Has there ever been a softer, more delicate act of derby day brutality than this, a hat-trick in a 4-1 win where every goal must have felt like being bludgeoned to death with a feather‑light Parisian macaron?
Eberechi Eze’s third goal, the killer, the legend-maker, was the funniest, and also the most telling. It was made by a thrust down the left, and by Leandro Trossard’s smart pass. But it was made as an aesthetic by Destiny Udogie falling over, not because of any real act of trickery, but because Eze stopped suddenly, out there in the middle of all that heat and light, taking the ball on the edge of the Spurs box and simply ceasing to move, like a squirrel on a branch.
