Talk your way out of this one, mate. Ange Postecoglou’s empire of spin is collapsing around him, crushed by the sheer weight of failure, the steaming piles of unimpeachable evidence, the total lack of direction or progress or joy.
In his programme notes against Wolves, Postecoglou praised his squad’s “huge growth” over the past year. You can only assume he is referring to their moral mettle and charitable exploits – or even Rodrigo Bentancur learning that racism is wrong – because to say as much about their on-pitch performances would be outright misdirection.
Whether on an individual, team or spiritual level, this is getting rapidly and dramatically worse.
After 19 league games last season, Tottenham were fifth, on 36 points. At the same point in 2024-25, they sit 11th – with potential to drop lower if Brentford beat Arsenal – thanks to 24 points and the eighth-worst defence in the Premier League.
There was a similar slew of hamstring injuries a year ago, both removing that excuse and highlighting no-one at the club has learned from previous mistakes. Only Chelsea and Manchester United have spent more on transfers since June 2022, and only Wolves and Brentford have endured more top-flight losses in 2024.
Jorgen Strand Larsen’s equaliser means Tottenham will go at least two months without a home league win, while Hwang Hee-chan’s opener was the 15th time they have conceded first at home this season, a Premier League record.
All this contributes to the first season since 2007-08 they go into the new year below seventh, 11 points from Champions League qualification.
And still, Postecoglou appears bafflingly far from losing his job. This is, of course, the consequence of successfully selling himself as an investment, as a project so complex and intricate he requires almost unlimited time and investment to realise his full potential.
Just wait until everything is perfect, then this team might be as good as it was in his first 11 games in charge. Just you wait.
But until they return to that land of milk and honey, they’re left with Son Heung-min slowly collapsing in on himself, meandering near the game like a new parent hoping to stay awake long enough to get round Tesco.
Dominic Solanke, running very fast and very hard with no plan or cohesion until he’s inevitably tackled, or crashes into Bentancur. Radu Dragusin standing where a centre-back should and occasionally considering some centre-back-adjacent activities.
A lot of talented footballers trying very hard, sprinting until their hamstrings repeatedly pop and believing that’s their route to salvation, because a very convincing Australian told them so.
All the evidence suggests they still trust and support him. The obvious question there is: why? How many of them have improved over the past 18 months?
Where do they think this is going? How are his methods helping them get there? How have we reached this point of delusion verging on institutional self-harm?
Postecoglou’s defenders prefer blaming Daniel Levy and owners Enic, and there is merit in those criticisms too. Like a dog resembles its owner, Tottenham’s players have long reflected their acceptance of existing near the elite without inhabiting it, of substituting passion for progress.
This squad is unbalanced, thin and inexperienced, but still robust enough to bench James Maddison and Pape Matar Sarr in the middle of a so-called injury crisis.
It is still good enough to beat Wolves or Ipswich at home, even with Archie Gray at centre-back, the eighth-richest football club in the world with the sixth-best playing corps in the Premier League.
The buck can only stop with the manager here. By enacting such significant influence on tactics and philosophy, he has to take equally great responsibility for the consequences.
If anything, Levy’s great failing was in hiring Postecoglou. He has never been a chairman who allows his transfer policy to be dictated by his coaches, the furthest thing from a footballing romantic.
The level of funding and loyalty Postecoglou requires was something Levy was never going to supply, a leap of faith simply not in his programming.
Project Postecoglou is only hurting everyone at Tottenham now, damaging the reputations of everyone involved. He is trapped in an ugly clash between an ideologue and an arch-pragmatist which isn’t entirely his fault, but for which he will pay the price.
Something has to give, and everyone knows it won’t be Levy. There are simply no more positives left to spin.
