Tributes to Nuno Espiríto Santo had been few and far between this week until Antonio Conte found a fitting way to mark his predecessor’s reign. In the Italian’s first Premier League match in charge of Tottenham, just as in the Portuguese’s last, Spurs had no shots on target. Perhaps Nuno nodded on approvingly from afar. The paradox is that 0-0 felt the definitive Nuno scoreline, but his Tottenham never secured a stalemate in his ill-fated reign. Instead, after the breathless excitement of Conte’s bow against Vitesse came a game where, although Giovani Lo Celso struck the post, the only efforts on target came from Everton’s Ben Godfrey and Tom Davies. Suffice to say it was not quite what Conte planned. It ranked as an underwhelming return to the division he won in catalytic fashion in 2017. Whereas Nuno’s debut was the falsest of false dawns, with victory over Manchester City, Conte joins Andre Villas-Boas, the only other one of Spurs’ last eight managers to fail to win on his top-flight bow. It will take a little longer to make a difference on the pitch. Off it, there is already a shift in attitudes. Dissent and silence have been exchanged for a soundtrack borrowed from Stamford Bridge. A familiar, ominous chant returned about 50 minutes before Conte’s Premier League comeback began. He was making the journey across the pitch to the temporary huts still deployed as dressing rooms at Goodison Park when the early arrivals began serenading him. “Antonio, Antonio,” is a mantra with the unimaginative wording appropriated from Chelsea, but no elaboration is required. It is a statement of pride, a warning, almost a war cry for this most combative of coaches. Rewind a couple of years and Daniel Levy hailed José Mourinho – the second of four managers Tottenham have given a contract that was due to expire in 2023 – as one of the two best in the world. It felt a dubious assertion then, and still more so on a day when Mourinho’s Roma lost to Venezia, but it is safer to say they have one of the top half-dozen now. Tottenham could savour the sense they still have an allure. They have an incongruous combination of Galactico manager and mediocre team but they can boast again. The travelling fans brandished the tricolored flag of Italy; presumably freshly bought, rather than items already acquired to celebrate the back-up goalkeeper Pierluigi Gollini. Conte had responded to the first sight of them. He deviated from his path to pose for photographs; perhaps a few of those congregating around him had never bothered to get a selfie with Nuno. Maybe they have been deleted from phones, trying to erase any evidence of a forgettable era; if, indeed, the shortest managerial tenure in Tottenham’s history qualifies as an era. But the rapturous reception afforded to Conte was a reflection of who he is and who he isn’t. In any walk of life, a short cut to a welcome is to replace the unpopular or the unsuitable. The newcomer has done that, but there are few more dramatic upgrades than Nuno to Conte. The Portuguese was unwanted and unlamented, his successor feted and hailed. Nuno’s name was never sung. Or not as any kind of compliment, anyway; the bored Tottenham faithful had chorused “Nuno, make a sub” during the drabness of their Carabao Cup win at Burnley. It may take a little longer to get his football out of their systems, however. It felt as if they had forgotten how to create. There was graft, but insufficient craft. Even the club’s slogan showed Nuno was miscast. To dare is to do? For Nuno, to dull was to do. But Conte could not effect an early transition into entertainers. Unlike Tottenham, at least he makes for compelling viewing. He always did, even without the task of trying to Contefy a team in something of an identity crisis since Mauricio Pochettino’s sacking. Indeed, the second half was barely 30 seconds old when he and Eric Dier had a conversation that consisted of long-range pointing. He is both micro-manager and madman. Compared to him, even the famously meticulous Rafael Benítez looked laid-back on the touchline as Conte could not contain his frustration, the animated gestures of an angry perfectionist forming a contrast with Nuno’s beard-stroking passivity. Conte strayed far out of his technical order, forever eager to get closer to his charges to dispense orders. A manager who demands positional discipline from his players showed precious little himself. The fourth official, Anthony Taylor, gave up on the thankless task of trying to summon him back. Under Nuno, Tottenham ran the least in the Premier League. If Conte’s personal mileage is included, they might cover the most distance under his replacement. The Italian has brought three fitness coaches to Tottenham; perhaps one of them is employed simply to keep the manager in shape. His side showed energy. There were hints of intent. Briefly, Pierre-Emile Højbjerg was the furthest player forward, seeking to reach Harry Kane’s pass. There were chances for the two wing-backs, with Emerson Royal and Sergio Reguilón charged with recreating the extraordinary impact Victor Moses and Marcos Alonso had for his Chelsea. Ben Davies, who showed an adventurous streak to set up Spurs’ third goal against Vitesse, surged forward to thrash a shot over the bar. But it ended up as Tottenham’s first goalless draw for 60 games. Perhaps that counts as an immediate impact, but probably not the one Conte had in mind.