Attacking style not the only reason some Tottenham fans will back Ange Postecoglou until the bitter end

By: Kels Dayton

I love Ange Postecoglou.

I couldn’t tell you exactly why, but I do.

As a diehard Tottenham fan, I’m far from alone.

Like you, I understand that we’re 15th in the table, that we’re in relegation form, that we currently look like the worst team in the league not named Southampton or Leicester.

But bizarrely, none of that matters to me right now. At least, not yet. I’m still Ange-in, because I want this project to work. I want to believe in this style of football, in this particular Great Man Theory, in the promise of this manager who has captured the imagination of Spurs supporters and football fans the world over.

There’s always been a Great Man mythology about Ange. The charismatic Australian, a tough-but-lovable personality, his decency and fairness evident, empathy and good humor obvious as well.

There’s something FIFA Manager about him too. He’s got the aura of a created character– the unknown foreign manager who crashes the Premier League, seemingly out of nowhere, unproven but with a spotless CV in other parts of the world. He’s who we would all want to be if we became a football manager, and if it started going south, we’d just adjust the sliders.

Much like my own created manager, Ange came into Tottenham with the promise of trophies– and plenty of bluster about how he would, by special tactics or maybe even force of personality, play this beautiful, innovative style of football that would both thrill and win the league. He would outsmart everyone else, all the dour, negative, backwards-passing pragmatists who believe in keeping a clean sheet first and hoping you can nick something on the other end.

Ange, it seemed, was different. He had the secret to football, and all we had to do was sit back and be patient as it took hold.

And it all started so well. Unbeaten in his first 10, a win over Liverpool– something Spurs never do, as dodgy as that win was. There were those who thought we could seriously challenge for the league title after that, and despite the loss of Harry Kane, we did challenge for Champions League, all the way to the end.

This season, by contrast, has been a nightmare, there’s no question about that. It started out with a head-scratching draw to Leicester, and it’s been maddening ever since. The injury list is longer than the team sheet, and not even prime Sir Alex Ferguson would have a chance to win with the current threadbare squad.

Ange-outers blame the injuries on Postecoglou’s style of play, but as The Guardian’s Max Rushden pointed out, his teams didn’t deal with this level of attrition at his other stops. How would any manager be able to cope without his entire back line– minus Pedro Porro– his first-choice game-saving goalkeeper, a starting midfielder in Rodrigo Betancur, and now Brennan Johnson and Dominic Solanke?

Maybe things were always going to be hard for this manager, in the post-Kane era. It doesn’t help that Heung-min Son looks like a shell of his former self, like he’s fallen off a cliff and may never return to what he once was. All of that and Daniel Levy’s team-building on the cheap (Timo Werner instead of Luis Diaz, etc.) might just mean Tottenham are mid– as in, mid-table talent level.

There’s no question Postecoglou’s tactics have looked ridiculous at times– like in the 6-3 home loss to Liverpool, or home defeats to Chelsea in back-to-back seasons where Spurs’ high line invited a combined eight Blues goals, and a Nicolas Jackson hat trick that was about as cheap as they come last season.

There have been other embarrassing performances– like the home loss to Ipswich, the home draw to Wolves, the inability to score against Forest and Bournemouth (good sides this year but still), and of course, the recent pathetic effort at Everton.

But there have been plenty of inspiring outings, too. Ange has continued Tottenham’s vexing owning of Manchester City– that 4-0 win at the Etihad was ecstatic– not to mention the outclassing of Manchester United at Old Trafford.

Spurs fans can see the vision, can feel what it was like when Ange-ball worked, and we want it to work like that all the time.

And for some of us, it’s not even just about Ange-ball.

Me? I’d be okay if the team was parking the bus but were still winning, enough for the man to keep his job.

Maybe it’s Stockholm Syndrome, or a blind adoration of the characters involved in my favorite club. I loved Mauricio Pochettino with a fervor as well, and was supremely defensive of Jose Mourinho– still a fan of his. I still root hard for Dele, and Steven Bergwijn, and just about anybody who wore the majestic cockerel-on-a-ball badge for a time.

Whatever it is, I’ve grown to love this charismatic Aussie like my own dad. He’s a lovable, idealistic vision of a football manager, the kind of guy you want to root for leading the kind of team you want to root for.

Distilled to its core, I think the song Spurs fans came up with for Ange, set to the tune of ‘Angels’ by Robbie Williams, hints at why it’s so hard to give this vision up.

And through it all, we’ll play the way we want to, with Big Ange Postecoglou, whether I’m right or wrong. It’s big Ange ball, so you can keep your Pochettino, Conte and Mourinho, and even Christian Gross. Everywhere we go, we’re lovin’ big Ange instead.

Through it all, right or wrong, this project is worth seeing through. It might crash and burn– it might be doing that right now– but it’s been worth the risk. Let’s see it all the way through. To Dare Is To Do.

Maybe being Ange-in Until The Wheels Fall Off is foolish. Maybe it’s cultish. Maybe I should want Sean Dyche, 10 men behind the ball, yawning through 1-0 victories.

Nah.

I’d rather white-knuckle it through a 4-3 win, listen to pundits incredulous about our play style afterwards, and smirk as the big Aussie grumbles: It’s just the way we play, mate.

I can’t really tell you exactly why. Hell.

It’s just the way I feel, mate.

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