- Jun 5, 2004
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So our reserves lost to their kids. And that about does it for me. You’ve watched the match, you’ve seen the goals, you’ve vented your frustrations. But what you haven’t done is read about me going to the game. :smile:
***
I’ve had many a conversation with Arsenal fans who have, over the years, scoffed at Spurs for taking the League Cup seriously. When Nasri slotted home that first penalty when extra time was barely a minute old and still covered in birthing fluids, I have never seen a set of visiting supporters go that crazy. There were t-shirts waving around heads, arms everywhere and a fair amount of noise coming from the rather enlarged away end. For a set of supporters that don’t take the competition at all seriously, they sure look like they cared.
But this reflective report isn’t going to stay on that bitter path, in fact the very reason I waited this long to write-up the game was to let the bitterness and the hurt settle. Yes, it hurt. As my mate at work suggested “it was against you lot, of course it mattered”.
***
I rocked up to White Hart Lane at about five to seven, a non-drinking evening for me as I had a full day of training ahead of me the next day and the subject headings of the presentations demanded that my system be alcohol free if there was to be any hope of remaining conscious. So for the first time in a very long time, I grabbed a burger – well, I do that all the time – but then I also grabbed a match-day programme that was fronted by Mr Robert Keane.
[ar]
[/ar]I planted myself in my seat with a £2 cup of tea and the stadium clock read 7:05, so as the only member of row 2 in block 28, I spread myself across a couple of seats and took a picture (see, look it’s here) of the empty ground. I flicked through the programme, reading stories that had been on the website all week and read in detail about Bobby Smith (RIP) and the plan to applaud for a minute before kick-off. I like this recent trend of applauding footballers that have passed on. Firstly it gives people the chance to say thank-you in a way that befits a sporting context, and secondly it minimises the oik-impact of those being Jack The Lad and making noises during a silence. Probably somewhere along the line we should claim that we invented that. I hope we did.
And then Fabianski came out for a bit of practice. I booed accordingly. Rather amusingly, the first shot that was pumped at him was a routine midriff catch that he appropriately let slide through his hands and his legs. Hilarity ensued for those few hundred early-bird fans. I really don’t rate him, and the bad news for him is that most of his supporters don’t either. Taking a sojourn back to match action for the briefest of highlights: he should have saved Keane’s effort. Don’t get me wrong, I heart Keano and was massively happy that his second half introduction had such an immediate effect – but like the third goal in the 5-1 a couple of years ago, the keeper was at fault.
Back to the warm-ups and I noted Lennon, Jenas and Bentley getting massively distracted by the highlights of previous North London derbies being ‘Jumbotroned’. Jenas watched as he scored the third in the 4-4 and the first in the 5-1, Lennon was transfixed by both of Spurs’ fourth goals (scored by him) in those matches, and the sight of Bentley lobbing Almunia from a ridiculous distance saw the lad come to a halt to observe what was the greatest moment of his Spurs career to date.
It was interesting to see Keano going round laughing and joking with everyone, he really is integral to team spirit. And I guess that’s why I have so much time for him being at the club. He was giving Hutton a good bit of banter during the warm-up and it’s those little things that matter. Well, to me anyway.
***
So, the match. Well for me it didn’t feel like Spurs. It was very odd, and ultimately the club is bigger than the sum of its players, but there wasn’t the same atmosphere having Caulker, Naughton, Livermore and Sandro in the team. Most impressed with Sandro out of the lot, and I think he’s got an awful lot of talent. Caulker got scared after about 70 minutes and Naughton was very hit and miss – something that can only be put down to not playing regularly, I guess.
Ultimately switching to a 4-4-2 in the second half worked as a shock and awe tactic from Harry, as we shocked Arsenal and looked on in awe as Keano slotted in the equaliser. Whether either or both of the eventually converted penalties were penalties is still being debated, I expect. But the feeling of inevitability from those in the stands was that many would have preferred that the first penalty was the other side of Full Time.
***
A final note: the fans. Something stirred in the second half and the roof came off when our goal went in – and the players were noticeably lifted by the improved noise coming from the WHL faithful. The Arsenal fans were large in number, and took up rather more room than a Premier League fixture to the detriment of our usual noise-makers in the South Stand.
There was audible booing at the end of the first half of both normal time and extra time, and a massive amount of frustration being vented in the extra half an hour tacked on to the game. As the stadium emptied, a hardcore of Spurs fans stayed. The clock read 25, meaning 5 minutes of footy left and something lovely happened. The remainder sang and sang loudly. The quarter full stadium outsung the away fans section which was full to the brim. It was a lovely moment, and very much felt (although this may be unfair) that the ‘fair weather fans’ had gone and all that was left were the supporter purists. The Spurs football lovers – the ones that watch us play awful football as well as cheer home the great stuff. It was a touching moment for me in what was otherwise a forgettable night.
What started at 7:05 in my seat finished at 10:05 – a full three-hour Lane experience. It had everything: tea, a match-day programme, Sandro, a good ol’ sing song and heartbreak. I had paid for my show, and I certainly got one.
***
I’ve had many a conversation with Arsenal fans who have, over the years, scoffed at Spurs for taking the League Cup seriously. When Nasri slotted home that first penalty when extra time was barely a minute old and still covered in birthing fluids, I have never seen a set of visiting supporters go that crazy. There were t-shirts waving around heads, arms everywhere and a fair amount of noise coming from the rather enlarged away end. For a set of supporters that don’t take the competition at all seriously, they sure look like they cared.
But this reflective report isn’t going to stay on that bitter path, in fact the very reason I waited this long to write-up the game was to let the bitterness and the hurt settle. Yes, it hurt. As my mate at work suggested “it was against you lot, of course it mattered”.
***
I rocked up to White Hart Lane at about five to seven, a non-drinking evening for me as I had a full day of training ahead of me the next day and the subject headings of the presentations demanded that my system be alcohol free if there was to be any hope of remaining conscious. So for the first time in a very long time, I grabbed a burger – well, I do that all the time – but then I also grabbed a match-day programme that was fronted by Mr Robert Keane.
[ar]
And then Fabianski came out for a bit of practice. I booed accordingly. Rather amusingly, the first shot that was pumped at him was a routine midriff catch that he appropriately let slide through his hands and his legs. Hilarity ensued for those few hundred early-bird fans. I really don’t rate him, and the bad news for him is that most of his supporters don’t either. Taking a sojourn back to match action for the briefest of highlights: he should have saved Keane’s effort. Don’t get me wrong, I heart Keano and was massively happy that his second half introduction had such an immediate effect – but like the third goal in the 5-1 a couple of years ago, the keeper was at fault.
Back to the warm-ups and I noted Lennon, Jenas and Bentley getting massively distracted by the highlights of previous North London derbies being ‘Jumbotroned’. Jenas watched as he scored the third in the 4-4 and the first in the 5-1, Lennon was transfixed by both of Spurs’ fourth goals (scored by him) in those matches, and the sight of Bentley lobbing Almunia from a ridiculous distance saw the lad come to a halt to observe what was the greatest moment of his Spurs career to date.
It was interesting to see Keano going round laughing and joking with everyone, he really is integral to team spirit. And I guess that’s why I have so much time for him being at the club. He was giving Hutton a good bit of banter during the warm-up and it’s those little things that matter. Well, to me anyway.
***
So, the match. Well for me it didn’t feel like Spurs. It was very odd, and ultimately the club is bigger than the sum of its players, but there wasn’t the same atmosphere having Caulker, Naughton, Livermore and Sandro in the team. Most impressed with Sandro out of the lot, and I think he’s got an awful lot of talent. Caulker got scared after about 70 minutes and Naughton was very hit and miss – something that can only be put down to not playing regularly, I guess.
Ultimately switching to a 4-4-2 in the second half worked as a shock and awe tactic from Harry, as we shocked Arsenal and looked on in awe as Keano slotted in the equaliser. Whether either or both of the eventually converted penalties were penalties is still being debated, I expect. But the feeling of inevitability from those in the stands was that many would have preferred that the first penalty was the other side of Full Time.
***
A final note: the fans. Something stirred in the second half and the roof came off when our goal went in – and the players were noticeably lifted by the improved noise coming from the WHL faithful. The Arsenal fans were large in number, and took up rather more room than a Premier League fixture to the detriment of our usual noise-makers in the South Stand.
There was audible booing at the end of the first half of both normal time and extra time, and a massive amount of frustration being vented in the extra half an hour tacked on to the game. As the stadium emptied, a hardcore of Spurs fans stayed. The clock read 25, meaning 5 minutes of footy left and something lovely happened. The remainder sang and sang loudly. The quarter full stadium outsung the away fans section which was full to the brim. It was a lovely moment, and very much felt (although this may be unfair) that the ‘fair weather fans’ had gone and all that was left were the supporter purists. The Spurs football lovers – the ones that watch us play awful football as well as cheer home the great stuff. It was a touching moment for me in what was otherwise a forgettable night.
What started at 7:05 in my seat finished at 10:05 – a full three-hour Lane experience. It had everything: tea, a match-day programme, Sandro, a good ol’ sing song and heartbreak. I had paid for my show, and I certainly got one.