Lay off Berba

For the disgruntled Spurs fans who rage at the prospect of losing Dimitar Berbatov read the small-town boy who watches with mixed emotions as his beautiful girlfriend seduces the country in some godforsaken talent contest, knowing all the while that her success would ultimately result in her removal from him. Berbatov is too good for Spurs. No amount of protestation from Juande Ramos can hide this. Ramos knows it, Berbatov himself knows it, his team mates know it, and, reluctantly, so do those same fans. It is, after all, a situation they are familiar with, echoing the painful departures of Hoddle, Waddle, Gascoigne and Sheringham.

Spurs’ enemies in the football world, as numerous as they are vociferous, have latched on to the plight of Berbatov with glee. Berbatov’s desire to depart, they say, proves that Spurs will never be a big club, that they are a selling club and a feeder club to the big boys. They miss the point. Berbatov’s situation highlights the impossible difficulties facing any club outside the top four. Clearly to reach this level Spurs must keep him, but such is the scale of the player’s ability that as he has acclimatised to the Premiership he has simply outgrown his stage. An unsettled player is never a positive influence and his departure has become inevitable. Blackburn will soon face a similar situation with David Bentley.

The gulf between the top four and the rest is more pronounced than ever. As Ian Wright inadvertently put it: “I reckon if you asked 10 Spurs players if they would like to join one of the top four clubs, eight or nine would say yes. You rarely hear Arsenal or Chelsea players saying they want to move because they already know they are at a big club. And unless Real Madrid or Barcelona come in for them there are not many bigger clubs they can go to.” What is so surprising about this? Surely no-one at Spurs, or Man City or Everton for that matter, would be foolish to claim that their club can compete with one of the top-four at the moment. If Alan Hutton has asked for time before joining Spurs in the hope that United will come in for him then so what? It is not an insult to Spurs as such, rather an acknowledgement of the state of the realm. United are a bigger club, as are Chelsea, Arsenal and Liverpool. With the cash of Thaksin Shinawatra City may mount a serious challenge to the quartet but the point remains that it is entirely understandable for any player from these clubs approached by the ‘big-four’ to have their head turned. 

The only club from outside this clique to win the Premier League are Blackburn in its third season, while the same four teams have monopolised the FA Cup since Everton won it in 1995. As far as the Champions League goes, only Everton have broken through, and they were unlucky enough to run into an inspired Villarreal in 2005. When even Liverpool, runners-up in last season’s Champions League and the owners of £26m Fernando Torres, trail the leaders by 12 points in January the problems for those below them are clear. Spearheaded by Berbatov, Spurs had their chance to stake their claim this season but for many well-documented reasons the anticipated push has never materialised. Such is life. It is not the player’s fault that in-fighting, injuries and an over-reliance on youth have conspired against his team. Had everything gone according to plan they would have struggled to break the stranglehold, but as it happens not even the great Geoff Capes could have carried Spurs’ leaking ship to European contention this campaign. 

Berbatov has been castigated by the media and countless ex-pro’s for his body language as the team snowballed. Spurs ‘legend’ Paul Walsh, a player whose hair gave fans more pleasure than his ability on the ball, saw fit to describe him as a ‘disgrace’. Walsh is one of many with a short memory. It was less than a year ago when Berbatov first shot to prominence that these same critics eulogised over his languid countenance, his grace and casual air on the ball. Not that much has changed this year. Some weeks he is sublime, others peripheral. It is the nature of the beast. Just as the reckless abandon of George Best was translated so sublimely onto the pitch, Berbatov is an artisan, a rare breed. Why do we demand that he wears his heart on his sleeve in the style of a Lee Carsley?

Clearly an intelligent man, why should Berbatov not have been aggrieved by events at Tottenham this season? The behaviour surrounding the sacking of Martin Jol was shambolic, and a player of his ability would surely be inhuman if he were not led to question what he is doing at a club seemingly so determined to shoot themselves in the foot. As for his body-language, the gulf in ability between Berbatov and some of his team-mates is at times derisory. Berbatov plays a style of football befitting the finest traditions. He is a perfectionist, who cares enough to show his disapproval when his colleagues are playing a different game. He deserves the chance to display his talents alongside those of a similar mindset at Old Trafford or Highbury. After all he is no Paulo Di Canio. He has scrapped with the best of them for Spurs, been influential away at Middlesbrough, Man City and Wigan. He is human yet immortal, his four goals at Reading coming after a first-half when everything he touched turned to mud. To suggest that in such an case the player owes the club is dangerous. They have not developed his extraordinary ability, it is his own work. The player must look after number one, nobody else will.

The time has come for an amicable break, whether this January or in the summer. Berbatov is 27, the clock is ticking. The fate of a bruised Thierry Henry at Barcelona serves as a reminder of the consequences of misguided loyalty, and Henry had the benefit of Championship medals at Arsenal to sate his thirst for further success. Rather than cursing him for his ambition, Spurs fans should savour the fact that once again they have been lucky enough to bear witness to a player who was destined for a higher plain.