Southampton endure historic Premier League relegation after defeat at Spurs

It may be that Southampton pick up the two points they need to surpass Derby’s 2007-08 tally of 11 so as not to be ranked the worst team in Premier League history, but no side has ever previously been relegated with seven games of the season remaining. In that sense, and that alone, this was a historic afternoon, a new high in abjection. A facile win, though, did not bring a huge amount of joy for Tottenham.

It’s remarkable just how bad a team in Southampton’s position can become, how beaten-down players become unable to perform even the simplest functions. Like their 5-0 win at St Mary’s in December, the game that led to Russell Martin being dismissed, there was a sense that it was almost too straightforward to be meaningful. Yes, the knife cut through the butter; that doesn’t make it a good knife.

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Spurs’ opener was a case in point, four neat passes leading to Djed Spence’s cross for Brennan Johnson, but probably not the sort of interchange you could perform unchallenged against decent opposition.

When Johnson, mysteriously played onside by not one but two Southampton defenders, poked in a second five minutes before half-time, the crowd’s reaction was a half-hearted, “Wa-hey”, rather than a proper cheer. For both sides for several weeks this league campaign has been something to be got out of the way. Rarely can a late goal, to cut the gap to one, have provoked so little drama as Mateus Fernandes’s strike; Mathys Tel’s penalty restored the two-goal margin.

The spring sunshine could not entirely penetrate the chill. Pockets of misery lingered, the metaphorical shadows extending far further than the actual ones. Everywhere there was dissatisfaction, frustration and gloom. Welcome to the Extremely Well-Appointed Luxury Venue of the Damned. On the one hand a zombie side dreaming of not being the worst in history; and on the other a team limping towards the end of the season looking to the Europa League for salvation.

Southampton’s Ivan Juric was still dishing out orders from the touchline against Spurs despite relegation having been inevitable for a long time. Photograph: David Klein/Reuters

Only victory in Bilbao in May, surely, can save Ange Postecoglou now. Fans have generally been sympathetic, recognising the deep-lying factors behind his struggles, but cupping his ear to his own support on Thursday has burned through much of what limited credit he had left. It probably wasn’t directly related, but the growing discontent at Spurs was evident in a larger than usual protest in the streets before kick-off, with perhaps 350 calling for the defenestration of Daniel Levy. There were chants of “We Want Levy Out” immediately after kick-off, at every VAR check and at sporadic intervals throughout, a leitmotif for the afternoon.

There’s an Australian documentary Ange and the Boss that details the time Postecoglou spent playing for South Melbourne Hellas under Ferenc Puskas. Midway through the season in which South Melbourne won the grand final, during a slump in form, Puskas was barracked by the home crowd, turned and berated them. That seems to have added to his legend, but it’s one thing for somebody who was once the greatest player in the world to make his point to a low stand in suburban Australia, quite another for a 59-year-old in his second season in one of Europe’s top five leagues to gesture at away fans watching their side losing their 16th game of the season.

Still that’s nine fewer than Southampton, who have won one league game in five months. What, you wonder, did Ivan Juric think was going to happen when he took the job? He remains admirably engaged, giving Will Smallbone extended instructions before he brought him off at 2-0 down, as though any of it mattered.

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When he was appointed before Christmas, Southampton were already bottom with a meagre record of six points from 17 games. Did Juric really think he could turn things round? If he had somehow kept this squad up, coaches of the future would have sought out his training notes in the way alchemists once hunted for the mythical works of Hermes Trismegistus.

Or was he just chasing a big pay-day, a well-remunerated Charon to ferry Southampton back into the Championship? No harm in that, perhaps: he’s 49, a time at which everybody starts glancing anxiously at their pension pot, and, given his work in Italy, it’s unlikely a crushing relegation like this one will harm his career in the way Derby’s humiliation in 2007-08 destroyed Paul Jewell. Still, he’s fortunate Terry Connor (played 13, won 0 with Wolves at the tail end of 2011-12) exists so he will not go down in history as the Premier League manager with the lowest win-percentage.

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