer seem to have that confidence to go backwards and tease opponents, play with patience, aware that if they wait in possession for long enough a sparkle will come to the toes of one of their world class performers and the ball will end up in the back of the net. Instead, panicked long range efforts set an early tone, and it was all hurry-scurry from Ancellotti's men. Spurs quickly got the measure of their visitors, with Lennon, Bale and Modric leading the Chelsea midfield a merry dance. Triangles with white shirts at each point appeared each time the home side got on the ball: the older fans were drooling about Bill Nick and Arthur Rowe and push and run at the interval.

 

The opener came on 16: a dinked ball into a central position found Pav, and his clever twist took out the Chelsea centre backs. He drilled home confidently from the edge of the box and the Lane was rocking.   

Spurs got going: Bale gathered with abandon and turned, Pav and Defoe linked well, and Lennon has remembered how to play with a smile on his face. Dawson looked like he has never been away - two anticipated interceptions in the first 20 minutes were simply brilliant. This was a performance that brimmed with desire, passion and confidence. Chelsea had a little spell as the half ticked down but again their poise in the final third had clearly disappeared.

 

Spurs should have been further in front, and Ancelotti knew it. He was clearly unhappy, and shifted the shape of his side: Drogba started the second period for Mikkel and suddenly the Chelsea team had more power up front.

But despite Chelsea switching to a four four two, Spurs had the better of the opening of the second period. A neat move down the right saw Defoe smash an effort just wide, and then five minutes later Modric, from a similar position, didn't quite connect cleanly enough with a volley. Drogba's first proper goal bound effort, on 53, was palmed round the post by Gomes and then a minute later the Brazilian showed his athleticism again with a twisting tip over from an Anelka header. It set the tone for a spell of pressure from the Blues but Spurs's traditional centre that is as soft as a coffee cream in Chrimbo chocolate selection has become a  toffee and hazelnut cruncher. When Chelsea did get near enough to look a worry, Michael Dawson stood up and said: try and get past me if you can. It worked for a while, but the one bit of ring rustiness for Daws saw Drogba sneak in front of him and force the equaliser on 69: Drogba won a header, thumped it goalwards and Gomes let it go through his hands. It was a powerful hit but the keeper will be disappointed.

 

Then it was all nerves. Spurs carried on pressing but looked a little ragged, while Chelsea just lacked the killer ball to make things matter. This was no more apparent when with just injury time remaining Ramires went for a dangerous ball in the six yard box, was knocked sideways by Gomes and the referee pointed to the spot. It would seem Chelsea would sneak off with the three points, but Gomes leapt to his left and pulled off a wonderful save to keep things even.  It made a draw feel slightly more palatable, and the AGM for shareholders, which is always a rowdy affair as the board has to face a room of wanna-be managers, a slightly easier task for Daniel Levy on Tuesday.

 

 

Gomes, 8: Villain for 30 seconds when he rashly clattered into Ramires. Hero 30 seconds later with the penalty stop.

 

Hutton, 7: Super jockeying in the box when Malouda was coming at him. Got up the pitch when he was needed and always offered an outlet down the right. 

 

Bale, 7: Every player in Blue seemed to take a bite at his ankles, with Essien's early career-threatener deserving a yellow card at least. But Bale's bravery can no longer be in question: he simply got his own back by skinning them time and again.

 

Lennon, 7: Not easy to play against Ashley Cole, they say...but Lennon tore at the full back at every opportunity and his movement was excellent. On 84, he snuck a tackle off Cole in a defensive position then seriously walloped it against the 'popular' Chelsea player's  torso to win a throw on. Uncharacteristic? Maybe once, but not in this new Spurs team. 

 

Pavlyuchenko, 7: Great opener, and his hold up play was first class. One-twos time and again with the central positions, created openings. Sub: Keane

 

Palacios, 8: I rubbed my eyes with disbelief: not only did he go in for some toe to toe combat with Essien, which we'd expect, he passed the ball simply and decisively, which we don't.

 

Modric, 7: Love the way he just always want to take responsibility. Give me the ball, he constantly says, and his enthusiasm rubs off on every one else.

 

Defoe 6: One stinging effort nearly made it two. Showed good turn of speed, but needs a league goal to get him going. Sub: Crouch

 

Bassong, 7: Good news that he now has the chance for a run in the side, to hopefully stamp out talk of a January switch to Paris St Germain. He's a valuable player and showed it today with this commanding performance against a physical front line.

 

Dawson, 8: The only blemish was the fact Drogba got by him for the equaliser. Otherwise Daws defied a three month lay off against a seriously muscley Chelsea attack.  

 

Assou-Ekotto, 7: Wonderful move on 33 saw him rob Ferreira and steam forward. His pass for Defoe at the end of the move was pretty superb too.

 

Subs: Cudicini, Bentley, Keane, Crouch, Dos Santos, Corluka, Sandro