Tottenham 4
Chelsea 4

Question. When is a big game not a big game? Answer. When Avram Grant's talking about it, that's when. If you listen to the paranoid gospel according to the Chelsea boss, you'd swear a big game is one decreed as such by spiteful media critics out to sully and demean his reputation.

Even on a night with an authentic big match frisson, a night at the Lane so freakishly thrilling that you could argue all rational post-match analysis should be considered redundant, Grant's decision-making amid the mayhem still appeared to be so glaringly suspect that it was easy to be persuaded it had cost his side two crucial points in this most compelling of title races.

He ended up looking beleaguered and sounding defensive as that ever more nagging question was put to him: why do you keep failing in the big matches?

"I don't know whether to laugh or not to laugh," responded Grant, not laughing. "Every game we drop points is a big game. If we'd won today, would you still say it had been a big game?"

Yes actually, Avram. "So explain to me what is a critical game so I can know." Well, how about League games against the big three Arsenal, Manchester United and Liverpool? The ones you didn't win. Or the Wembley cup final you lost? Or the FA Cup quarter-final you lost? Or last night's intense derby which you failed to win to keep up the pressure on United and Arsenal?

"But it can't be that every game we lose points becomes a big game and every game we win is a normal game. If we'd won here, I'm sure you would say it's a normal game," he continued grumbling, before making a final exasperated plea. "Come on ..."

Grant just doesn't get it, though. It's got to the point where he clearly believes that any criticism has become personal, the work of a pining mob still blaming him for taking their blessed Jose away.

Yet it's not personal; it is based on the hard, cold fact that, so far under his stewardship, he wins the games he should win but can't prevail in the marquee encounters.

He still has time to enjoy watching humble pie being consumed in the press room, perhaps starting as early as Sunday should Chelsea beat and thus leapfrog Arsenal. Until he proves otherwise, though, how can he convince any Chelsea follower he has a sure hand on the tiller when his key contributions to last night's failure were two backfiring substitutions?

The first, with his side leading 3-2, was to swap Salomon Kalou for a third centre half Alex, which succeeded only in surrendering any attacking initiative, unbalancing Chelsea's defence and offering an open invite for Spurs to come and bombard them. The second, when they were up 4-3 with 10 minutes left, was to take off the best player on the pitch, Joe Cole.

"Joe was tired," Grant explained. Really? Just two minutes earlier, Cole had skipped past his hapless plaything Pascal Chimbonda and deposited Chelsea's fourth. So once Robbie Keane had curled his wondrous late equaliser, the visitors' main weapon was already gone, leaving even Spurs defender Alan Hutton marvelling gratefully: "Joe's top quality. Obviously when someone like that goes off it's always good."

By the time Didier Drogba wandered over to the bench in the dying minutes, seemingly confused about what approach Chelsea were supposed to be taking and looking for guidance, it was all too late. Losing the lead once had been unfortunate; twice had been careless; but three times while conceding four goals? Sorry, but this could and would never have happened under Mourinho.

Chelsea played some lovely stuff but it is a long time since Chelsea have been this slapdash in defence, even if Carlo Cudicini eventually rescued them from calamity with his blinding last-gasp, point-blank save from Dimitar Berbatov.

Fabio Capello could have been forgiven for watching John Terry and wondering if he's in the form to make the starting XI, never mind regain the captaincy. Remember also that this was the second time Chelsea have drawn 4-4 this season after their Boxing Day match with Aston Villa ended the same way. Then, there was Ashley Cole; what must the England boss have made of a bloke who makes a potentially leg-breaking lunge on Hutton, then effs and blinds as if he's been the victim before contemptuously turning his back on the ref while being booked.

Dear old Ash; sometimes it just seems as if his whole life's work is geared towards making himself even less adorable than John McCririck.

This may be doing a disservice to Grant but at the moment the impression of his Chelsea is of a team whose class, stubborness and fighting spirit is stemming from the quality, pride and know-how of champions almost playing from memory and not from any great inspiration nor clarity of direction from their manager.

On Sunday, Grant has another chance to kill this growing impression dead. As long, of course, that even he's prepared to concede that Arsenal at Stamford Bridge might just be, er, quite a big game.