Tottenham’s identity crisis on full display in loss at Chelsea: Can Ange Postecoglu and company recover?

LONDON — Chelsea advance the ball upfield, checking inside to Moises Caicedo just inside the Tottenham half. No pressure yet, the defenders languidly drifting back to their task. Time to float the ball across the field to Pedro Neto. There’s a defender in his periphery, but he’s taking more of a watching brief. Chelsea’s No. 7 looks up and sees blue shirts keeping themselves company. Without that pressure on the ball, it should have been easy enough to pick out one of Cole Palmer or Nicolas Jackson. Neto overhit them both, and somehow Spurs prolonged the inevitable.

Of course, they were going to concede. Any team that treats defending its own back post as a side quest cannot fancy its chances of a clean sheet. Nor can one who seems to have frittered away so much of the identity that their manager had been attempting to instil in them.

You might never have confused Ange Postecoglou’s side for the 1985 Chicago Bears, but they were at least working towards a plan in better days. Tottenham would press you ferociously and in great numbers. When you got through, you’d have a pretty reasonable chance of a prime shot, but that was a risk worth taking. If Spurs got the ball off you, they’d have a better chance of scoring.

When did Spurs last play that way? Certainly, there were no signs of snappiness off the ball from a team whose last competitive outing was 18 days ago. By the final whistle, Chelsea had recovered possession in the final third on seven occasions, Tottenham on four. Of course, there is no obligation to play that way, and it is worth noting that, in the teeth of a brutal injury crisis earlier this season, Postecoglou bowed to continual questions over the zealotry with which he implemented his high line and aggressive pressing. Without their starting defense, Tottenham adjusted; they were a lesser team, but perhaps that was understandable.

Now Cristian Romero, Micky van de Ven, Guglielmo Vicario and Destiny Udogie are all playing and yet there is still mulch where a defensive system ought to be. It is as if Tottenham are finding a verb where there isn’t one in the term rest defense.

Chelsea would get possession, frequently for no reason other than their opponent gave it to them, and find themselves facing five men who might have been moving in the right direction but were doing so far too slowly to really hinder them. Progressing the ball through a midfield which was really Rodrigo Bentancur spinning plates, they would run into a back four that is arguably Tottenham’s first choice.

All these defensive actions seemed to be happening discreetly. Runners between fullback and center back went untracked. Palmer was entitled to breeze to the byline as and when the mood took him. A less profligate opponent than Chelsea would have killed Spurs long before Enzo Fernandez turned in Palmer’s cross early in the second half. Jadon Sancho, in particular, offered more evidence supporting the argument that Chelsea would be better off paying Manchester United £5 million to not sign him than £25 million to do so. One rasping shot tested Vicario, but on too many other occasions, moves died on the left corner of the box.

Perhaps the failings of Tottenham’s defense could be tolerated if they were the full-throttled attack they have been for most of Postecoglou’s tenure. That has died off of late, too. Their 1.1 non-penalty expected goals per Premier League game since the start of January put them 16th in the league. Before Robert Sanchez’s sprawling save to deny Heung-min Son in the 89th minute, they had not created a chance of note to boost that average.

Instead, their attack had managed to deepen the friction between Postecoglou and travelling Tottenham fans. Though much of their ire was directed to chairman Daniel Levy, the decision to withdraw Wilson Odobert and Lucas Bergvall for Brennan Johnson and Pape Matar Sarr brought chants of “You don’t know what you’re doing” from a smattering of supporters. When the latter thundered a 30-yarder into the net moments later, Postecoglou couldn’t help himself, cupping his ear in the direction of the away end.

It is the sort of clip that you can see running on sports news bulletins, quite possibly in the very near future, reflecting on Postecoglou’s tenure in north London and how a bright start of principles, energy and authority became a product resembling nothing in particular. Twenty defeats in all competitions, as near to 18th as seventh, and it’s St. Totteringham’s Day. All that and, if this defense doesn’t get its act together sharpish, a Europa League exit surely to come before too long.