His gallbladder is out but the pain in Antonio Conte’s backside never went away. Evidently there is no easy fix, surgical or otherwise, for the enduring mystery that is Tottenham Hotspur, a club that has had so many false dawns it is a wonder they have not yet strangled their cockerel.
In the context of this strange season, that would apply to the glaringly meek way in which they have just surrendered the rhythm that had been building with those wins over Chelsea and West Ham.
To lose to Sheffield United in the FA Cup in midweek was a stupefying waste of an opportunity, and to follow it with such a poor defeat at Wolves was to open a trapdoor to fifth and sixth in the league.