Spurs’ Solanke helps send Manchester United out amid chaotic Carabao Cup tie | Carabao Cup

Like a song that changes time signature for the hell of it, like a friend that inexplicably blanks you, like a match report that noodles away for ages instead of just telling you what happened, Tottenham Hotspur remain medically incapable of doing things the simple way. This is becoming a kind of mania, a disorder, a cry for help. What is this? Who are you really? And, you know, can you not?

For all this, Ange Postecoglou’s side are Carabao Cup semi-finalists, the latest plot twist in a season in which nobody can really agree whether things are going well or not. Great Football. But also some terrible football. But also, two games from a trophy. But also, 10th in the Premier League. But also two goals for the brilliant Dominic Solanke. But also two goals basically given away by Fraser Forster.

At least Tottenham’s late fourth goal, curled in direct from a corner, buried any illusions that Ruben Amorim may have harboured about the scale of the shambles still awaiting him. For all their new energy, Manchester United still look deeply uncomfortable in defence, deeply disturbed by teams who make them turn and run. For an hour Spurs ripped them up, Dejan Kulusevski and James Maddison running amok, Yves Bissouma a pillar of poise in midfield.

And this was the version of Spurs that Postecoglou must wish he could roll up in a duffle bag and take everywhere with him, full of hard running and clever angles and flicks upon flicks. This is Spurs when it all makes sense. When the players are largely interchangeable because the parts are meant to interchange anyway. Djed Spence, a right-back at left-back. Archie Gray, a midfielder at centre-half. Kulusevski on the right but occasionally moonlighting on the left. Passages of humming chaos in which possession is lost, regained, lost again, regained again, to the point where you’re not quite sure whether they’re attacking or defending.

These were the combinations that produced the first goal, as Maddison was fouled and then took a short free-kick himself, Pedro Porro with the eventual shot from distance, Altay Bayindir parrying the ball but only into the path of Solanke, who buried the rebound first-time off a post. The stadium – as is reasonably common this season – rose but did not roar, the sheer randomness of the goal throwing them a little, and perhaps forewarning them too, of a lead wrought just a little too easily for comfort.

United’s plan, by contrast, was not easily legible. Early spells of possession quickly subsided into something more reactive, a defensive shell that is the hallmark of a team not yet comfortable in its own skin, thinking of individual futures rather than collective enterprise. Nobody wanted to make a mistake. Nobody wanted to be the man caught out of position. “Ta- ra Marcus,” read a banner in the North Stand where the United fans were gathered: a reminder that the early days of how disorientingly quickly the ground can shift under you.

It was still not legible when Spurs doubled their lead 47 seconds into the second half, another triumph of familiarity over novelty. As Son Heung-min drove through the centre, as Maddison overlapped on the left, as Kulusevski checked his run towards goal, United were still grasping at phantoms, herding and narrowing, seeking out each other rather than the opponent, a safety in numbers that was really no safety at all. Kulusevski slammed the ball in from close range after a non-clearance by Lisandro Martínez.

And for all the vague Jesus vibes that have pursued Amorim around his first few weeks at the club, perhaps this was a valuable reminder that these are still the same players that thrashed and flailed so ineffectively under Erik ten Hag, a combination of the once good enough, the potentially good enough and the not quite good enough. Solanke made it 3-0 after a mix-up involving Jonny Evans, introduced for the injured Victor Lindelöf: yep, those guys are still hanging around the place.

That was it, pretty much: at least, unless Spurs did something unutterably stupid. Like giving the ball away to Bruno Fernandes five yards from goal. Or letting Amad Diallo tackle the ball into the net from a Tottenham goal kick. Well, you won’t believe what happened next!

First Forster and Radu Dragusin shared an awkward moment, Fernandes stole in and the substitute Joshua Zirkzee had a tap-in into an empty net from two yards: the sort of range from which Zirkzee, and indeed your most elderly relative, is utterly deadly. Next Forster dithered over a clearance, Diallo put in a speculative slide and Forster – a man older than many countries – obligingly smacked the ball straight at him.

There were a couple of late scares, and even after Son scored from a corner, Evans headed in from a United corner to stir a little undeserved jeopardy into the final seconds. But Spurs held on, as they hold on to the dream of a first trophy since 2008. It would be a profoundly strange thing to happen. But Spurs are turning into a profoundly strange team.