Palhinha ends Spurs drought as Wolves suffer in relegation dogfight

The first half was properly dire. Andre picked up a yellow card for his troubles in the 45th minute, already sensing the afternoon would be about survival rather than ambition. Wolves had chances to get at Tottenham but lacked the quality to convert pressure into anything meaningful. One shot on target in the entire match speaks volumes. Tottenham, meanwhile, looked like a team playing without conviction, their midfield uninspired, their attacking players starved of service. When Kolo Muani replaced Richarlison at half-time, it felt reactive rather than transformative.

Yellow cards flew in with alarming regularity - seven in total, the referee Anthony Taylor keeping tabs on every niggling foul, every moment of frustration boiling over. Spurs were second best in discipline, four yellows to Wolves' three, but it never mattered because they had the bit between their teeth. The goal, when it came, was well-taken. Richarlison had only just come back on as a substitute to terrorise Wolves' backline, and he did precisely that.

Then came the substitutions at the hour mark. Tottenham freshened things up with Bissouma and Xavi Simons, suddenly injecting some tempo into proceedings. The game opened up fractionally, though it remained a slog. Yellow cards flew in with alarming regularity - seven in total, the referee Anthony Taylor keeping tabs on every niggling foul, every moment of frustration boiling over. Spurs were second best in discipline, four yellows to Wolves' three, but it never mattered because they had the bit between their teeth.

The goal, when it came, was well-taken. Richarlison had only just come back on as a substitute to terrorise Wolves' backline, and he did precisely that. His pass found Palhinha charging through the middle, and the Portuguese midfielder didn't hesitate. He lashed it past the goalkeeper with real venom, the kind of finish that separates teams in tight matches. For Wolves it was a hammer blow. For Tottenham it was oxygen. Suddenly 18th place felt fractionally more secure.

Wolves threw bodies forward in the closing stages but they looked spent, bereft of ideas. Tottenham managed the game out, inviting pressure without panic. By the finish, this felt like a victory that matters infinitely more to Ange Postecoglou's side than it does to Wolves' prospects. Spurs climb towards safety, however incrementally. Wolves, still in the mire at the bottom with those two recent wins feeling like false dawns, know time is running out. In a match this tight, this tense, this utterly joyless, one moment of quality settles it. That's the Premier League at its most brutal.